#he’s the most awkward blunt man you’ve ever met | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kkaewrites · 1 year

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real or not real — nagi seishiro x reader !

warnings. indecent language, ooc nagi.

tropes. meet-ugly, enemies to lovers.

you hate nagi seishiro.

he was stone cold, often referred to as socially awkward— but you feel like those were just excuses to make up for his rude and nasty behavior. personally, you think he’s overrated just because he’s considered a soccer genius. of course, no one ever believes you. they think your hatred clouds your judgement (it obviously does not).

you first met him when you were in grade school, deskmates for the first day of class. he was shorter than you at that time, but aside from his height, everything about him stayed the same. he still has the same gunmetal gray eyes that’s either reflected with boredom or reflected by the screen of his gray nintendo gameboy. he still has the same white hair, as clean as the first drop of snow, but as wild as a lion’s mane.

to you, there was absolutely nothing about him that’s fascinating— he was the same as any average boy. playing mobile games was his favorite past time, so much so that you believed that it was his lifeline at one point. or so you’d assume. he always kept to himself and was left to his own devices (quite literally), most things that kids enjoy don’t seem to pique his interest. you guess those were the reasons why he didn’t have many friends.

no, scratch that— he didn’t have any friends.

at first you wondered why. if there’s one thing you noticed about him even at a very young age, it’s that he’s handsome. he doesn’t have to be the “rich kid” with amazing gadgets and fancy toys, or the “cool kid” who knows what right words to say and way to say it, but he’s nagi. he was conventionally attractive without even trying. however, that fact doesn’t seem to make up for the fact that he looks lonely.

so, you’ve devised a plan to talk to him.

“hey. sei-chan, wanna be my friend?” you’re everyone’s friend. the sunshine child, the one who always lends her classmate crayons or pencils, the kid with pigtails who smile at strangers for no reason. you’re the kid that everyone loves, and if by some miracle, someone hates you (which has never happened and will never happen)— everyone would simply take your side. you’re loved by all.

if nagi was shocked by your sudden proposal, his features didn’t show any signs of it. what he does is pause his current game and faces you. it’s the first time you’ve ever stared at him eye-to-eye. your heart jumps.

uh oh. is this what they call a crush?

eyes filled with hope, you patiently waited for nagi’s response. you expected him to utter “sure” wearing his usual monotone voice, but it doesn’t come. and what he says instead ruins you. your heart does a somersault and tumbles, crashing onto the pavement and breaking into tiny, gliterring pieces. it did not feel good.

“no thanks. i despise people like you.”

you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong at that very moment. maybe you were too blunt, too cheery, too whatever — just something too much to be able to upset someone like nagi seishiro, who doesn’t feel strongly about anything or anyone. you didn’t have the courage to ask him what you’ve done wrong because your vision blurs. you always reckoned that it was due to anger, but your mother who saw you run home with tear-streaked cheeks says otherwise.

you still don’t know how you managed to piss off nagi, even until your very first year of college. after grade school, you never saw him again. you heard he studied at some prestigious high school but that was the end of it, you never really asked because you had no interest whatsoever. you somehow managed to assure yourself that there was no way you’d ever cross paths with him once again— so why is he here?

why, of all places, would he be your deskmate for your politics class?

at this point, you thought maybe the gods above despised you, too. did they hate you enough to not only be schoolmates, not only be classmates with this man, but to be deskmates? hate is the only logical explanation for this fucked-up coincidence. you’re not keen on fates or invisible strings so you’re sure this was just a punishment for you.

oh god. you hate it so much. you hate him so much.

without a word, you took the seat right next to him, taking the opportunity while he’s sound asleep. you’re not sure why he would take politics as his subject, because as far as you know about him, all he ever cares about is his mobile games. maybe soccer as well, but that’s not exactly related to politics, either.

when the professor enters the class, you found no reason to wake him up. he could get screamed at for all you care, but there was no way you’d ever converse with him at your own accord. because the only way you’d ever survive sitting next to him for the whole semester is by not acknowledging him at all. you can do that. you can avoid talking or looking at him. he’s not that talkative (and he’s not even awake) to begin with.

until your plan crashes and burns.

he turns out to be your partner for a school project— a big one, at that. you considered going solo, but the whole point of the project is to make sure two people are working together. it was a community development kind of plan, so unless he works with you and you work with him, you’d be getting an F for your politics class. that, you can’t have. even if it meant talking to him and enduring his presence.

he wakes up right after the class ended and you could barely contain your scoff. he sat through the whole 2 hour lecture just like that, does he have no care for his grades? doesn’t matter. it’s none of your business if he fails, that simply means that you won’t see him much anymore (which is a win for you).

you sighed. he should’ve been paired with someone else. why did it have to be you? why did it have to be your deskmate? and why did he have to be your deskmate? it was too much. how could you ever work with someone you hate? with someone who hates you?

you’re going to fail politics. you’re 100% sure of that. there was just no way that you’d ever accomplish this task— or you could beg your professor to let you switch partners. or you could ask your classmates to let you switch... but who would ever want someone as lazy as nagi to be their partner? fuck.

from the corner of your eye, you saw nagi yawn. it took all of you to swallow your pride whole and gulp it down to ever approach him, but it’s better than not trying. if you fail, at least you tried. even if it meant battling your inner demons.

so, clutching your bag straps tightly as if it would ever help, you turned to your sleepy deskmate. “nagi. it seems like we’re partners for the politics subject. i’m expecting you’d cooperate willingly so that—”

“sorry,” he interrupts with half lidded eyes. “do i know you?”

“you’re going to rip your paper to shreds.” nagi commented from behind you, peering over your shoulder as you aggressively wrote on your notebook. you imagined the page to be nagi’s face as you cruelly stabbed it, not caring about your pen or your paper’s state. you cannot believe that for some reason, you’re still stuck with the snow white haired guy. you’ve tried everything there is to get rid of him but nothing seemed to work.

“right,” your teeth could break with how hard you clenched your jaw. “will you be free later?”

“oh. i have soccer training.”

of course he fucking has soccer training.

you gave him the strongest deadpan you could muster before exhaling a deep breath. once to calm yourself down, twice to clear your head and thrice in hopes of losing all of your lungs’ air so you could shrivel and die on the spot. nagi seems to be unaware of your thoughts— and even if he had understood your facial expression and body language, he simply did not care.

“i’ll be free after, though.” he adds, as if you’d ever know that information if he hasn’t uttered it. this at least gives you the sense that he might care about the group project, and that he won’t be a complete inconvenience.

“okay. let’s meet up at the coffee shop near school. will you be done at 8?”

“yeah. but,” he pauses. “i thought we’d just do the project at my place.”

“who died and made you king?” you blurt out before you could think of a proper response. you wondered if you’d ever feel so strongly about a person the same way you did for nagi. he was driving you mad.

“what?” his clueless face almost made you feel guilt— almost. but you ignored the sensation and frowned instead. the least you could do was give him a clearer sentence:

“there’s no way i’d ever step a foot at your house.”

“it’s fine. no one’s home anyway.”

“that’s even worse.”

“huh? oh. don’t worry. you’re not my type.”

the conversations you somehow hold with nagi infuriates you. he has this way of making you feel like shit for some reason, and he does it with so much nonchalance you’d wonder if he insults everyone. but you know better and you know he definitely doesn’t, because you’re the only one he treats like this. it’s the absolute worst.

what does he mean you’re not his type? were you not pretty enough? not tall enough? not skinny enough? not fair enough? not what? ever since grade school, you’ve always thought that he sees you as someone “too much” and yet as he stands here with you, in an empty classroom— you wondered how you could be “too much” and yet be “not enough” at the same time.

and since when did you care about how he views you? since you were kids, apparently. because the words he would utter up until this day shatters you all the same. and you hate him— so goddamn much. but beyond all that anger, there’s grief. it doesn’t subside even as you grabbed all your things and shoved 6”3 foot tall nagi aside.

for some reason, he shows up at the café you mentioned at exactly 8 o’clock in the evening. you were typing away on your laptop, while a cup of caramel macchiato and a bunch of scattered papers littered your desk. you didn’t expect him to come, and it would’ve been better if he didn’t. but somehow, he’s here and he looks a little apologetic.

“are you upset?” he asks. his sports bag slumped over his shoulder as he stands right next to you. there’s an unoccupied seat in front but he doesn’t take it— at least, not yet. his whole, undivided attention was poured onto you and you alone. it makes you squirm in your seat, so you decided not to look up from your screen to greet him.

“no. take a seat.”

“you look upset.”

“do you want me to be upset?”

“no.”

“then shut up.”

wordlessly, he takes the seat right in front of you and slouches. he looks battered and fatigued from practice, but he doesn’t say a word to complain (to your absolute shock). you guessed that he walked straight from the field to the café without even changing or taking a shower, because his clothes clung to him like a shirt a few sizes smaller.

“shouldn’t you go change?”

“yeah. but i left my clean clothes at my apartment.”

fifteen minutes pass and you suddenly closed your laptop shut, eyes fixated on nagi’s gunmetal gray ones. he looks surprised from your sudden move, a look that you didn’t expect to recognize due to how miniscule it was. you felt bad for him. the café was getting too cold for comfort and all he wore was his jersey (one that’s drenched with his sweat). if you stayed any longer, he’d probably catch a cold.

why you care, however, that was not a question you could currently answer.

“let’s just go to your place.”

despite his constant need to laze around, his place wasn’t a complete mess— well, yes, there are (presumably dirty) clothes on the floor and used dishes on the sink, but you’ve seen worse. you expected his apartment to be so much worse. it seems like he’s not a complete monkey to not understand basic hygiene and cleanliness.

your only problem is that nagi seems to be bored. you caught him dozing off the coffee table as you ramble about your politics project, and you don’t even have to ask if he cares at all— because he’s trying to hide his obvious distate and boredom. so, even though you’d rather proceed to do your work rather than humoring this 6 foot tall giant, you pipe up:

“wanna play a game?”

“what game? i don’t like games that require effort.”

“it’s called real or not real. we take turns in guessing if the other person’s sentence is real or not real.”

“sounds like a pain.” he groans.

“you know what truly is a pain?” you turned to look at him. “this politics project. so take it or leave it. i’m kind enough to give you a break.”

“shouldn’t we play a different game? a mobile game, maybe.”

“what about a wager, then? the winner’s the boss.”

the game was a piece of cake— to you, at least. nagi’s an open book and it’s easy to read him. you explained that the mechanics goes like this: you take turns in giving very specific sentences about yourself, and the other party has to guess whether it’s real or not real. five wrong guesses means that the other person wins. so the only thing you have to do is to make sure that nagi loses first.

unfortunately, you were down to four mistakes while nagi only had one. the game wasn’t going like how you imagined it would be. how were you supposed to know that nagi keeps a cactus as a pet? how were you supposed to know that he only figured out how to play soccer when he was in high school? how were you supposed to know that he’s got a picture of his crush under his study table? (you still had no idea who that crush is, and it quite literally shocked you). how were you supposed to know that someone like nagi seishiro, was capable of liking someone romantically?

on the other hand, out of the six sentences you threw at him— he had only guessed wrong once. you don’t know how he’s so good at this game, too. it was either he knew awfully a lot about you, or was really good at second guessing things. you’re pretty sure it was the former. how could he know a lot about you, when he doesn’t even know your name?

“real or not real: i hate you.” you stated. his nonchalance was putting you off, but you’re not sure if you were uneasy because of it or if you felt guilty for saying that sentence out loud. you told yourself you could just take it back and act as if it’s not real but nagi himself looked so convinced when he said:

“real.”

he was right once again. but you didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whole thing when his sentence comes.

“real or not real: i want to kiss you right now.”

the silence was so loud it pierces your ears— or maybe you have gone deaf with that sentence. you’re not sure of anything at the moment because it feels like your senses were slowly slipping from your own fingers. if nagi was joking, his face didn’t show any signs of him laughing soon. but maybe you should know better, maybe he could joke like that with a straight face.

so you waited for a few minutes, for him to tell you that it was a joke— that it’s not part of the goddamn game because how could it be part of it? but nothing comes. his eyes were simply on you as he patiently awaits your answer. your make it or break it answer, at that. and it only dawns on you that this is real, this is his sentence and he’s expecting you to play. he’s expecting you to answer real or not real. because you were the one who proposed the game in the first place.

you wanted to scream and to run away, but you were rooted on the spot. time stood still and it froze you under nagi’s unblinking gunmetal gray eyes, as if the situation’s not bad at all. but this is a trick question, your rational mind says. he told you when you were younger that he despises people like you, asked you if he knows you upon meeting at your politics class, and told you that you’re not exactly his type— so there’s no way he’d want to kiss you. right?

you meet his gaze. right, nagi?

against your better judgement to think it through, you suddenly blurted: “real.”

his face doesn’t shift and nor did the mood of the room. your heart was beating erratically as if you’re not facing the guy you clearly hated with a passion, but the silence ensues. you were screaming at yourself, why the fuck did you say real? were you out of your goddamned mind? were you crazy? the answer’s clearly not real!

nagi, however, only looks away. “huh.”

“what?”

“i almost won. what a pity.”

“the answer’s real?”

“yeah.” he tilts his head and answers as if you were stupid. as if you were the one who’s weird and doesn’t get what’s happening— but maybe that really is the case. because you’re mind hasn’t caught up yet. what does he mean the answer’s real? does that mean he wants to kiss you, right now? how is that possible after all the things he had said to you?

you laugh. not the quiet giggle or the chuckle you were accustomed to doing, but a belly laugh— one that could rival a hyena’s. because this was funny. too funny. he’s definitely joking and you’ve only figured out that now.

“okay, fine. you got me.”

“what do you mean?”

“the joke. you’re so serious that i almost missed it.”

confusion marrs his face. “what joke?”

“about the kiss.”

“i wasn’t joking.”

“well, i’d rather have you joking than for that sentence to be real.”

“you hate me that much?”

he almost sounds hurt, but you knew better. how could he be hurt, out of all people? if there’s anyone who’s hurt, it would be you. how can he say all those hurtful things with so much nonchalance and tell you things like he wants to kiss you? how cruel must he be to toy with you like this? it was not funny. none of this was funny.

and it reminds you of your childhood— of your little crush on nagi that never seemed to go away. somehow, the little you screams that you should not fall for something like this. that it is easier to hate nagi than to love him. that it is easier to stand up from your seat, smile, and tell him: “yeah. i do.”

it has been a week. maybe two. or three? you’ve lost count. you’ve never visisted nagi again after the whole real or not real game, and you never saw him often because he’s been excused. something about soccer championship that you didn’t bother listening to. besides, you liked the comfortable silence now that he’s not around.

your phone dings. and it’s from an unknown number. but somehow, you guessed it has something to do with nagi.

unknown

real or not real: i’m sorry

oh. that’s right. the game technically hasn’t finished yet because no one has won. you told yourself numerous time that you won’t reply to his message, but against your better judgement, you somehow still did.

you

real

when your class ended, nagi seishiro was right outside. he was panting and sweaty— as if he ran just to get where you were. but this is nagi we’re talking about. there’s no way he’d actually do something like that, despite his lingering look on you. what’s that supposed to mean, anyway?

breathless, he speaks up to catch your attention. you were busy stuffing your books inside your locker, back against him as you completely ignored his presence. you did not say hi. you did not meet his gaze. but even without direct contact, your heart was drumming against your rib just by knowing that he’s near. what the heck.

“we won the game.”

there’s a lot of responses that entered your mind at that very moment. entry #1, who asked? entry #2, who cares? entry #3, why are you telling me this? and the list goes on. you’re pretty sure none of them were positive— but this was all so confusing. why was nagi chasing after you like a lost puppy who lost its mom? what’s he going for here?

“that’s good for you.” you slammed your locker shut and walked away. nagi eventually follows after you, as if there’s something in his throat that he wants to let out, but you didn’t give him the chance to. you’re sure nothing that would come out of his mouth is good. you’re sure he’s running after you because of the politics project, or because he wants to annoy you.

and you hate it. you hate him. your gut twists at the thought of him running after you like this is some shoujo manga and that’s the annoying part. how is your heart flipping with your every waking step if you hate him so much? you’re supposed to hate nagi, god fucking damn it.

you finally stop in your tracks, whipping around to face the 6 foot tall soccer player. to get it all over with.

“is there something you need to tell me?”

“we haven’t finished the game.”

“i don’t care about the game. leave me alone.”

“it’s your turn. your real or not real.”

this was stupid no matter what angle you look at it. it was just some game you made up and decided to try with nagi. it didn’t mean anything to you because all you wanted by then was to get his attention, so why did it matter so much to him? you don’t get it. you’re not sure how nagi circuits because everything he does confuses you. and before you know it, your irrational side takes over. reason left your body when you blurted the words:

“stop it. fucking stop this.”

why are you so persistent?

“was it fun to toy with me? was it fun when you told me you despised me when we were kids? was it fun when you told me i was not your type? i don’t fucking get it.”

you were angry. mad. seething. your blood boiled underneath your skin and you feared that it would leave your whole being in nothing but dust. through it all, you’re also confused. perplexed. lost. your mind can’t understand the fine line between hate and love anymore. your feelings overlap with each other and merges— you’re not sure what you’re feeling now. you’ve wondered how long you’ve buried this string of emotions you’ve had for nagi. that would explain why you’re nothing but a ticking time bomb now.

“if my playing with my feelings give you so much fun— then do it elsewhere. i have no time for things like this, nagi.”

“but i’m not playing, though. i’ve liked you for quite awhile now.”

excuse me?

“oops. i accidentally gave the answer to my next sentence. what a pain,” he scratches the nape of his nexk and looks away.

how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that?

“do you expect me to believe you?”

“i’ve got no reason to lie,” he shrugs. “plus, lying’s a pain. i don’t like it.”

“but— what you said back then...”

“i, well. i go blank when i talk to you. i guess. my stomach flips when you’re around and my throat goes dry.” nagi doesn’t look at you once while he utters this. tinge of red coats the tip of his ears and this is where you think ‘this is it’. he’s not lying. this is real, and you know that much— nagi never looked nervous until now. you think maybe that explains why he would avoid your gaze and why he would say the most confusing things. you think maybe this is nagi. the socially awkward nagi. the one who can’t talk to people properly nagi.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty. i despise pretty things because it makes me feel things. it’s a pain.” he mumbles. “of course i know you. of course i know your name. but it’s the first thing i thought to say because your face was too close. you’re prettier up close.”

he should stop talking. he should drop it all together and just kiss you, but you could never say these words because you haven’t wrapped your head around the whole thing yet. nagi likes you. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi short circuits when you’re around. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi’s actually confessing. nagi likes you. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes you.

“i don’t like pretty things. that’s not my type at all. but reo said i might be in love with you.” he finally turns to look at you and tilts his head. your face burns— and you swore it was because of the remnants of your anger, but everyone else could tell that it was not. your heart does a somersault, but this time it does not drop. it stays in the air, lingering like nagi’s perfume scent, until he carefully waits for it to land on his palms when he said: “i think he’s right. i’m in love with you.”

for the duration of your game with nagi and with all the truths shared between the both of you— this is probably the most real out of them. this is the only time he doesn’t ask the question ‘real or not real’ because his face says it all. his face says that it’s the real and raw truth. his face says that you must believe this because he’s not making it up. it was the first time you could read his expression. it was the first time that you’re not confused by nagi.

“fucking dumbass,” you comment. “that’s not how it works.”

you reach over to grab his collar, on your highest tip-toes because of his height. you’re pretty sure you’re the only ones present in the secluded corridor but the clamors of your heart makes an illusion of people cheering for you. somewhere in the parallel worlds of your universe, you think maybe those cheers exist. it only silences when you pulled nagi down with you, whispering:

“i hope you still want to kiss me, then.”

when he closes in the gap between the both of you, his answer was loud and clear.

i do. always.

notes. YES YES YES i finally finished this long ass fic! i’ve been writing it since forever & im just SO glad i finally get to finish it 🥹 as u can see, there is nothing on my mind rn but nagi seishiro. he’s literally living in my head rent-free and i’m not complaining. i love him too much. i hope u enjoyed this ‼️ as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you so so much for ur patience & love for this blog ❤️

ִ ࣪𖤐 masterlist !

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double-hoe-seven · 3 years

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AFC Richmond as boyfriends

Here’s a lil headcanon collection of our favorite himbos as boyfriends.

I did it again for the staff (: AFC Richmond Staff as partners

A/N: Definitely didn’t put everyone but these were my top ones and it’s 2 AM so imma leave it here.

Sam Obisanya

The absolute sweetest man you have ever met

Such a softie, very concerned about making sure you’re happy and comfortable with whatever choices you make together.

He always picks the most random times to surprise you with things; showing up at your work randomly for lunch or with coffee/tea, random little souvenirs from his away games.

He’s always putting himself second and sometimes you have to remind him “hey, babe, you can do things for yourself, you deserve nice things too.”

Just, compliments galore with him. He’ll always find a way to compliment you on something.

The most cuddly person ever, he loves public affection (hand holding, piggy backing, hugging, kissing if it’s not raunchy, etc), he really just likes showing you off because he feels like the luckiest man in the world to have you.

He takes his time with your relationship, letting it bloom and grow at it’s own pace.

There aren’t many fights between you, hardly ever, the last “fight” you had was because you couldn’t unanimously decide which dog to rescue. The solution? You adopted both, now you share a one-eyed Jack Russell Terrier named Starro and a three legged German Shepherd puppy named Harry (Pawter. He was so proud at his pun when he showed you the then 3-month old puppy.)

Again, just the sweetest, more romantic man you’ve ever met and ever will meet.

thesexisgoodtoo. hesaverygentleandgivinglover

Isaac McAdoo

Man’s stubborn.

I mean it, he is as stubborn as a mule.

I’M DEAD SERIOUS, he once pouted for 5 days when you accidentally ate the last Rolo in the flat.

But he’s also romantic in a sort of rugged way?

He won’t go shopping with you but he knows what colors look best on you, he knows what styles look good on you, and he has your sizes and shades memorized.

Bear.

Mr. sometimes-crank-teddy-bear over here.

He’ll say he doesn’t want something but he will eat half of your food if given the chance. If you step away from your food to get a drink or something, there will be a good part mission when you get back.

Its a tradition to go on a date the morning of a game, and snuggle up with a movie after the game.

You have had more than a few drunk texts from him, all of them equally funny and full of sexual innuendos.

You don’t address his Rolo addiction. It could be something much worse anyway.

Richard Montlaur

So many visits to the goat farm he was raised on!

He really has to drag you back to London after visiting his parents because you don’t want to leave all the precious goats (and you and his parents get along famously).

You spend alternating holidays with each others families (except for Bastille day, you always spend that either together or with his family.)

There are always roses in your shared flat.

It’s a constant battle over his facial hair.

He has a grudge against the way the English make French pastries.

He has a habit of falling asleep on the couch or in uncomfortable positions and then wondering why his back or neck hurts.

Little spoon.

He’s teaching you French.

This man is a smooth operator, master at flirtation and romance. He’s good at planning romantic dates and outtings.

Dani Rojas

You 100% believe his mom when she says he was born caffeinated.

One of your first dates was a Mumford and Sons concert which was an interesting experience.

Soft boi hours with him. He’s a lil puppy dog.

Does this man ever sleep? Rarely.

He rises with the son and wants to get the day started immediately but he’s mostly letting you sleep in now.

He LOVES trying new things, exploring new places, generally having new experiences.

His absolute favorite thing to do when he’s not training is playing football (or any game, really) with the kids in your neighborhood. They all love him.

He’s a sweet boyfriend, not as sweet as Sam but he’s a close second.

You alternate who plans date night. You split the chores 50/50 but divvy it up if one of you is sick or has more work to do.

There’s so much alcohol in your flat its unreal.

You usually go to sleep before him but he has a bad habit of throwing himself into bed and partially waking you.

He makes the best breakfast most mornings.

And don’t forget the trips back home to visit his family in Guadalajara.

After a long day of training, he loves just laying down with his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair.

Jamie Tartt (Season 1)

FUCK NO

Jamie Tartt (Season 2)

On your first date you got drunk and bonded over shitty fathers.

Not that either of you really remembered the next day, you were both too hungover to immediately recall the night.

His love language is kind words.

At the start he needed a lot of reassuring that you did care about him for who he was, warts and all.

He’s slightly awkward when it comes to romantic gestures so most of the date planning falls on you don’t mind.

He still has some high maintenance behavior but he’s working on it and you’re proud of how far he’s come from the prick he used to be.

Your fights are usually over petty shit like where to eat for dinner or what movie to go see.

He will not hesitate to buy your feminine products for you. He knows your preferred brands and sizes and what treats you like when its that time.

He’s good at those rigged carnival games, the many little stuffed animals in your closet can attest to that.

He talks in his sleep. It’s all nonsense.

He has a soft spot for the neighbor’s cat (and cats in general).

Roy Kent

Rugged.

He’s great to snuggle up to.

The man is honest to boot. He doesn’t sugar coat anything at all.

10/10 times he will go down on you if asked. He’s a giver.

He is the heaviest sleeper in the world. You don’t know why he bothers setting alarms.

Phoebe has a room at your flat and spends so much time with you both.

Many nights have been spent reading different books on the couch together.

He has to clean the drains since 75% of it is his.

Fuck is a very versatile word in your home, used daily.

Not the most romantic man alive but he has his moments.

Date nights are usually relaxed and proper but sometimes you can make the old man have a little fun.

He growls at least a dozen times a day, it’s his main response.

Jan Maas

My beloved

My sweet, beloved Jan who can’t/won’t use a filter to save his life.

He’s blunt in everything and sometimes it makes you want to slap him.

Jan is still getting used to English ways and mannerisms.

He has good intentions but sometimes needs a little help with wording.

He likes going on Aquarium dates.

The more tired he is, the clingier he is and it’s too cute.

Once after a game he plopped onto the couch next to you and basically tried to curl up in your lap.

He can make amazing pancakes.

Thats it though.

You’ll do most of the cooking if you value living in a flat that’s not on fire.

He’s a sweetheart though.

Mostly good intentions though.

Doesn’t mind nudity and had to quickly be reined in by the team. Not at home though.

At home he can easily be found lounging in boxers and a t-shirt while he sips coffee.

He knows what he’s doing.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker

#Ted Lasso #Jan Maas #Isaac McAdoo #Dani Rojas #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt #Sam Obisanya #Richard Montlaur #AFC Richmond Himbos #AFC Richmond #AFC Richmond Greyhounds #Emotional Support Himbos #I love them all your honor #Jan Maas my beloved #Sam Obisanya is baby

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untaemedqueen · 4 years

Text

Snowed In

Best Friend!Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Best Friends To Lovers, Huddle of Warmth, Domestic!AU, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Mega Fluff, Marking, Impregnation Kink, Thigh Slapping, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Possessive!Hoseok, Ab Worship, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Belly Bulge, Multiple Orgasms, Doggy Style, Spanking, Cream Pie

WordCount: 15k

A/N: Okay! MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS! I’m super super lucky to have all of my darlings in one collab with me! Always a shoutout to my loves @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx and @underthejoon for rooting me on always! Shout out to @hobi-gif for beta-ing it and literally helping me learn English lmfao. My other loves @snackhobi and @yeojaa rooted on the idea for this fic and helped me flesh things out and I’m so lucky I’m constantly surrounded by such amazing people!

Seasons for most people inspire and bring delight with every change of color on leaves in high up trees. Yet with you, you always hated all the seasons and everything they stood for. Until you met him. Or let him in anyway.

It sounds corny and ridiculous. It probably is.

People always deemed you cold hearted or uncaring and it was all true. But he brought love to your heart. He made colors brighter. He made the world seem bigger and better than you ever noticed before.

He was always around, even if you didn't want him to be. You had some friends from childhood that insisted on keeping him around. He was kind and eager with everything that he did. And it annoyed the ever living crap out of you.

But you slowly opened up that iron cage around your heart and let him in. Even if it took him ages for you to let him in, he was determined.

You never understood why it always turned terribly cold the day before Halloween. It was a constant as well as surprising. But, what was probably more surprising was that people couldn't give a bigger fuck about frigid temperatures when they had revealing costumes to wear.

"I don't wanna go!" you whine to Taehyung as he takes off his shirt. Rolling his eyes, he throws the fabric perfectly on the top of your head before thrusting his fist up in the air.

"Score!" he cheers loudly as he grabs the top of his costume.

You ball up the tee-shirt in hand before chucking it at him with a sneer.

"Kim Taehyung," you mumble as you look back down at your phone.

"You have to go. Do you want me to not get pussy? Is that what it is? You have an agenda against me? A no pussy agenda? That's fucked up Y/N. I can't even believe you!" He rants as he slips on his top.

"Oh my God," you murmur as you lean back against the headboard of his bed.

Knowing this man since you were six -- nothing has changed. He's been by your side through thick and thin. He has always been a fearless best friend and a fierce fighter for you.

You've never liked people but the one person you've really only cared for has been Kim Taehyung. And, Park Jimin -- but he's a different story entirely.

"Jaemin is going too, you don't want to see your own boyfriend?" Taehyung asks as he stands in front of his mirror.

You look up slowly from your phone only to catch his gaze through the mirror. "Jaemin is his own person. He can do whatever he wants without me having to be by his side like glue."

Taehyung snorts gently as he combs his fingers through his hair.

"Man, I don't know how you keep relationships. You're so mean. Jaemin has a strong heart to be with you," you give him a fake smile as you flip him your middle finger.

"Not everyone needs to be as coddled as you do, Tae," you reply as you stand up off the bed.

"Hey. I'm only so needy and clingy because my parents didn't love me as a child," he says as he puts hairspray in his hair.

You snort gently at his words before the door of his dorm room opens.

"Tae!" you hear Hoseok cheer and you internally sigh.

In your first year of college, Hoseok was in every single class you signed up for. You saw him for multiple hours a day and he was so nice -- so completely nice, that it was terrifying.

No one should be so kind and selfless but that's just who he is. Once Taehyung and Jimin had met him, the trio that you’d always been had turned into some bizarre foursome that you didn't quite care for. You were used to the other two around, but with Hoseok you just became uncomfortable. Maybe it's your crippling anxiety or your extreme awkwardness.

"Hey Hoseok!" Taehyung calls out to him as he grabs his pants.

Hoseok looks around the room before spotting you. His smile seems to widen -- if that's even possible.

He is incredibly handsome. His eyes always seem to sparkle with an energy you've never really seen before. Jimin calls it allure, Taehyung calls it kindness.

“Y/N! Hey! Happy Halloween!” He says happily as he enters the room.

His costume is simple, just a leather jacket, black t-shirt and black ripped jeans with a Scream mask hanging from his neck but it’s nice.

“Hey, Hobi,” you reply, your voice is wrapped with dull tones. Sitting back down on the bed, you look at your phone for a distraction.

“What’s your costume?” he asks as he sits down beside you.

“She’s going as herself. Because, that’s the scariest thing this world can offer,” Taehyung jeers as he puts on his eyeliner.

You give a fake laugh as you lock your phone. “Wow! Tae, you’re so funny! You get all the girls with your quirky humor?”

Hoseok laughs beside you, the sound is endearing to hear, unfortunately. But, you do find yourself giggling as Taehyung flips you the middle finger right back.

“I don’t like Halloween. Or any holidays as a matter of fact… or people,” you tell the cute black haired boy beside you. He hums understandingly as he folds his arms.

“It’s cool to be introverted,” he replies softly which Taehyung scoffs at.

“Not my Y/N. When she’s with me, she breaks out of her shell, right?” you hum uneasily as Taehyung enters the bathroom.

“Because you make me!” you retort loudly, lifting your body off of the headboard of his bed to call out to him. You huff out as you lean back before folding your arms and looking at Hoseok.

“How do you deal with him?” you quip as he looks up at the ceiling.

“He was your friend first,” he replies, a gentle smirk settling onto his features before turning his head to you.

“Touche,” you mutter as Taehyung throws his pajama pants at your head from the doorway of the bathroom.

Going to parties was certainly not a hobby for you. They’re loud and the environment usually smells like stale beer or high proof vodka. People stumble or shove you out of the way in their drunken stupor. It’s usually a gigantic mess.

But, if you must, you go to parties with your two best friends plus one Jung Hoseok, who is too kind for his own good.

Exactly what you hate is right before your eyes as you all pull up to Jimin’s frat house. The music is so loud, you can practically feel the bass beneath your feet as you step onto the front lawn. Already, there are strewn Solo cups on the ground and girls in tiny costumes. Which doesn’t bother you as much, you dress how you want to dress but it’s just so fucking cold!

You see him in passing, your boyfriend flits away before you can even call out to him. He looks good, really good. Sometimes you’re surprised he asked you out first. His hair is coiffed and you know his costume is supposed to be a zombie jock, which isn’t far off from what he normally is. He’s gigantic compared to you, the quarterback of the college football team and sitting comfortably at six foot five. He’s incredibly handsome and he’s yours. Which is bizarre because you never even thought he noticed you at all around the college green until last year.

“Lee Jaemin!” Taehyung calls out to him as he grabs a beer.

You cringe as Tae calls him, he shouldn’t have to come over if he doesn’t want to...

“Oh shit! What’s up guys!” Jaemin cheers loudly. You can hear the slur already in his voice.

He gives high fives to everyone before planting a sloppy, yet quick, kiss to your lips.

“So, where’s your costume?” Jaemin asks you as he pops the top of his can open.

“I don’t like Halloween, you know that,” you mumble as he ruffles your hair with a chuckle.

“You don’t like anything, baby. Except this dick.” He kisses your hairline before walking away leaving you all on your own.

You scratch the back of your neck uncomfortably, before looking over at Taehyung and Hoseok.

“I’m sorry,” your apology is weak as well as your voice.

God, you and Jaemin are so different sometimes.

Taehyung passed you a beer with a gentle scoff and you can tell that he's holding his tongue.

Cracking open the beer, you take a long sip before staring at the frat house.

"I'm sorry I made you come." Tae apologizes softly as your blue haired best friend begins to bolt towards you all.

You grumble softly in response before groaning as Jimin bum rushes you. Knocking all of the air out of your lungs, you cough loudly as he squeezes you tightly to his body.

"Happy Halloween! You bunch of assholes!" he cries happily as he shakes you around in his arms.

"Get… off!" you wheeze out, slapping his arm with all the strength you can muster.

Once he lets go, your free hand drops to your knee as you gasp for breath.

"You okay?" Hoseok asks softly, a goofy smirk on his lips as he presses his hand to your shoulder.

You give a thumbs up weakly before coughing loudly and standing upright.

"LET'S GO PARTY!" Jimin yells loudly across the lawn as he throws his arms up in the air.

You watch as other drunken college kids cheer along with him and you roll your eyes as Hoseok squeezes your shoulder.

You've managed to avoid conversing or dancing throughout the night which seemed like the only highlight so far. The typical pushing and shoving from drunk people to get places was the norm so far. You've been offered blunts and other varying drugs that you politely refused.

Finally, you found an empty couch in the large living room for you to become a loner in. Watching the drunken couple get up from making out to take their affairs elsewhere, you swooped in like a hawk to sit like a marble statue.

You spot Taehyung, his arm high up on the wall as he cages a girl between his hips. They're talking (more like screaming at each other over the loud music) and you lean your head back on the couch as you watch them.

Tae has always had an effervescent personality ever since you were very little, so it's no surprise as he holds his hand out to the random girl and she takes it willingly. You'll have no ride home tonight, you find yourself thinking.

Jaemin hasn't come looking for you once since you saw him on the lawn. He was a partier, you were not.

"Hey!" you hear someone scream to your right.

Looking to the owner of the voice, you give a small smirk as Hoseok flops down beside you.

"I was looking for you!" he calls into your ear as he passes you a Solo cup.

"Why?" you reply confused as your eyes focus on his handsome face in the dim lighting of the living room.

"Because I knew you'd be all alone!" he quips, elbowing you gently with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, the corners of your lips turning upward and you bring the Solo cup to your mouth.

"It's like watching a group of crazed monkeys jumping around!" He jokes as you both watch people dance.

You can feel yourself giggle softly, you couldn't hear anything soft above the music.

There's silence between you two for a bit, but it's comfortable. You can feel his thigh pressing into yours gently as you both watch people moving along with the music.

"Where's Jaemin?" Hoseok calls once more and you shrug flippantly as you take a sip of the mixed drink.

Vodka and cranberry.

"Did you make this?!" you ask him as he throws his arm over the lip of the couch.

He nods with a smile before raising his own.

"It's my favorite!" you call back to him.

"I know!" he replies happily before looking back at all the people.

He's so thoughtful, it's bizarre. Taking another swig of the drink, your eyes catch Jaemin walking up the stairs to his bedroom. Not even a minute later, a girl follows with a knowing smile set on her face.

Your eyebrow raises at the sight and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Sitting up slightly, Hoseok follows your gaze and he practically blanches at what you could possibly be thinking.

"Excuse me." you call to him as you stand up.

"Y/N! Wait!" Hoseok screams over the music but his voice gets softer as you weave through all the people dancing.

You feel his hand curl around your arm and your first instinct is to pull away from him. But, he keeps his grip steadfast.

"Stay with me." Hoseok pleads in your ear.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you rip your hand away from him. You grip the banister of the stairs.

As you look up at the second floor landing, it seems more daunting with each and every step.

"Yo!" Jimin cheers as he climbs up the stairs with you.

"Gonna go get your freak on?!" he jeers. Hoseok is quick to elbow him in the ribs, sending a cautionary glance his way that shuts him up quickly.

"Y-Y/N?" Jimin asks as you clutch tighter onto the staircase banister. Your knuckles turn white and you have to focus on your breathing as you ascend further.

You can’t even begin to respond as you reach the top of the staircase. Your mind is running a mile a minute.

Sure, you and Jaemin weren’t attached at the hip but you’ve been dating a year. He never even has given the hint that he was getting tired of you or bored of your presence. Although you could be completely different at times, you were happy when you were together. You didn’t need to see him every day to feel complete, you thought you both were okay.

“Y/N. You don’t have to do this.” Hoseok says as he grabs the Solo cup from your hand.

You can barely hear him above the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

Everything is muffled, even the high volume music that pumps throughout the house.

You spot Taehyung, making out with the girl from earlier outside Jimin’s bedroom. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and sees how ghostly pale you’ve become, his blood runs cold at the sight.

“What’s wrong?” he yells as he leaves the girl on her own.

Swallowing thickly, you ignore him. Your feet are slow and sluggish but you make your way to Jaemin’s room without a second thought.

Your hand shakes as you reach for the door knob. You can hear loud, bitter whispers from the men behind you as you clamp down on the metal in hand. Taking a deep breath, you thrust the door open.

You take your boyfriend of a year in your sights, his hands on the random girls hips as she straddles him. Apparently, they wasted no fucking time getting naked.

Your eyes flutter shut at the image now burned into your corneas. And, you feel as if a hole has been punched through your gut.

Upon opening your eyes, you see your boyfriend's head angle towards the door. His sideburns are caked down with sweat and with narrowed eyes he finally makes out your figure in the dark hallway.

“Holy shit! Hey, baby!” He yells out surprised as he shoves her off his lap.

Just hearing his voice, how it’s meant to sound playful brings tears to your eyes. Your nasal passages burn with bitter intent and you look down at the floor as he sits up.

“Hey, Y/N! Listen, I-” you’re shoved out the way by Taehyung and Jimin who advance towards the quarterback with venom dripping from their gaze.

“You fucking asshole!” Taehyung screams as he punches Jaemin in the face.

You feel arms wrapping around you, none other than Hoseok’s as he pulls you away.

“Chill man! It’s fucking college! You think I was going to just stay with your introverted little creepy friend for the rest of my life?!” you hear Jaemin scream as Hoseok tugs you towards the staircase.

You decided to walk home, even though it was freezing outside. The sharp breeze chills you to the bone and sets your mind alight as you trudge through the brown, crinkled leaves that line the sidewalks.

Hoseok has stayed by your side throughout the walk and thankfully, he hasn’t said a word. You were mad at yourself for crying. Stopping every so often to wipe bitter tears off your cheeks as you folded in on yourself.

He can see you shivering as you get closer to your dorm and he tugs off his leather jacket. Swinging it over your shoulders, he hooks his arm around you before pulling you into his chest.

You feel too dead inside to move, but the warmth and comfort of his body is nice.

“You don’t have to talk. But, I will.” Hoseok says as you finally reach your dorm.

Opening up the door for you, he waits as you scan the keycard to enter the building.

Once safely in the elevator, you shrug off his leather jacket before handing it back to him with a small murmur of a thank you.

You feel lucky that your dorm room is a single, because tonight you would not be ready to deal with a roommate.

Stepping inside your dorm, you make your way over to your bed before sitting down with a huff.

Hoseok, the handsome, kind man that he is sits in front of you. He crosses his legs and all you can see in his eyes is sorrow.

“You are so amazing. You’re too fucking good for that piece of shit asshole. You deserve so much better than him. Even if you come off rough around the edges, you’re kind to your friends and you care deeply about things that are important to you. You’re smart and confident in what you do know and you’re a force to be reckoned with. Fuck him if he doesn’t appreciate you. There are plenty of people in the world that do. Me being one of them,” he says as he puts his hands on your knees.

You weren’t in the mood for nice comments but the way that he says it, with such conviction makes you feel almost lighter in a way.

You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out.

“You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to entertain me. I’m here for you to make sure you’re okay.” Hoseok says gently as he runs his hands over your knees.

Maybe you’ve been too harsh with him. Maybe he was someone you wanted in your life. He’s helped you in ways you didn’t even think you would need tonight. He’s dependable.

"Thanks, Hobi." you manage to whisper out.

It was a nickname you made for him and only him. And, only you could use it.

"You can lay down if you want. I won't leave you alone, unless you want me too," he says softly.

You didn't know if you could handle being all by yourself right now after the night you've had.

"Stay," you whisper as you take off your hoodie.

He gives an understanding nod as you lay down on your bed. Pulling the covers over you, he sighs gently as you close your eyes.

You never really understood until now why Jimin and Taehyung brought Hoseok into your group. Of course, he was kind and fun to be around but he was dependable and just a genuinely good friend.

"Sit," you tell him as you push yourself flush against the wall, turning onto your side.

Hoseok seems to be fighting within himself for a second before he's kicking off his shoes to sit up against the headboard beside you.

He brings his knees up to his chest before wrapping his arms around them. You've noticed him doing it several times in the past. It's endearing to watch him do it every time, like he needs to make room for something.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you remember the horrible scene from not too long ago. You really, really liked him. Even if you weren't the best at showing it.

"I thought we were okay. I know that sometimes I can be difficult to be with b-"

"Y/N," Hoseok interrupts you. You look up at him as he angles his face down towards yours, "There is nothing wrong with you. This is his fault. I'm not going to sit here and let you beat yourself up over that fucking douchebag."

You hum unsurely, as your fingers pull at a stray strand of fabric that sticks out from your comforter.

"I just… I don't date people because I'm not confident or anything and look what happens," you reply hopelessly as you turn onto your back. Staring at the ceiling, your eyes flit from one glow in the dark star that you and Jimin stuck up there to the other.

"You're beautiful. Not just your face, but your being is beautiful. Confidence isn't easy to gain but you should have it because you deserve it. You're pretty wonderful." Hoseok says as he looks up at the ceiling with you.

His words are warming, like chicken soup when you've got a cold.

"Thanks for being my friend Hobi," you say as you close your eyes.

"Thanks for being mine," he replies, knocking his foot playfully into your hip.

The bedroom door swings open with your two best friends and you sit up on your elbows as they file in.

Taehyung's knuckles are cut up, dried blood flecks his costume and his fingers. Jimin is the same, but a stream of dried blood is apparent from his nose and your eyes widen at the sight.

Tae looks over you before jumping onto your body.

You groan loudly as he manhandles you. He wraps his arms around you into a bear hug before peppering your cheek with kisses.

"I'm so sorry," he cries out as you push at his shoulders.

"Get off me!" you whine, slapping the bloody shirt away from you.

"What happened to you?" Hoseok asks Jimin.

"Jaemin hooked me when I told him that he's no longer welcome in Alpha Sigma Tau." Jimin spits at the simple mention of his name and you feel your heart almost as light as a feather as he winks at you.

Hoseok high fives Chim before looking back up at the ceiling shaking his head.

Maybe being a weird foursome is better than a trio.

Being on campus as the quarterback's ex-girlfriend is uncomfortable and a hard pill to swallow. But, it's easier with the three lunatics you call best friends.

"Help me pack!" you hear Taehyung complain as you lean against the headboard of his bed.

Hoseok throws a pair of briefs at him before grimacing.

"Why should we help you pack when you didn't even invite us?" Jimin quips as he lifts his head from the hardwood floor.

The younger best friend scoffs loudly as he throws his skiing goggles into his suitcase.

"Believe me, if I could bring you all to the Swiss Alps -- I would. But, you know how my parents are."

You do in all honesty. Taehyung belongs to one of the richest families in the area and his family is quick to dismiss others who are not of their similar standing. You were lucky that your mother was his father's assistant and the same goes for Jimin with Taehyung's mother.

"What are you doing for Christmas, Jimin?" Hoseok asks curiously as he leans back against the headboard beside you.

"I'm going to France with my younger brother. Our mom got us a good deal at the Four Seasons." Jimin says flippantly as he fixes his varsity jacket.

Hoseok hums before nudging you, "What about you?" he asks softly.

Your heart pangs uncomfortably as you look at your different colored socks.

"I'll probably just stay here for Christmas. I was supposed to spend Christmas with Jaemin and my parents are going out of the country so I'll be here," you reply as you look out the window.

You can see the sudden snow flurry sticking to the bare branches of trees and the windowsill of Taehyung's bedroom window.

You didn't realize just how fucked up your holiday plans would be after Jaemin cheated on you just a month ago.

"Oh. No way." Hoseok mumbles softly and you clear your throat uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry Y/N." Jimin whispers as he sits up.

You shrug as Hoseok puts his hand on your shoulder.

He looks at the other guys before clearing his throat.

"Well… you can come with me for Christmas, if you'd like. You'd be more than welcome," he suggests. Just the thought makes your eyes widen.

"Why would I go home with you for Christmas?" you ask, confused.

You watch the tips of his ears turn red and he shakes his head oddly.

"I mean, it was just a suggestion. You'd be welcome at my house. My parents are really kind," he whispers softly.

Taehyung looks at Jimin and they wink in tandem to one another.

"You should go, Y/N! I'm sure it would be a lot of fun! Better than sitting in your room eating ramen for Christmas!" Taehyung cheers as he throws a bunch of socks into his suitcase.

"I couldn't intrude," you reply softly, looking down at your hands.

Go home with Hoseok for Christmas? Why would you ever do such a thing? Sure, he's one of your best friends but… you would meet his parents. You would sit around the table like a family. That's just… insane.

"You wouldn't be intruding. Plus, my parents know all about you. They'd love to meet you," Hobi says, knocking his knee into yours.

"You tell your parents about me?" your voice is small and distant as you pick at the skin around your nails.

"Of course I do. You're amazing," his voice is enraptured with a breathy laugh and now you can feel your ears starting to warm up.

There's silence for a moment which Taehyung is more than happy to break. "That's perfect! See, Y/N! You won't be alone for Christmas!"

You hum uneasily before looking over to Hoseok as he tilts his head at you. His eyes crease in delight and his expression is one of pure earnestness.

You don't want to be alone for the holidays. Because, when you're truly alone the sadness sets in.

"You're sure it's okay?" you ask him and his smile widens at your words.

"I'm positive," he replies as he slings his arm over your shoulder.

Hoseok was used to your silence by now. It doesn't bother him one bit, it's just nice to know that you're sitting beside him.

With his wrist up on the steering wheel, his eyes glance over and it warms his heart to see you taking in the colorful Christmas lights strung up on houses.

It's a pleasant surprise to him when you speak first. "I didn't buy your parents any presents."

Hoseok lets out an amused chuckle as he focuses back on the road.

"You don't need presents, you are the present for Christmas." he lets out a laugh as you elbow his ribs. "Hey! I'm driving! You maniac!" he yells as you chuckle.

"I'm serious! I need to buy your parents something at least!" you complain as you enter town from the outskirts.

"We can stop at Jeulgeoum." he replies as you continue to drive.

The town he grew up in is very small. Like it's own community. You feel like the Grinch as Hoseok starts to wave at random people that notice his car in the middle of the street.

You really, really hate holidays. Your parents were never excited to spend time with you like you used to watch in movies. Even if it was two days out of the whole year, it was more like a hassle to them.

As Hoseok continues to wave, you find yourself sliding down in the passenger's seat. You pull your hood up, eyes fixed on the dashboard.

"That's Mr. Lee. He makes the best mochi in the town center. I used to go into town with my sister and he used to make me dance for free pieces of rice cake." his voice is filled with warmth as he recalls the memory. You find your head peeking up to look at the old man and the corner of your lips turns upwards as he waves wildly to Hoseok.

The car slows down and you look over to the handsome boy as he lowers his window.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Lee!" Hoseok cheers out the window.

"You as well, Hoseok. Merry Christmas to you and your girlfriend." Widening your eyes, you pull your hood up. You train your eyes on your jeans as you lower your head.

This was a BAD idea. It hadn't even occurred to you that people would call you his girlfriend. Then, you'd have to waste your breath explaining that you're just friends and why you're with him rather than your family.

"Sorry about that." Hobi whispers as he rolls up his window.

You hum in agreement as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Just try to enjoy yourself. I know that it's hard but you might just have fun," he says softly.

Hoseok seemed to know everyone which isn't shocking. He's so absolutely kind and he did grow up here.

Entering Jeulgeoum, you're thankful for the heat that rushes to your cheeks as soon as you step in.

"My mom likes glass figurines." Hoseok says as he closes the door shut behind you.

There was glass as far as the eye can see and your first thought is do not fucking touch anything. You will not let your clumsiness embarrass you today.

"Welcome to Jeul- Jung Hoseok?!" The warm voice makes you turn your head and you feel yourself relaxing at the older woman as she smiles widely at the sight of him.

"Hi Mrs. Kim! Merry Christmas!" he says, pulling down the hood of his coat.

His black hair is sticking up at odd ends and you notice how endearing it is. His smile is wide, cheekbones bouncing up to the heavens as the woman gasps.

"Oh my goodness! Merry Christmas!" she cheers, rounding the register to get a good look at him.

Awkwardly, you look around at the glass pieces.

"Well you've gotten so big! It feels like almost yesterday I was kicking you out of my shop with the back of a broom." you smirk at her words, you can't imagine Hoseok running in here like a bull in a China shop.

"And who is this?" your heart begins to beat faster and you look at Hobi as his smile becomes warm.

"This is my friend, Y/N." he slings his arm over your shoulder for good measure.

You bow your head to Mrs. Kim taking off your hood. Her chubby cheeks are jolly and sweet as she bows her head back to you.

"Well, aren't you just gorgeous. A friend or a girlfriend?" Mrs. Kim quips as she rounds the register once more.

Her question makes you blush fiercely, your neck heating up quicker than a fireplace ever could.

"Just a friend. A really, really good friend." he replies as his hand drifts over your shoulder comfortably.

Mrs. Kim hums playfully and you feel him tug at your body. "Let's look for something."

Your eyes are enraptured by the glass figures. They're so incredibly detailed and gorgeously cut. It's really a wonderful skill.

"She makes all of these?" you find yourself asking, your hand reaches for a figure but you back away quickly at the simple thought of breaking it.

"Oh, yeah. Mrs. Kim is an artist with this stuff. I made one once when I was younger. Come look." Pulling you down the long aisles, you reach a glass case at the back of the store.

"All of the kids in town could make one when they turned ten," his eyes glance over the figures before he's snapping his fingers and pointing. "That's mine," he says happily.

Your eyes narrow at the small figure and you tilt your head at it. You try to be polite, humming inquisitively as you stare.

"It's supposed to be a…" No words come to mind as you look at the jagged and misshapen pieces that are seemingly glued together.

"It's the Hulk," he says proudly and you nod slowly, your eyebrows furrowing.

"I… see," you murmur to yourself.

"I'm just kidding, this shit is ugly. I have no idea what the fuck I was making," he says and you elbow him in the ribs with a giggle as you stand up straight.

Looking up at him, it's almost as if you're noticing his eyes for the first time. Cinnamon colored irises with flecks of coffee that send a warmth spreading throughout your chest.

"Come on. My mom really likes snow globes," he says with a wink.

The selection of snow globes was actually surprising. The one that catches your attention first is a small boy standing on one leg as he skates around a pond. The town in the background is so tiny and for some reason it reminds you of the man standing beside you.

Without a second thought, you reach for it and you find Hoseok's hand on top of yours.

Pulling your hand away from the warmth of his, you find yourself smiling almost to an embarrassing state.

"Great minds think alike," he quips as he picks it up.

You snort gently, a breathy noise as he inspects the snow globe closer.

"Looks like me," he decided before pulling you towards the register.

"One Jung Hoseok looking snow globe to go please," he jokes as he pulls out his wallet.

"Hobi," you complain as you pull out yours.

Grabbing your wallet, he stuffs it into his back pocket before opening up his.

"It won't be my present if you pay for it!" you whine gently as he leans up against the counter.

"It's from the both of us," he says as he hands Mrs. Kim his credit card.

Rolling your eyes, you watch the small flecks of fake snow swirl around the snow globe. Maybe Christmas with Hobi isn't so bad.

It wasn't a long drive from Jeulgeoum to his family house. But, every inch closer you seemed to get, your nervousness was reaching an all level high.

What if his parents didn't like you? What if you were just intruding on their special holiday plans?

"Hey," Hoseok calls to you as he pulls off of the long road. Rows of houses begin to line the street and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Looking over at him, he slows down the car.

"You okay?" he asks, concerned.

"What? Yes. No, I'm fine," you say quickly and he can hardly believe you at this point.

"Whoa. Whoa," he pulls over the car before turning fully to you.

Your eyes focus on a blown up Santa that seems to sway in the chilly December breeze.

"You're going to have a lot of fun. Believe me, and I know you don't do fun. My parents are really, really nice people. You aren't intruding and you aren't unwelcome. I promise. You'll see," he says as he puts his hand on your knee.

You feel him squeeze gently and you find yourself calming down almost immediately.

"Okay," you whisper softly.

"Okay," he replies as he gives your knee one more squeeze.

Parking in front of his childhood home, you can see your friend relax. Almost as if he's been on a long journey and he's finally comfortable again.

The house is big, Christmas lights strung up from the gutters and down the columns that hold up the facade of the house.

"My mom always goes crazy with decorations," he says as he opens up the car door.

He's not wrong, a multitude of lit up statues litter the front lawn but they're all perfectly positioned.

Your favorite is the snowman standing right before the walkway.

Hoseok smirks to himself as he gathers your bags from the backseat.

"It's pretty," you find yourself saying as you climb out of the car.

Tugging your coat closer to your body, something about this feels sweet. Your parents were never that big into holidays and they always leapt at the chance to go somewhere warmer as soon as the temperature dropped.

You find yourself realizing that you've never really had a true Christmas. Or, one like the movies, anyway.

"Hold your snow globe," Hoseok calls to you as he puts the neatly wrapped package on the hood of the car.

You grab the package, holding on to it for dear life as he slings bags over his shoulders.

You didn't pack much but two bags is still a bit much to have on top of his own.

"I'll carry my bags," you tell him as you walk around the Hyundai.

He frowns as you hold your hand out.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he jeers and you shake your hand almost impatiently.

Rolling his eyes, he gives you your bags and he watches as you haul them over your shoulder.

"I can carry them, y'know. I'm not broken," he says as he walks by your side towards his house.

"I'm not broken either," you counter and he chuckles to himself.

Stepping in front of the snowman, he tugs off his scarf. He wraps the warm fabric around its neck before smirking.

"Now he's ready for Christmas." The act makes you smile and he winks at you as you walk up the long walkway towards the house.

You take large, deep breaths as shadows flit by the windows.

"Just enjoy yourself," Hoseok tells you as he jogs up the steps of the patio.

He checks on you once more, rubbing his hand over your arm before knocking on the door.

The sound frays your nerves as you clutch tighter onto the gift box in your hand.

You can hear animated talking behind the front door. As the door opens, you find yourself smiling as Hoseok throws his arms around who you assume is his mother.

"Merry Christmas!" he cries out happily and she replies with a giggle.

"Merry Christmas, my Seok," he chuckles as he squeezes her tight to his body.

Pulling away, her eyes find yours and the smile she gives is so like Hoseok's you suddenly feel comfortable. Running her fingers through her black bob cut, she looks you over before frowning.

"Yah. Why is she carrying her own bags?" his mother chides to her son.

He narrows his eyes at you playfully before folding his arms, "I told you, you got me in trouble."

With a smirk, you shrug to him.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N! We've heard so much about you! You're very welcome here," his mother says as she hugs you tightly.

It takes you a second, not quite used to parental affection, before you're hugging her back.

"Who's that?! My smelly brother?" you hear from inside and you giggle as Hoseok grimaces.

"Hi noona!" he calls loudly from the doorway.

"Come in, come in." his mom ushers you in and he holds his arm out for you to go in first.

How gentlemanly.

You can smell spices in the air, can hear animated talking and it feels strange to be in such a comforting atmosphere. You've never had this in your life.

"Thank you so much for letting me come, Mrs. Jung." you say softly as Hobi pulls the bags from your shoulder.

Taking off her apron, she clicks her teeth.

"Nonsense. We've heard all about you from Seok, it's like we know you already. And, please, call me Eunsook," she says as his father stands up from the couch.

You're used to sons shaking their fathers hands. Taehyung and Jimin do it on the regular so it's weird to see Hoseok hug his father so tightly.

"Welcome home, kid." he says before pulling away.

Mr. Jung looks over at you, a kind smile plastered on his face as he leans in for a hug.

"Welcome Y/N. Please, call me Baekgu," you nod as he pats your back gently.

"Thank you for being so welcoming," you whisper.

"Okay, let's not overwhelm her. It must be odd to be surrounded by new people. Why don't you both go upstairs and get comfortable. Then, when you come down maybe Y/N can help me make my sugar cookies." Hoseok was raised so well by his folks.

"I'd love that," you reply earnestly.

"Come on," Hoseok whispers in your ear.

Starting to pad up the carpeted steps, he turns his attention to his mother as she calls his name.

"You'll be sharing a room, hope you don't mind. The extra guest bedroom was converted to a home office," your eyes widen as you stare down at the carpet.

"Oh Jesus," you whisper fiercely to yourself.

Hoseok chuckles uncomfortably as he pulls the bags tighter to his shoulder.

His childhood bedroom is nothing like you thought it would be. Most kids, including yourself, had posters covering every inch of the walls but not his room. It's chic and stylish which isn't far off from how he is now.

You can hear gentle Christmas music wafting through the slightly cracked door as you look at his bed.

You've slept in the same room before while studying or if you all drank too much. But, you've never slept in the same bed as him. And, you've never been alone with each other.

"This'll be fun," he sounds confident and you're not sure if he's trying to mask nervousness with his tone.

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly as you sit on the edge of the bed.

You hear the bags thump onto the ground and you can hardly believe that you're here.

"They're nice, right?" Hobi asks as he shrugs off his coat.

"So nice, no wonder you grew up so well," you say, earning a smile from him.

"Get comfortable and then we'll head back downstairs. My mom must really like you, not even my sister gets to help her make sugar cookies," he calls as he enters the en suite bathroom.

Looking down at your knees, you find yourself smiling. How have you never noticed how precious he is before?

"Y/N! They're coming out perfectly!" Eunsook cheers delighted as she peeks into the oven.

She's so cheery, it's kind of amazing. Your eyes flit to the open living room watching as Hoseok sits beside his father watching Home Alone.

This is so… normal. So perfectly normal. You've never done this before with your parents. You've never felt 'at home' or comfortable around them and they gave birth to you.

"So Y/N," Dawon, Hoseok's sister, calls to you as she fills up your glass with more red wine, "Hoseok never shuts up about you."

"Noona!" Hoseok yells from the living room without even turning his head.

You smirk fondly as you lean down on the island counter.

"What does he say?" you find yourself whispering.

She tilts her head, fingers carding through her brown hair as she leans in. “Mostly how perfect you are.”

“Noona!” Hoseok yells once more and you find yourself smiling above the lip of your glass.

“Hobi is really great. I’m really lucky to have a friend like him,” you reply.

You feel a hand drift over your lower back as he walks into the room.

“Oh, Hobi is it?” Dawon jeers to him.

“Shut up,” he whispers in her ear through clenched teeth before opening up the fridge and grabbing a beer.

She holds her free hand up, a perfect smile plastered on to her face.

“Hoseok tells us all the time how happy he is to have found such a good friend. But, he never told us how gorgeous you are.” Eunsook says, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel that is over her shoulder.

“Yes I did,” he replies as he cracks open the bottle cap.

The warmth that radiates over your neck makes you clear your throat. He really has spoken about you to his family. It’s pretty special in your opinion. He could talk about so many other things but he chose to talk about you?

“When?” Dawon counters as she sits up on the barstool.

“All the time,” he mumbles as he throws the bottle cap into the garbage.

“All you told me was that Y/N was so beautiful and you’re so lucky that you get to spend time with her even when Taehyung and Jimin aren’t around,” your eyes find him as he pushes his sister with his shoulder like a warning.

“Yeah… Well… Dad? Did you call me?” he asks, craning his neck to the living room.

“No.” Baekgu calls back but you can hear the humor lacing his voice.

“Oh, that’s so weird. I thought you definitely called me,” Hoseok says, pushing off the kitchen island with widening eyes as he scurries back to the living room.

You find yourself chuckling at his antics and you watch as the legs of your thick red wine slowly make their way back down to the glass.

“Hoseok is amazing. You raised him so well,” you tell Eunsook as she pours herself a glass of wine.

She hums in agreement watching as Hoseok sits down beside his father. “Yes. He was always such a good boy. Hopefully he can find a girlfriend that appreciates him like we all do.”

You nod slowly and it’s the first time anyone around Hoseok mentions a girlfriend. You didn’t even think of that. But, just the notion makes you uncomfortable and you gulp a large mouthful of the red wine to steady yourself.

“You’d be a good girlfriend, of course.” Dawon says flippantly as she clutches the red wine to her chest.

“Noona!” you hear Hoseok scream and all three of you laugh gently as the timer dings signifying the cookies are done baking.

Sitting down at dinner, you find yourself staring into the pot of stew as the others talk around you. Why haven't you ever given much thought to Hobi who’s been by your side for so long now? Eunsook bringing up him getting a girlfriend earlier seemed so far beyond your imagination. But, you couldn’t even imagine him being in a relationship. You couldn’t imagine him not being with you or the other guys anymore. You couldn’t imagine him not being by your side.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Hoseok whispers in your ear.

“Huh?” you ask as you turn your head to him.

“Eat.” He murmurs with a smile, nodding his head to your bowl. You hum in response as you pick up your spoon.

You feel his knee press against your thigh and it’s become a constant that you welcome so dearly. It grounds you, in all honesty. Brings you back to reality.

“So, Y/N. Seok tells me that your parents went on vacation for Christmas.” Baekgu says as he sets down his spoon.

Clearing your throat, you look up at him. “Yeah. My parents don’t really like the cold or… festivities so they usually just go away for most major holidays.” You reply as you tuck into your stew.

Eunsook hums curiously and you know you should probably feel embarrassed but you’re already so comfortable here that it doesn’t seem to bother you as much.

“Well, you can come here for any holidays. If Hoseok starts coming without you then I’ll be very sad. You’re a great girl,” his mother says with a smile.

This is family. And, you can’t believe you’ve never really had one before.

Hoseok smirks down into his bowl before pouring you another glass of wine. “See. Told you,” he whispers in your ear.

By the end of the evening, you found yourself laughing loudly and listening attentively which is something that doesn’t come easily to you.

Hoseok probably has never heard you laugh so earnestly and the noise is just as gorgeous as you are.

Leaning back against the arm of the couch, he watches you as you listen to Dawon. God, you don’t even know how amazing you are. But, he does. He always has known. You were in every one of his classes and he found it so difficult to pay attention with you around him.

You were so opinionated. So smart. So beautiful. You were everything he loved and you couldn't even see it.

He smiles as you press your thigh against his knee. Even if he could only ever be your friend, he’d be okay with that because being around you was worth it all. Every single second.

“So Hoseok thinks it would be funny to throw my favorite doll out the window. So what do I do? I threw his action figures up onto the roof and he was crying for hours and hours until dad went up with a ladder to go grab them.” Dawon says animatedly and you giggle along with Eunsook as she tells the story.

Turning your head to Hobi, you find he’s already staring at you. His cinnamon irises are alight with warmth and joy. It makes something bloom inside of you, something so precious and perfect.

“She’s missing out on the detail where I threw her doll out the window because she tripped me up the stairs,” he mumbles as he brings his beer bottle to his lips.

"It was an accident!" she counters from underneath the Christmas tree.

"I was five. Nothing was an accident back then," he chuckles as you giggle, leaning back into the comfort of the couch.

"Yeah, well I was nine and it was an accident."

You hear them continue to bicker as you stare at the fireplace. The embers burn hot, rising high into the air. You watch the logs crackle, small veins burning bright oranges and reds. Feeling Hoseok's hand absentmindedly pressing to your back, you tilt your head to the lip of the couch.

You wouldn't want him to get a girlfriend. You wouldn't want to be without him.

He takes away all your loneliness and your pain. He makes you smile and he makes you happy. He makes you think that just being in his presence, it's like being with someone that's your own.

"Let's go up to bed," he whispers in your ear.

You force yourself to sit up, eyes ripping away from the fire.

"Good night," you tell his parents and they reply with the same.

"Use prot-" Dawon's voice is cut off by Hoseok as he follows you to the stairs.

"Noona!" he calls quickly, narrowing his eyes at her as she giggles.

"My sister can be annoying sometimes. I'm sorry," he says as he closes the bedroom door behind you both.

You smile fondly as you sit down on the bed. "I really like your sister. She's incredible."

He hums with a chuckle as he takes off his shirt.

"Yeah. Okay," he quips back.

Your eyes rake over his toned upper body. The way his abs press against his golden skin has you averting your eyes so quickly. Suddenly, it feels like it's a thousand degrees in here.

"Why'd you invite me?" you find yourself asking as he throws on an oversized t-shirt.

Stopping in his tracks to the bathroom, he turns on one heel to look at you.

"Because you deserve to be with loving people for the holidays or just in general, really," he answers you with a raised eyebrow.

"So you were taking pity on me? I'm a charity case," you whisper.

Maybe it's all the wine or maybe it's just how insecure you truly are but this is coming out of nowhere and you can't stop it.

"What? No. Of course I'm not taking pity on you. I wanted to spend Christmas with you," he replies, confused.

"Really? Because it feels like maybe you're just entertaining me because I had nowhere to go. Maybe you should have brought a girlfriend or something!"

Ah, there it is. It's jealousy. The combination of jealousy and wine is not a fearsome friend to you, apparently.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asks, appalled as he leans against the door frame of his bathroom.

"You should have brought Hana or Jaeeun with you, they like you and want to be your girlfriend," you say as your toes dig into the carpeting beneath you.

He scoffs loudly, his head lolling back at the simple mention of the other girls.

"I don't want Hana or Jaeeun to meet my fucking parents! I wanted you to meet my parents!" he counters as he walks towards you.

"Why me? So I could see what I'm missing in my own family?!" you ask, standing up.

"No! I wanted you to meet my family because I fucking love you!" he yells as he steps in front of you.

Oh.

You blink slowly at his confession. The only sound in the room is his ragged breathing and you stare at his neck as it begins to flush pink.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles, his fingers carding through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

He goes to walk away but you grab onto his shirt to keep him in front of you.

"You love me?" you ask softly, almost as if you can't believe what you've heard.

"Yeah. Of course I fucking do. Don't be ridiculous. I've always loved you, since Advanced Science in freshman year. I was so pissed when Jaemin asked you out before I could. And then I was even more pissed when that son of bitch cheated on you. Because you don't deserve that. You deserve everything. And even if I'm just your friend, I still try to give it to you," his admission is like a loaded hand grenade that's been thrown at your feet.

"Hobi," you whisper and he runs his hands over his face.

"I don't want your pity or whatever it is you think you're going to give me," he mumbles as his eyes flutter shut.

Looking up at his face, you watch his perfectly shaped lips part for breath. You've always been so dense to not realize it. Everything that he does when you're together, it's all for you. It's all to make you smile. To make you happy.

Standing up on the tips of your toes, you press your lips to his. He shudders against your lips, eyes widening for a second before cupping the sides of your head.

He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss as his thumbs graze over the apples of your cheeks.

With a gentle sigh, you feel your body relax and melt against his.

He's always been for you. Even if it's taken you this long to understand.

"Y/N." Hobi whispers against your lips confused but you silence him again with another kiss.

He moans against your lips gently, pushing you down into the bed as his fingers intertwined into your hair.

"What are you telling me?" he asks as you run your hand over his arms.

"That I'm yours," you reply.

That was the first holiday he brought love into your heart.

Every holiday afterwards was just as perfect.

He kept up stupid traditions that were so corny that you couldn't help but love. Even making Arbor day special. Yeah. Arbor day. He bought a sapling just for you both to plant on the campus before you graduated so there was always something blooming from where you first met.

He's lovesick and adoring. And, he's all yours.

You loved spending Christmas and Chuseok with him. You've grown to love his family like your own and even five years later nothing has changed. He was so perfectly yours every second of the day.

"Baby girl," you hear from the bedroom. Your head turns to your husband's voice and you smile at how whiney he sounds.

"What's wrong?" you ask as you get up from the couch.

"What sounds better, deck my balls or stop staring at my presents?" Hoseok asks as he holds up two of his ugly Christmas sweaters.

You grimace, leaning against the doorjamb as he smiles widely.

"You are not wearing those to the cabin," you tell him.

With a pout, he tosses the sweaters onto your bed. "And, why not? They're festive."

"They're an abomination. If you wear those sweaters, I'm not sucking your dick until the New Year," you retort as he wraps his arms around you.

"No ugly sweaters. Got it. Yes, ma'am," he mumbles as he leans down to kiss you. Giggling into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I feel bad that we aren't going to your parents this year," you whisper against him and he wrinkles his nose cutely at your words.

"Well, we should have a Christmas all to ourselves sometimes too, baby. We're married now, we have to make traditions for ourselves too," you hum in agreement as he hugs you tightly.

"Can I bring the 'it's not going to lick itself' candy cane shirt?" he asks with a gorgeous smile.

"I will hit you," you threaten as he pulls away.

Holding up his hands, he chuckles to himself before going back to packing your bags.

The journey up to the cabin is peaceful. You stare at the snow covered limbs on the trees as you continue to drive down the long road.

You feel Hobi squeeze your hand and your eyes are on him in seconds.

"I love spending the holidays with you," he says, bringing your hand up to his lips.

With a smile, you angle your body closer to his upon instinct.

"I kind of really love you," you tell him as he looks over at you.

"Such a weird coincidence. I was thinking I kind of loved you too," he jokes as he looks back at the road.

Pulling up to the cabin, you take in the absolute splendor of it. It's so simplistic and so welcoming. Icicles and snow dot the edges of the awning. You breathe a happy sigh, your breath fogging up in front of you signifying just how cold it is.

Pulling your coat tighter to your body, you watch the man you love gather the multitude of bags from the back of the car.

"Let me help you," you insist as you walk around the car.

"Back off, woman. This is your man's job to do.” Rolling your eyes, you fold your arms as he drapes bag strap after bag strap over his upper body.

"Carry this," he says, handing you a bag of groceries.

You feel the light weight of it before peeking inside.

"This just has bread in it," you say confused.

"Exactly. You hold the bread," he says finitely before slamming the trunk down.

Tossing you the keys to the cabin, he looks up at the wooden house before smiling.

"This is perfect," he whispers to himself.

"Fuck, it's cold." You complain as you enter the cabin. The wooden boards creak under your feet as you step inside. It's so homey in here. So completely domestic.

"Can you put the groceries away while I light a fire?" Hoseok asks you sweetly.

You nod with a giddy smile as he throws your bags down on the large bed.

The fake Christmas tree is kind of adorable with lights strung up in the corner as well as all of the gingham patterns that surround you.

"How do I light this?" Hoseok calls and you snort gently as you start unpacking the groceries.

"With gasoline?" you ask confused, tossing stuff into the fridge.

"You want me to blow up the cabin? I got a renter's fee,” he asks appalled and you shrug with a chuckle.

You watch him as he crouches before the fireplace, how breathtaking he is. You can feel your stomach flipping and coiling with each passing second as you stare.

You were his and he is yours.

When he turns to you and he gives you a smile, you can see the small dimple below his bottom lip that sends a smile spreading over your own face.

He's always had the most gorgeous bone structure. His cheekbones are so high and the apples of his cheeks are so plump in all the right ways.

You find yourself leaning down on the counter with your elbows as your fists tuck beneath your chin.

"Hey!" he cheers as the wood catches on fire.

You giggle, watching as he thrusts his hand in the air.

Shrugging off his coat, he stands up tall. His body proportions are so astounding.

Finally, his eyes meet yours and he tilts his head to you. His eyes flutter shut as he gives you a wide smile.

"You're such a bad worker," he jeers as he walks toward you.

You hum in agreement as you stand back up.

He helps you toss the rest of your groceries into the fridge before wrapping his arms around your waist as you slam the refrigerator closed.

"This is perfect," he whispers in your ear, pressing his chest to your back.

With a smirk, you look around the cabin and you find it hard to disagree.

"Everything with you is perfect," you reply as he squeezes you tight.

"Now you're just saying that to flatter me," he jokes into your ear.

Cuddling up on the sofa, you lay your head on his shoulder as you watch Home Alone. It's a Christmas tradition for Hobi you've come to love. He's watched it every year since he was six.

"They've got good reception up here," he announces as you sip your wine.

"Yeah, they d-" Fatal last words as the electricity cuts out.

Hoseok sits up as the cabin creaks loudly with the sounds of harsh blowing winds.

His head turns to the window and you crawl off of him.

"Oh no," he mumbles, walking towards the windows.

Pulling back the curtains, you watch as large snowflakes fall onto the ground.

"It's a blizzard," he tells you with a wince.

Standing up, you sip your wine as you walk to his side.

The snow is piling up generously and you have a dull, nervous feeling aching throughout your chest.

Your husband gets to work, lighting candles around the cabin like it's his job.

"This is what happens when we don't go to your parents’ house," you sing as you help him light a few candles.

"This is going to ruin my plans," he grumbles to himself before throwing another log into the fire.

Opening the front door to the cabin, you can feel the harsh chill as it whips around outside.

"Oh Hoseok!" you call to him and he turns to the doorway before sighing gently.

There's a wall of snow built up at the door and it looks like you would not be going anywhere for awhile.

"We're snowed in," he mutters before running his fingers through his hair.

You decide to close the door as another breeze bursts through. Turning to your husband, you watch as he picks at some skin on his lip.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," you can hear the sadness enrapturing his voice and it's jarring.

It's rare to ever hear him sad. You don't like it.

"It's okay. We can just lay down and cuddle," you say, setting down your glass of wine on the counter.

You open up your arms to him, wanting a hug and wanting to give him some peace of mind.

He pulls you in, cradling your head to his chest with his hand as he looks around the dim cabin.

"I had plans for us. To go out and build a snowman. To go into town tomorrow and watch the caroling," he murmurs, dejectedly.

You hum as you pull him over to the large bed. "Christmas with you is perfect just on it's own. I don't need all those things to be happy. I have you."

It astounds him sometimes how much you've broken out of your shell.

He pulls back the gingham comforter, letting you crawl into bed first. And then, he's quick to crawl in behind you.

His arm wraps around your waist as he presses his chest flush to your back.

Your fingers begin to play with his, staring at the olden looking paintings that line the walls.

"I can remember the first time I ever saw you," Hoseok whispers in your ear as he cuddles closer to you.

A smirk begins to spread on your face as he kisses the shell of your ear.

"It was in Biology. You were wearing a black hoodie and those black skinny jeans. You didn't have a backpack and you didn't even have a pen. You flipped your notebook open and just fell asleep," you giggle at his words, hearing his smile widen with each word he says.

"I did like to sleep in Biology," you quip.

"But, you always passed the class. You never got lower than a ninety on a test. I was jealous, I used to think to myself, 'Damn. This woman is so fucking smart.' Then I saw you in Advanced Science. That's where you really paid attention. You used to twirl your hair and your finger when you were thinking hard about something," you hum as your eyes flutter shut.

The warmth of his breath spreads over your neck as he buries his face.

"I told Taehyung the first day I saw you without even knowing you were his best friend, 'I'm gonna marry that woman. I'm gonna have kids with her.' I was so… enraptured by you," he breathes out as his hand splays over your stomach.

You can only smile as he presses his hips harder to your backside.

"I was so fucking angry when that guy broke your heart… I can't even remember his name anymore but, I can remember how hurt you were. How broken you were and you didn't deserve it in the least. I wanted to fucking kill him," his hand begins to trail below the hem of your shirt and you shiver at how chilly his skin is.

"I was so fucking happy when you were coming home with me for Christmas our first year. You were so nervous. But, I knew you would love my family and that they would love you. I used to talk about you all the time. My mom would ask me how school was and my first thought would be to tell her how much fun I had with you during a study session or something," your eyes flutter shut as his hand ascends.

"Sounds like you were too busy paying attention to girls than to focus on school," you joke breathlessly as you press your ass against his crotch.

You can hear him moan gently against your ear, his perfect teeth graze your lobe and your lips press into a straight line.

"Then you got into that fight with me in my bedroom. Telling me to take other girls home with me for the holidays. I was so angry that you would even insinuate something like that. And then… then you kissed me. And, I melted. Like snow on the first day of spring," he nibbles on your lobe, his growing erection digging into the globe of your ass.

You moan gently as you feel him grow hard behind you. Your stomach begins to flare with desire. Loins curling with aching need.

"I remember the first time I ever touched your body. You were wearing a blood red thong. Your skin was so flushed for me. Begging me to touch you," his breath is heavier now and you can hear him groan wantonly at the memory.

His hand cups your breast, squeezing gently as he kisses over your shoulder.

"You were so hard," you reply as he presses his now fully hardened erection between your ass cheeks.

"You always make me so fucking hard," he retorts as his free hand pulls yours to his crotch.

"Oh," you whisper breathlessly as he ruts against your palm.

You can feel the thin fabric of his pajamas becoming wet and sticky with precum. Rolling his tongue over your neck, he flips you onto your back.

In the fireplace glow, you watch his black hair fall into his eyes. His pupils blown out with lust, the cinnamon irises you love so deeply growing smaller by the second.

His perfect lips part and his eyes fall to your lips. They linger for a second before he's kissing you passionately.

The tip of his tongue licks over the seam of your lips and you part for him with a whine. His hand grips your breast harder, groaning long and low into the kiss as his tongue runs over yours.

Your hips buck up, your arousal starting to seep from you. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing, begging to be filled by your husband.

He pulls away for only a second, taking off his shirt with hurried hands before he's kissing you once more.

Your fingers graze over his golden skin, the feeling producing goosebumps on his body.

You can remember how gorgeous his chest was when you were in his childhood bedroom that first Christmas. How his abs pressed and flexed beneath his skin. Nothing has changed.

Running your fingertips over the plains of his stomach, he gasps into your mouth gently, a carnal needy sound that sends you whimpering below him.

"Oh fuck," he whispers through gritted teeth.

You can smell his gentle cologne as his lips drift over your jawline. He smells of alderwood and citrus. The scent is so wholly him and so perfect.

"Get this off," you hear him command in your ear as he tugs on your tank top.

With a whimper, you sit up on your elbows discarding the fabric and his eyes harden at the state of you beneath him.

"Fuck," he curses before his lips are back on your skin.

Your legs part for him as he situates himself between them. His hands reach behind your back as he kisses down the column of your neck, slowly pulling down your bra straps.

He leaves his marks, pretty red and pink patches that signify you as his.

"I want everything with you. I want it all," he whispers against your collarbone.

"You have me," you reply as you card your fingers through his hair.

"I want to have a baby," he says as he pulls away from your skin.

Your heart begins to thud faster in the recesses of your chest. You've mentioned it in passing, you've commented on it in short spurts but you've never talked about it.

If it just happened, it happened. But, to hear him say it. For those words to pass his lips, you can feel yourself almost becoming euphoric.

"I want you to have my baby inside of you. Want to feel my baby growing in your belly," his voice is almost a plea and your hips lift at the needy sound.

"Yes," you reply.

His lips are on your fiercely once more, kissing your lips red and raw as he tugs off your bra with feral desire.

His hands palm your breasts, thumbs lovingly swiping over your hardening nipples. Gasping into his mouth, he swallows the sound.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and you can feel his erection throbbing with desire against your clothed thigh.

"God, you're so beautiful, sweetheart," he sounds almost drunk off of his desires and you lick your reddened lips as he lowers his head.

His tongue runs circles over your nipple, your back arches with a moan and he wastes no time sliding his hand beneath your back to hold you up against him.

His lips pluck at your nipple, free hand pinching and rolling the other dexterously between his fingertips.

You feel almost crazy from his love. You can feel the desire pumping through your veins like each and every time before.

"Hobi!" you whimper out as your head lolls back.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers above your breast before showing the same treatment to the other.

You feel so hyper aware, especially when his hand glides over your stomach and downward. He pulls at the hem of your leggings, letting the fabric slap back to your skin with a gentle sting. You gasp with anticipation, your hips wiggling at the simple thought of being naked before him.

"Behave, sweetheart," he reminds you and you bite your lower lip, raising your hips patiently.

He kisses over the skin of your stomach, fingers enmeshing in the sides of your leggings and underwear before tugging roughly.

Strings of arousal break and cling to your thighs and your sodden lower lips.

"There she is," he mumbles, throwing your pants over your shoulder flippantly.

His back bows down, arms looping over your thighs locking you in place.

Licking his lips, he looks over your body like you're a meal. Your skin is flushed with wanting and your pussy begins to weep at the sight of him between your thighs.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he asks rhetorically, just to hear the words fall from your lips.

You open your mouth to reply but it isn't fast enough for his liking, slapping the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. You mewl loudly, back bowing off the bed as you spread your legs wider.

"I want you to eat my pussy. It hurts," you whine, nestling your fingers in his hair.

He hums gently, watching your breath hitch in your throat. He gives you a smirk, one that sends your sex weeping more for him.

He rears his head back, his index and middle finger splaying open your lips with a V motion.

"Your little clit is so swollen, baby. You want me to touch you?" he teases and you nod enthusiastically as you grip his hair harder.

He groans softly at the feeling, his eyes on your breasts as he spits on your sodden cunt.

You shiver at the feeling, lips parting for air as he watches his spittle mix with your arousal.

"God, you're fucking soaked," his voice is that of wonder. You sink down into the bed as he licks a flat stripe up your swollen cunt.

Whimpering his name, your eyes flutter shut.

"Open your eyes. Watch me eat your pretty pussy so well," he commands.

With opening eyes, you moan loudly as he begins to ravage you. His tongue is so fast against your cunt, flicking and pressing into your swollen clit.

"H-Hobi! Fuck!" you cry out as your legs try to press to either side of his head.

His biceps ripple and strain as he holds you apart, suckling and flicking at your bundle of nerves. You find yourself babbling almost incoherently, begging for more as your hips raise.

"Filthy little thing," he whispers against your cunt, his hand leaves your thigh to finger at your tight entrance.

He teases you for what feels like an eternity before thrusting a finger inside of you.

"So tight," he sounds breathless, his cheeks and lips tainted with your arousal.

The sight is almost a visual overload, your hips buck and a loud whine emits from you as you look down at him.

Curling his finger up, he watches how blissed out you are before him. His cock strains against the fabric of his pajamas and he moans softly against your throbbing bud.

"Tell me how much you want my baby," he commands before spitting on your twitching sex.

You can feel your insides bubbling, your stomach flipping and feeling heavy within you as your orgasm approaches.

With a muddled mind and hoarse voice you reply, "S-So badly. Want to have your baby so badly, H-Hobi. I want to give you a baby."

Pleased with your answer, he slides a second finger into your heat. His fingers brush against the soft patch of nerves within you so fast, you feel the air escaping your lungs at a rapid pace.

"You beg to cum for me, sweetheart. Don't forget that. I own this pussy," he reminds you as he pinches your clit.

He watches your hips roll, he hears his name tumble out of your lips like a prayer and he knows just how close to release you are.

When you give him your pleasure, it's like art. So beautiful and so defined.

"Who does this pussy belong to?"

"Y-You! Only you!" you whine as your eyes squeeze shut.

You can feel the pleasure course through your bones. You can feel your mouth going dry as the bubble inside of you threatens to burst.

"Wanna cum! Please! So close!" you beg as you grip his hair harder.

He can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers rhythmically, begging to release.

"Hold it," he instructs as he pinches your clit once more.

Shaking your head, pleasurable tears spring to your eyes. "Want to cum so badly for you. Want to have my pussy open for your cock and cum."

He shivers at your words, tongue lapping at your arousal like a man starved.

"Hobi… Baby, please! I need to cum!" you beg your husband as he adds a third finger.

He watches your chest heave, your breasts thrust up to the sky with stiff peaked nipples that beg for attention. Was there anyone more gorgeous? He can't possibly think so.

"Cum," he commands and you fall back down to the bed.

You orgasm around his fingers, your moans echo off of the cabin walls as you call his name.

With spotty eyes and deaf ears, you can feel him pull out of you.

You feel drunk from pleasure, your head swimming. Hoseok wipes the tears off your cheeks, entering his cum soaked fingers into his mouth.

He moans at your taste, licking up every drop of arousal he can get.

"Shit, you taste so fucking good," he whispers.

Sitting up on your elbows, you focus on his crotch. His fingers hook into the sides of his pants before tugging them down roughly.

His cock slaps headily to his stomach and you lick your lips at the sight.

Long and thick, his cock stands erect. It's always a welcome sight to see. The way his rose veins pepper the length and the way his bulbous head is a needy shade of pink.

Your mouth waters as the seam of his cock begins to spurt more precum. You watch it traipse down lazily towards his balls with rapt fascination.

"Come here," he whispers softly, sitting back on the balls of his feet.

His hands palm your breasts, fingertips plucking at your nipples as you kiss over his chest.

He sighs so gently, almost in disbelief that you're still in front of him naked five years later.

"I can't wait till your tits swell with milk. I want to taste it," he sounds so hopeful, so absolutely enraptured in his dream.

As you lick over his abs, he takes in a sharp breath through his teeth. His eyes rolling back as he palms your breasts rougher.

"Y/N," he moans softly and you practically mewl at the sound.

You take his cock in hand, feeling it twitch with need. He groans loudly as you begin to pump along his shaft, feeling his velvety smooth skin quiver with wanting.

Hoseok grips your hair, making a make-shift ponytail for you before running his thumb over your cheekbone.

"I love you," his words are so sincere, dripping with ardent desire.

"I love you too," you reply.

Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, you moan at the taste of his precum. You can feel his shudder above you, gripping your hair harder. Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he whimpers as you slide down his shaft.

Your cheeks hollow and your hand jerks whatever doesn't fit into your mouth, sending your husband above you murmuring your name incessantly.

"Oh shit. Just like that. Your mouth feels so fucking good. Christ," he cries out as you work assiduously on his cock.

His ragged breathing sends your loins unfurling once more, begging to be touched by the man you call your own.

"Can I fuck your pretty mouth? Please," you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering shut as he wraps his hand around your head.

The first thrust is gentle, trying to pry open your throat for him. You sputter gently on him, eyes welling up with tears as you grip his thighs.

"Fuck, you look so hot. I love fucking my cock into your mouth," his thumb brushes away a tear as it trails down your cheek.

His thrusts begin to get rougher, his moans become louder. Lapping your tongue along the base of him, you feel your heart swell every time he moans or curses above you.

"Wait until your belly gets nice and big. I'm gonna use you like a little cocksleeve. Bet you'd like that wouldn't you, sweetheart? Me gripping your belly while you take my cock deep into your throat," you moan around him, excited by the idea. The vibrations your moans shoot through him makes his cock twitch in the recesses of your mouth.

"Stop, sweetheart, stop." he instructs as he tugs your hair gently.

Pulling away from him, you raise an eyebrow.

"Was it not okay?" you ask softly.

He shushes you with his lips, arms coddling around you to lay you down.

"It was perfect. I'm saving my cum for your pussy."

Spreading your legs wider with his knees, he kisses you so passionately you think your heart might have stopped.

"Shit," he whispers against your lips.

Prodding the tip of his cock to your entrance, he simply loses himself in your presence.

How long and often he's adored you before you even knew. How lucky he is to have you now.

Entering you slowly, your mouth drops open at how completely full you feel. He grunts gently at the feeling of your velvet walls around him. He kisses you leisurely, taking his time to shower you in pleasure.

Drifting his hand over your womb, he moans your name.

"Fuck baby, look at how tight your pussy is. I can see how big my cock is," he says, drawing your attention to where you're met. You can see the outline of his cock clearly within you and it sets your loins ablaze.

He groans when your cunt throbs around him, "You're going to take my baby, aren't you, sweetheart? Get nice and pregnant for me?"

You nod incessantly as he sits up on his knees. Pulling almost all the way out of you, he slaps your clit with his fingers. Raising an eyebrow, he looks you in the eye.

"Words, sweetheart. You know this," he chides as you squirm on his cock.

"Y-Yes. I'm going to take your cum and get pregnant for you. Get really big with your baby."

Pleased with your words, he thrusts deep inside of you.

Your legs hook around his hips, moaning his name like a prayer as he begins an unrelenting pace.

"Fuck, you're so tight! Shit!" he cries out.

You can feel the emotional pull then, this sexual encounter has so much meaning. Making love to Hoseok was always special but the intent behind this experience is overwhelming.

"God, you're so incredible. Who does this pussy belong to?" he asks, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust.

Hooking your ankles over his shoulders, you preen loudly as each thrust hits the soft spot within you.

"You do! You own my pussy! It's all yours!" you cry out as you grip the bedsheets on either side of you.

"That's fucking right I do," he seethes through his teeth.

The sound of wild winds hitting the cabin walls is drowned out by the fiercely pornographic moaning and obscene squelching of your cunt getting fucked,

Your husband presses one hand to your womb, letting the full feeling of his cock inside overwhelm you, and the other situated at the apex of your thighs. He rubs quick, rough circles to your clit, adoring how high and short your moans are getting.

Your cunt flutters around him, sending his eyes rolling back once more as he fucks you faster.

"Beg for it," he reminds you, a breathy moan attached to the end as his head lolls back.

He knows you so well, he can practically sense what's next.

"P-Please!" you moan feebly, your knuckles go white as your pleasure courses through you.

"That's my good girl. Fuck, you look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart. You look so gorgeous when you're about to burst," you gasp gently, the bubble inside of you expanding to the point of popping.

"Hobi, pl-please!" you beg, letting go of the sheets to grab his arms.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, show me how badly you want my child," he concedes as his balls begin to tighten.

Your eyes scrunch closed as you orgasm the second time, you can faintly feel your arousal squirting onto his cock and thighs.

"Shit. That's so hot, good girl, sweetheart," he moans, letting up on his thrusts before pulling out.

You whine at the loss. Eyes opening, albeit they're heavy with drunken lust.

"Turn over for me," your husband whispers in your ear, staving off his oncoming orgasm by kissing and suckling the skin of your neck.

With a gentle sigh, you turn over for him. Perching your ass in the air, you bury your face into the pillow.

"God, I'm so fucking lucky," Hobi says as his fingertips drift over your swollen cunt.

Gripping your hips roughly, he pulls you back to his cock without another word.

Spanking your ass hard, you can barely let out a gasp as he sinks back into your heat.

He curses loudly, rubbing the now smarting skin on the globe of your ass.

He doesn't relent as he pulls you back onto his cock. His hand reaches from your ass to the back of your neck before he's gripping with fervent need.

"God, fuck!" he curses through his teeth.

You can only feebly whimper his name into the pillow.

"You're gonna cum again for me," he insists, snaking his hand around your thigh.

"No, Hobi. It's too much!" you cry out.

"You can take it, sweetheart," he whispers and you gasp gently at the feeling of his cock throbbing so quickly inside of you.

"I can't wait until your belly is nice and big. Let everyone know I fucked my baby into you. You're gonna look so fucking gorgeous with a big belly and those pretty milk filled tits," murmuring his name incessantly, you lift your head as he rubs circles on your clit.

Looking behind you, you take in the beauty that is your husband. A thin sheen of sweat is on his body, his sideburns and bangs are stuck to his face as he fucks you for all your worth.

His eyes meet yours and your pussy clenches around his cock at the sight. With half lidded eyes, he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Hobi," you whine, tears of pleasure filling your vision as he brings you closer to your third orgasm.

"That's it, sweetheart. Say my fucking name," his hand grips harder at the back of your neck.

"Come here," he groans out, lifting your body to press flush to his chest.

Pressing his hand softly to your throat, his thumb pushes your chin towards him. Kissing you fast and rough, he groans into your mouth.

"Cum," he commands and you fall apart as his will.

His arms encircle you, keeping you upright as he fucks into you.

"Oh, baby. I'm cumming! Fuck! I'm cumming! Take it deep. Give me a baby," you hear him moan loudly in your ear. He presses his forehead to your temple, his thrusts becoming erratic and slow.

He whispers your name once more before he stills within you, finally.

You can feel the warmth of his cum rush into you as he fucks rope after rope inside.

"Oh my God," he grumbles breathlessly.

He pulls you down with him onto the bed and you can't keep yourself from giggling as he holds you so tight.

The sound of the wind is the only thing that draws both of you back to reality.

"I hope we get pregnant," he whispers into your neck.

Humming in agreement, you look out the window as snow continues to fall.

"Me too," you reply truthfully.

His fingers trace undefinable shapes on your stomach as he kisses your shoulder.

"As nice as this is maybe next year we should just go to my parents," he says with a chuckle.

Laughing along with him, you turn your body.

"Maybe that would be best," you say, jutting your thumb towards the snow covered window.

"But, hopefully we'll have a baby to bring with us next year," you can hear the hopefulness in his tone.

You can see his excitement in his tired eyes.

Christmas with Hoseok really isn't so bad.

Snowed In Taglist- @sunkissed725

#snowed in #christmas collab #rockin' around the christmas tropes #ficswithluv #thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #btswritingcafe #hoseok smut #best friends to lovers #impreg kink #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n

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personasintro · 4 years

Text

sucker (m.) | pjm

❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

❥𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, angst, vampire au, horror au (?), vampire!jimin x human!reader, supernatural au

❥𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language, smut; slight biting, oral sex [man receiving], fingering, penetration, unprotected & rough sex, slight dom!jimin, death & mentions of death, blood, mentions of alcohol

❥𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10.9k+

𝒂/𝒏: I got this story idea after halloween and this is the first time I've written a vampire au, so I really hope you'll like it, this is something new for me but was so much fun to write!! banner by @dee-ehn (thank you luv, you did an amazing job!!)

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

Frat parties aren’t usually Jimin’s go-to place but considering the sudden circumstances, he had to agree and couldn't say no to his friend who had chosen the most overcrowded party. In other cases, Jimin would’ve chosen somewhere less crowded but enough to blend with his surroundings. Although, Taehyung deserves a few points for thinking this out considering today’s theme is Halloween. There’s no need to hide anything, especially their appearance that still doesn’t seem as weird as people dressed as pumpkin and other weird costumes. Just as a young male passes by, obviously dressed as Dracula while wearing a cheap cape, his friend snorts under his breath but Jimin can hear him perfectly.

“Horrendous,” Taehyung comments, scoffing at the guy that’s too preoccupied with a girl clinging to his side dressed as something both of them can’t recognize. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.” he grins, licking his bottom lip before they make their way into the huge house full of drunk people.

It’ll be hard to find someone sober or not drunk enough, Jimin thinks while his eyes scan the entire room.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung slaps his hands over Jimin’s shoulders while he clutches them but his friend barely reacts, already used to Taehyung's rough hands and strength. “Try to have fun.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, still looking around to map out the whole room almost as if he’s waiting for something to happen. He knows nothing will, none of these people are ready for tonight and are completely clueless. Sometimes, he wonders how it’d feel like to just let loose and drink alcohol like every other person here. Loud rap music boosts against the walls, barely good enough music to dance to, but it seems nobody cares about that and dance no matter how ridiculous they look. A group of young girls pass by them, one in particular eyeing Taehyung as she winks at him, giving him a hint that even she doesn’t know about.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Taehyung grins, slapping Jimin’s shoulder with enthusiasm from receiving attention even though he barely came in. “Two hours?” he asks, slowly backing away from Jimin’s figure who responds with a short but firm nod.

Sighing, with Taehyung no longer in sight, he forces his legs to move through the crowd which is just bunch of drunk college students. It’s hard to blend, especially if he’s the only one sober out of everyone. He walks through the house, not particularly knowing where he’s going since he has no idea where he is. This is his first time here — probably last too. They never come back, not even once. They always just move on and plan things together, with Taehyung. Somehow, his legs lead him to a kitchen, less preoccupied room with an exception since there are still some people sucking their mouths off. Jimin’s nose scrunches in a slight disgust at the smell of alcohol, knowing that it’s just the picky side of him.

Taehyung had been in charge of tonight’s plans, it makes sense this plan sucks. Jimin doesn’t like it here but it’ll have to do. His sharp eyes dance across the room, nose softly sniffling as a sweet scent fills it and then he sees something. Something that looks much more interesting than anything he could’ve seen here so far.

You.

In other scenarios, you’d probably spend your Friday night differently than in a frat house full of people you don’t know. That wouldn’t even be such a bad thing, if your friend didn’t bail on you because her ex wanted to talk. You’re not mad, you’re just annoyed that you’ve been standing here for the past fifteen minutes watching couples make out, while third guy tried flirt with you. May you add, completely wasted where you could smell the alcohol on their breath. That’s enough to make you not interested and disgusted at the same time. When another guy dressed like Joker tries to talk to you, you ignore him and tell him to fuck off. You’re not rude, not all the time. But it’s only natural of you to act this way, especially when you let them know you’re not interested and they still keep trying. It’s like it pushes them to be even more eager to try to win you over. Well, you’re not some trophy and drunk enough to do that.

The guy gives you an ugly frown, visibly displeased by your choice of words but luckily he leaves you alone and your heart slowly calms down. You don’t know what drunk men are capable of, but you get the idea. You need to be careful either way. Not drinking any drink from strangers and not provoke anyone who's drunk, even if it’s standing up for yourself. Those are the rules you need to keep reminding yourself, especially in this place where alcohol clouds most people's judgement and mind.

Ah fuck, tonight is supposed to be fun.

“Playing hard to get?”

Your head whips at the soft voice, completely contrasting with the awful music and people’s chattering drunken nonsense. Mouth opening in a mere shock, you’re met with a guy you’ve never seen before which isn’t that weird since you barely know anyone here. But you’d surely remember him, if you ever met him. It’s safe to say, he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen and looked your way. His blond hair is parted in the middle, swiped back as this particular hairstyle shows his sharp jaw but soft features. One of the most eye catching features are those thick lips, looking juicy and soft, like two pillows and the most delicious desert. And you can’t fucking believe you’re gushing over some stranger but you’re surely not done yet. His eyes are sharp and there’s a weird glint in them, maybe it's because of the orangey–red shade they hold. Black leather jacket hugs his frame along with, what seems like a casual white shirt underneath, and a great fit black jeans. You wonder what kind of mask he’s wearing, but then he grins at you and shows you his white teeth. Two sharp fangs poke his bottom lip, making you almost jump in surprise but you sigh in relief.

He seems to know you were just checking him out, judging by the slight smirk he’s trying to hide while he makes his way over to you.

“Just not interested.” you reply, deciding it’s better to find your own voice rather than to gawk at this sex god.

“I don’t blame you,” he speaks, your eyes flickering to his. There’s something that makes your heart skip a beat, maybe it’s his alluring eyes that seems to know everything. As if he could tell you’re mentally screaming at his hotness. “Young guys can be... very persistent and act upon their hormones.”

You snort, placing a hand over your mouth as you start giggling at his choice of words. “You can say it. They’re just horny and looking for sex.”

He smiles, tracing a tongue over his lower lip as his steps come to a halt just a few inches before you. He looks even more heartbreaking from up close. The lightning is shitty but there’s not an inch of flaw on his soft glass skin, he looks slightly more on the pale side, but that has to be the make up. At least he hadn’t overdid it like you’ve seen some other guys. And those eyes... what kind of lenses are they?

“You’re right, they can be like that.” he agrees, still sporting that secretive smirk adorning both his eyes and lips.

You snicker, causing his brow to raise in a mere confusion. “So, what? You’re not one of them?”

There’s no way such a handsome guy wouldn’t use his charms to get the best out of it. He said it himself, young guys are horny just like most girls. It’s not like you judge him for it, he can do whatever he wants as long as he’s respectful to others and doesn’t cross any boundaries.

“I’m certainly not,” he says, voice lacking of that sweet yet mysterious tone he used before. There’s something that flickers behind his eyes but it’s gone before you can dwell what it really was. “I didn’t come here to have sex.”

You’re surprised by his bluntness, not expecting him being so blunt all of a sudden, especially about that sex part since he basically ran his way around the topic of guys being horny and wanting to have sex. But you like it, even though you can’t bring yourself to grin like you want to, not when he’s staring at you with gaze darkening.

“Why did you come here for then?” you ask quietly, eyes searching for any kind of emotion or something that could give you a better glimpse inside of his mind.

There’s something about him. He’s mysterious, hiding something and you’re sure it’s just a part of his personality. Either way, it makes him even hotter and you’d drop onto your knees for this man. But there’s your dignity in the way and somehow, you’re glad about that. You’re not one to have a meaningless one night stand. Not that he’d probably want or care to have one with you.

It’s getting awkward, the silence between you two as he complements about his answer causing you to play with the hem of your stupid dress that aren’t even yours. But then something clicks inside of him and he smiles.

“To have fun.”

“Good luck with that.” you murmur, sarcasm lacing in your tone because you can’t believe Yeri just went after her ex leaving you ‘socializing’ (as she called it) with total strangers. Drunk strangers.

You don’t expect the hot stranger to hear you, your voice muffled by the loud music mainly, but he does when a deep chuckle erupts past his lips.

“Why’s that?”

“If you didn’t come here to have sex or get drunk, I don’t think you’ll have fun. Look at everyone.” you chuckle, arms motioning around you to prove your point.

He doesn’t, his eyes stay solely on you but you’re too busy being sarcastic and still bitter about this party to properly register that.

Jimin isn’t stupid. He knows how these parties work. Where’s alcohol, there’s a big urge to have sex and it proves to be right when everyone’s kissing or dancing which mainly leads to the sex itself.

“I take it you’re not here willingly.” he speaks up, eyes dropping towards your mouth where a fake blood is smeared in the corner of your lips.

It’s supposed to add a little bit of horror detail to your look, but you’re far from that.

“Debatable. My friend had decided to invite me at the last minute and now she ditched me because of her ex. Honestly, the guy is a total prick, I don’t know why she keeps running after him.” you explain, scoffing as you cross your arms over your chest.

Jimin reacts with a low chuckle, slowly licking his bottom lip before he takes a deep breath. It’s interesting to watch him, there’s something about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You wouldn’t tell Yeri’s business to just some stranger, or anyone, but maybe it’s those two shots of soju that let your mouth on the loose. He doesn’t know her anyway and you’re too annoyed to care, even though you do feel a pang of guilt.

“What are you doing here? Besides, to have fun here. Did you come here alone?”

Great, Y/N. Now you sound noisy making it sound like you’re asking if he has a girlfriend. Did you come here alone is a totally straightforward question, a very bad pickup line usually guys use. You’ve no idea why you just asked that. However, Jimin doesn’t seem to mind and even though, his lips quirk in a sly smirk and you act like you haven’t noticed, he shakes his head to give you an answer.

“My friend was particularly interested in this party.”

He doesn’t lie, it’s true. Taehyung did persuade Jimin to come to this one.

“Oh, so you were dragged into this like me,” you chuckle.

He isn’t, but he stays quiet.

“I wish she’d tell me sooner than four hours before the party had started. I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t even get to shop for my Halloween look and ended up with Yeri’s costume from last year. God knows what these dresses have been through.”

The incredibly handsome stranger laughs, like truly laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound ever. It makes you grin without even noticing.

“I do think you make a perfect mixture of spooky and ravishing nurse.”

Yeah, Yeri’s costume last year was a nurse but you put your own thought into it and put some fake blood in the corner of your lips and the top of your cheekbone. There’s some of it on your collarbone and arm just to make it more ‘scary’ but it’s just a huge fail. The dress is short, luckily not dangerously short for you to feel uncomfortable in them. You’re not even sure if this is a Halloween costume. Yeri looks like the type of girl to like foreplay, maybe she used it with her ex. Oh fuck, you can’t think about that.

His compliment completely blows all your thoughts out, your heart picking a pace as for the first time, your facade slowly falls down and you blush. Did he just called you hot?

“Thanks,” you grin, “Although, I think this costume is shitty it’s still better than being dressed as Harley.”

“Harley?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

You stare at him, watching his confused gaze before something flickers in his eyes and he just stares at you.

Well, not everyone had seen Suicide Squad.

“From the movie? Suicide Squad? Harley and Joker? They’re this lunatic couple and everyone’s been wearing their costumes for the past... three years, is it? I don’t even know but it’s so cliché. I think I saw four Jokers on my way to the bathroom. Don’t get me started on Harley.” you roll your eyes, leaning yourself against the kitchen counter that’s behind you.

The two of you just stand in silence for a couple of seconds, and you almost think it’s awkward even though there’s not an awkward atmosphere and you’re just standing in a comfortable silence.

“So, vampire, huh?” you fill the silence after a moment, catching his attention as he watches you with a serious look. “Not to be an asshole, but that’s an overused costume as well.” you add, wondering if you’re getting too comfortable with this stranger.

But he’s probably the most normal and sober guy you stumbled upon, even if he’s the one who approached you. There’s something odd about him, but that’s just because he’s not like one of those drunk assholes trying to get you into one of the rooms upstairs. He’s not rude, disrespectful and drunk and that’s all that matters for you to feel comfortable talking to him.

His features relax and he lets out a breathy chuckle, showing his fangs. “Their costumes don’t do the justice.” he comments, eyes watching one of the guy passing by who’s got vampire costume which makes you snort.

Overused, like you said.

“They do look cheap,” you comment, giggling. “Isn’t it uncomfortable to talk with those?”

He looks at you with confusion, mouth opening in realization when you point at your teeth to explain.

“No.”

It comes out short, surprisingly deep and serious and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else but decides not to when he closes his mouth.

“You look believeable, though.”

“I do, don’t I?” he chuckles, and your body relaxes when all the seriousness is gone.

“Your skin is pale, not covered in that awful white color and your eyes... wow, those lenses look beautiful. It must’ve been an expensive costume.” you tell him, head leaning towards him as you study his eyes.

They’re almost deep red. Weren’t they more orange before? The lightening is shitty and honestly, you’re too busy inspecting the beauty and uniqueness of his eyes.

He looks stunned, and it looks like he stopped breathing for a moment when you lean closer to him to study his eyes and face. He closes his mouth, not letting you see the fangs hiding underneath those plump lips and even though they’re slightly poking, you can’t see much. He’s dressed normally, not wearing some awful costume. He’s done the minimum with his costume but he can easily win as the vampire of this party. It’s not too much, decent enough to make people stop and praise his costume if they had the chance to be face to face with him.

“I’m Jimin.” he decides to say instead, not even showing his gratitude from your compliment but you ignore it.

It was more of a loud thought anyway. You’re distracted again, this time by his name.

Jimin.

Fuck, even his name is beautiful.

“Y/N,” you tell him, giving him a smile which you hide by taking a sip of your drink.

He watches you, eyes scanning your lips before they move down to your throat as you gulp. You’re too focused watching people dance to notice the way he licks his lips and gulps.

“So, are you studying here?”

His eyes shoot up, your voice catching his attention once again before he thinks through your question. It’s weird how long he’s taking to actually answer, it’s quite simple question that's got a simple answer.

“No,”

That’s it? Just no?

He must’ve noticed the faint frown that settles on your face before he gives you a little quirk of his lips, those plump lips stretching to a handsome smile that once again gets all your attention.

“Are you?”

“Huh?” you blurt out, embarrassed how quick that flew out of your mouth.

You’re even more embarrassed, your cheeks slowly tinting into a red color when he chuckles lowly under his breath, completely aware of your lack of attention because all of it was focused on his goddamn smirk.

“Are you studying here?” he asks, not hiding that amused smirk that slowly settles into a soft smile that encourages you to answer.

“Yeah,” you smile, “psychology.”

“Are you a future psychologist?” he asks, a glint of teasing in his tone but there’s a curiosity lacing on his soft pale features.

How did he guess that?

“Maybe?” you chuckle, poking your inner cheek with a tongue. “I thought that’s what I want to be in the future, growing up it used to be my dream.” you tell him honestly.

You’ve no idea why you’re so honest and talkative with a complete stranger. Even though you haven’t exposed anything too personal about yourself, it feels very simple to talk to Jimin. He holds this calm aura around him that makes you want to tell him your deepest secrets without you feeling guilty about it the next morning.

“Used to? It’s not anymore?” he asks, cocking his head innocently but you know he’s not stupid and knows what your words meant very well.

For some reason, it seems like he really wants to talk to you and urges you to talk more. He seems interested in you. Not seeing you as a snack and walking vagina, but maybe just someone he wants to talk with because he’s been dragged into this party just like you have. That’s one thing you’ve in common.

“Do you really wanna hear my heartbreaking life story?” you tease him, chuckling when the corner of his lips quirk up once again as he gives you a final nod.

“I’m quite intrigued.” he simply says, your heart skipping a beat for some reason and almost as if he could hear it, he lifts his eyebrow in a provocative and cocky manner.

“Will you tell me yours?” you ask in return, cocking your brow at him which makes him smile.

“Depends on how interesting yours will be.” he says, your lips set into a straight line before you purse them and give him a long sigh.

“It’s nothing drastic. I just feel like it’s not what I wanna do anymore, the worst thing of it all is that I’ve no idea what I wanna do in the first place. But it’d be a good job for me, something I need. It pays well and maybe, it’ll be more fun than I think it is right now. All I can think about is my dad and just the fact that I need to keep going. Life sucks, right?” you chuckle, trying to ease the sudden serious and saddened tone you had.

Jimin is not a person who gets bluffed easily but he acts like he hadn’t noticed anything.

“Your dad?” he asks, slowly watching your reaction as if he’s waiting for you to tell him some drastic news about your father.

“It’s just me and my dad. He’s got a huge loan for the next couple of years and I’m trying to help him, but the part-time jobs just aren’t enough. When I finish college, I’ll be able to find a better job and help him with that. He deserves it and that’s what keeps me going, y’know? I need to pay him back for taking care of me. But it’s okay, I just can’t wait until there’s no loan over our heads. I came to the conclusion that life can be happy and fun, even if there are things that suck.” you explain, noticing how interested he seems to be with your words, sinking all of the information you just gave him.

Despite how sad you seemed to be talking about your family, Jimin notices that you’re staying positive no matter what exactly happened in your life and what you haven’t told him. And that you’ve a goal, purpose you want to fill and probably a bigger heart that you're letting show to others. Maybe he’s wrong, it doesn’t have to be this way. He doesn’t know you. But it’s not right to think that it’s only you. Every person in this house, or even in the entire world, has something they want to accomplish. Dreams, goals and all of that. Maybe some of them don’t know it yet, they’re lost but that’s what life is for. To let them figure it out.

“That’s very nice of you.” he says, surprising you how serious and soft he sounds at the same time.

“But what about you? What is your life story?” you ask, wanting to change the topic because your life being discussed when you’ve had a few shots isn’t a good idea. Few more and you’d be probably bawling your eyes out just because you get emotional easily, especially if alcohol is involved.

“It doesn’t matter,” he chuckles, “It’s not interesting anyway.”

You don’t hide the disappointment that settles on your face, causing your lips to pout which makes him scrunch his nose cutely. What a shame, you really wanted to get to know him more. It’s like he’s putting distance between you two, keeping a safe distance but still wanting to be in your presence. He’s confusing you.

“But I told you mine.” you pout, mumbling under your breath like a child that just lost a game.

It’s comical, how you’re dressed in a sexy nurse costume and pouting just because you’re dissapointed. For the first time since being here, he feels unsure and actually stops for a second as you see his eyes dance between yours.

“My parents are dead. And I wish I could’ve made them proud like you’re making your dad.” he says, completely serious as you gape at him with an open mouth.

Is he serious? You don’t know him, his reactions are mysterious and despite him talking about his dead parents, he looks too serious and doesn’t show any sadness.

“I-I’m s--“

“Don’t,” he stops you, voice rough as he coughs and tries to mask his all of a sudden unfriendly tone.

It makes you speechless and actually bad for pressuring him into telling you more. Although, you’re not sure if that can be called pressuring.

“It’s been a long time since they’re not here. I’ve had time to process it.” he explains, hand brushing through his golden locks while you watch them bounce right back into its place.

You don’t ask how long they’re dead, or anything about them because it’s not your place to be curious about that. If you knew sooner about them not being alive, you wouldn’t even show him how disappointed you were of not hearing his shortened version of life story.

All you can give him is a slight nod, awkwardly glancing at your heels that, of course are borrowed from Yeri. Remembering that there's still almost a full bottle of soju that you snatched for yourself behind you, you turn around and pour yourself a shot as you glance at Jimin. He's staring at you, attentively paying attention to your face, as you give him a crooked smile.

“You want some?”

“No.” he answers, causing you to shrug as you drink the shot in one go, weirded out by the expression he gives you. It almost looks like he's glaring at you for drinking and it makes you give him a dumbfounded look.

“Aren't you thirsty?” you ask, his jaw clenching before he allows himself to relax and a low chuckle comes out of his mouth.

“You've no idea,” he grins, taking a step closer to you as he hovers over you, cornering you while your lower back digs into the kitchen counter.

Your eyes are big, staring at him in a complete shock by his sudden move but you can't move away. Your whole body is frozen, staring into his red eyes that stare right back into yours as if he's looking for something in them. His own hands lean against the kitchen counter right beside your waist, almost touching you while your heart trembles with excitement. And then when you think it can't get worse, he actually leans his face closer to yours as he takes a sniff of you. He hums at your scent, your cheeks flaring both in embarrassment and praise, mentally clapping yourself on the shoulder for choosing that expensive Yves Saint Laurent perfume you got from Yeri last Christmas. You've always saved it for special occasions, and even though you don't think of this party as anything special, you're glad you've listened to your own guts and used it. Let's just ignore the fact that you used it because you were counting on sweating, knowing the strong perfume will make you smell amazing either way.

He pulls slightly back, your noses almost touching as you can smell his own cologne, mixed with something that smells like mint. You don't even blink, not allowing yourself to budge as he gives you a tiny smirk.

“I'm particularly thirsty for something else.” he tells you silently, his voice getting a few octaves deeper but yet sounding calm and soft.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, the huge lump there almost uncomfortable, as you stare at him with still the same shock. Gulping, you blink a few times as you wonder what the hell just happened.

You should be mad because after all, he lied to you. He told you he's not here for sex, yet he implied something erotic and suggestive with a simple sentence that rolled off his tongue so easily and elegantly, but that's not the worst part. The worst part – that you're not proud of – is that you like it and you can feel yourself pressing your thighs together. This had never happened before. No guy could made your body hot without even touching you, and you wouldn't be so thirsty too for someone you only know by their first name.

“I thought you didn't come here for sex.” you manage to speak up, successfully without stuttering or sounding too nervous, although confusion and the slightest tremble in your voice is audible even to you.

“I didn't,” he confirms, nodding but not moving an inch from you. Without taking your eyes off him, you slowly blink as you watch him lick his lips. “But you look irresistible to my eyes.” he says simply, slowly reaching for the strand of your hair as he twirls it around his index finger.

He's not touching you fully, and unfortunately you can't quite feel his touch through your hair because even now, he delicately touches your hair like you're a fragile doll that may break.

“Then, why don't you do something?” you surprise yourself, not believing something like that just left your mouth. You would never say something like this to a stranger, no matter how handsome and freaking hot he is. But this is Jimin, it seems like everything is different with him.

And he laughs. He actually laughs like you've just told him a funny joke, and all you can do is stare at him like he just lost his mind. Is he just playing with you? Was he testing you? Before your crazy thoughts and theories could swarm your already confused mind, something else catches your attention that makes a prominent frown adorn your features. This doesn't get unnoticed by Jimin, his laughter dying down as he realizes where your eyes and attention are focused onto.

There are no longer any fangs poking out of his mouth, and you watch something flicker behind those red orbs that seem to glow in the gloomy lightning.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, ignoring your look of confusion and curiosity that still lingers in your eyes that don't look away from his mouth just yet.

“Where are your--”

“Took them off,” he cuts you off, letting go of your hair. “Now, be a good girl and answer my question.” he hums, inching closer to you as you hold your breath.

“What do you want to do?” you ask instead, getting a breathy chuckle from him. You're not sure whether it's because of your question or because you purposely avoided answering his.

“You wouldn't wanna know,” he chuckles, eyes dropping down to your lips that are already nibbling on your bottom lip. “It'll bleed if you keep bitting on it.” he comments, licking his own.

“What, are you scared of blood?” you joke, releasing your mouth that seemed to get his attention, before the mention of blood causes him to snap those red eyes to yours.

“Not in the slightest,” he smirks, for whatever reason but it shoots butterflies straight to your stomach. “Are you?” he cocks his head to the side, reminding you of a snake that eyes its prey. Or some predator that has some fun with its prey before they kill it.

Fuck, you shouldn't have watched that horror movie Yeri suggested yesterday.

“Of what? Blood or you?” you find the courage to ask, raising a brow at him as you eye his from up and down.

He smirks, cocking his brow at you. “You tell me. Are you scared of me?”

Maybe you should be. No one has ever approached you, talked to you or given you this kind of attention before. This is a completely new territory that you're tiptoeing around, and it does give you some kind of thrill. Maybe it's because your life is boring and Jimin summons a new temptation that you've never felt before. There could be hundreds of reasons why you feel this way or what you should feel instead, but you can't bother yourself to think about it any longer. Because instead of feeling any fear towards the new stranger that has angelic features and voice, and with some kind of darkness that he's hiding, you feel yourself getting more interested and temped. In this case, he's like a forbidden fruit for you.

“No,” you reply confidently, head held high as you grin. “Should I be?”

This constant teasing and the lack of touch just sets a flame of temptation inside you that slowly drives you insane.

“Maybe,” he says, tips of his fingers reaching for your dress as he plays with the hem of it, fingers dancing dangerously at the top of your breasts. “You're the one who's gripping the kitchen counter for your dear life.” he teases, your eyes shooting to your hands that in fact, are gripping the corner so tightly that they turn white.

Embarrassingly, you let it go as you cross your hands over the chest to make yourself appear more confident, trying to mask the way your heart thumps loudly against your chest.

“That doesn't mean I'm scared.” you tell him, indirectly suggesting that there may be another reason why you appear to be so tense.

Judging by the tiny and already known smirk that slowly stretches across those beautiful and thick lips, Jimin confirms that he knew way before you even said it out loud. No matter how many times you seem to outrun him, he's always two steps ahead of you, having a prepared answer.

“What it could mean, then?” he asks lowly, feigning an incomprehensibility that this time – you see and are prepared for.

“Many things.” you gulp, breath hitching when the tip of his finger slightly touches your skin. It's short-lived and almost unrecognizable, but it still makes you shiver over the fact he's so close touching the top of your breasts.

In other scenarios, you wouldn't let anyone this near to you, nor someone almost touching your breasts that are covered in a costume dress.

“Care to share, my love?”

The new petname shoots excitement straight to your body, your cheeks flaring pink as you look away from him for a moment. You know he's aware of your reaction and how that little petname affected you, but you remain confident as you stare right back at him.

“I think you get the idea.”

In no way in hell, you'd ever tell him how much you wish to be fucked by him. Those sinful thoughts have to stay in your head, and even if you're not saying them loud like he wants you to, you know he's smart enough to get the idea.

“Tell me.” he presses, fingers playing with the top buttons of your costume that you can't unfortunately feel that much, except the tiny pressure he puts on them by playing with it.

“Jimin...” you whine, causing him to grin cheekily at you. For a moment, it looks like he lost that dark and mysterious aura. “Why won't you kiss me?”

You're done playing this game, your patience is slowly dying as you wish to feel his lips against yours. Even just for a second.

“Because you never asked me to,” he answers simply, surprising you by his diplomatic answer that sounds nothing but truthful.

“If I ask you to,” Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. He's doing this purposely, he wants you to make the first move. You feel like his goal is to make you desperate for him, which he didn't have to do for long. You don't get it.

“Will you kiss me?” you ask quietly, eyes searching his once again.

“Mhm,” he confirms. “If that's what you want.”

First of all, you're surprised that he's more interested in your own interest and consent, instead to taking the first chance of your attention and weakness for himself. And there's a chance that you were wrong. Maybe he hadn't been doing this to push you to make the first move, or to enjoy how you're squirming underneath his hovering figure. All he wanted this whole time has been your consent. Second of all, it makes him fucking attractive for doing so and no matter what the real reason is, you're willing to risk it all for this man.

“Jimin,” you tell him, voice strained and raspy. “Kiss me.”

For all you know, he could be playing with you this whole time and he doesn't have to be interested in you. Again, Jimin proves you that you're wrong and manages to surprise you all over again when in seconds, he pulls you closer to him and presses your lips together. Jimin seeks your lips hungrily, surprising you how rough and fast he is as if he was controlling himself this whole time. His hand is holding your head from the back for support, while the other one grabs your hip and squeezes it. Gasping, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue dancing across your bottom lip before he envelopes your mouth again. Your tongues move together, your own hands gripping his biceps that are hidden beneath his leather jacket. Jimin has a boosted energy, barely allowing you to breathe between the hungered kisses he's showering you with, and when you start desperately trying to catch your breath, you're forced to press against his chest firmly. It's hard, much harder than you've imagined and it takes an extra strength to actually make him budge, which primarily is the soft whimper that you let out against his mouth. He moves away, almost jumping away from you as he stares at you all frozen.

He watches your chest move quickly, trying to catch the oxygen that your lungs are craving for. You put your own hand over your chest, chuckling when you feel your heart beating fast and hard.

A group of drunk people stumble inside the kitchen, catching your attention as they laugh loudly, unable to walk properly as they're reaching for other bottles that are placed on the kitchen island. You weren't here alone this whole time, there are still a couple of people making out or talking, probably searching for somewhere more peaceful than the living room where the most people are. Considering this fact that someone might've seen you sucking off each other's faces, it doesn't bother you and it's probably mainly the fact they probably hadn't even noticed.

The sudden drop of soju bottle that breaks instantly and stains the floor snaps you out of your thoughts, your gaze shifting to the drunk girl who starts giggling over the fact she's too drunk and clumsy to the point she just dropped a bottle. Now, there's soju smell lingering in the air and staining the floor with shards of glass laying there.

Turning to Jimin, you catch the sudden scrunch of his nose at the smell of alcohol which makes you giggle, even though you find it not so pleasing either. Taking a few steps towards him, you grab him by his wrist and drag him deeper into the house. Surprisingly, he allows you to drag him as he stares at the back of your head until you stop and push the door open. You're quick to turn the lock, making sure there's no one disturbing you as he finally notices where you brought him. The bathroom is decorated in deep blue, the same gloomy lightning that comes from the round mirror and creates a much more dark and intimate atmosphere. Standing in the safe distance, he watches you turn around to him and lean against the small counter where the sink is.

His eyes turn dark, the red color almost unrecognizable as he keeps staring at you without making any move. Throwing out your insecurity, because this in fact is your first bold move that you've made on someone, you don't let it disturb you from your plan. Your palms sprawled against the bathroom counter, ass digging into the edge of it, you straighten yourself and cross your exposed legs.

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare at me?” you ask, one hand flicking your hair over your shoulder which catches most of Jimin's attention and his eyes get big. The exposure of your nakedness, the vein that pokes beneath your beautiful and warm skin makes him react instantly.

You yelp when he's suddenly in front of you, using the lack of your attention and the second of you closing your eyes to blink, he's gripping your face before he attacks your lips with his own, kissing you hungrily that he did the first time. Only this time, you're ready for the strength and intensity of his kisses, awaiting for his tongue that darts out into your mouth. You grip his jacket, trying to take it off but it's impossible with him holding you so close. Tugging onto the leather material, he gets your message and strips it off, tossing it carelessly onto the dirty floor. Your palms spread over his chest, feeling his hardened muscles that are surprisingly too hard. In an instant, you're turned around, hands gripping the sink as you feel Jimin's hands on your thighs, slowly disappearing underneath the skirt of your dress. You shiver, his hands cold against your heated skin as you look back at him as much as your current position allows you to.

Unfortunately, you get only a brief glance at Jimin who turns you around rather aggressively. From this position, you can barely see him in the reflection of the mirror but as he looks up, you're met with his red eyes that stare at you back.

“What do you want?” he asks lowly, hands slowly caressing your ass cheeks that aren't covered by your panties, his nails grazing over the soft flesh.

Thank God, you chose to wear sexy underwear – the only sexy underwear you own.

“You,” you breathe out, telling him the obvious answer that he probably just wanted to hear. “You.. Jimin.”

You hear his low hum before your panties are pushed aside and dress hiked up, enough to let his fingers replace the lacy material. As soon as the tip of his cold fingers meet your heat that's coated with your slickness, your breath hitches. He starts rubbing the area, making sure he does the same thing to your clit before he pushes two fingers in. You gasp, not expecting him to enter you all of a sudden, especially with two fingers that stretch you deliciously. It slightly burns, but your arousal that's used as a lube helps a lot and it makes it easier for him to get in.

Jimin's surprised by your tightness, wondering when was the last time someone touched you while his red eyes flicker to your reflection to check your reaction. He's a monster, he shouldn't care if he's being too rough with you but for some reason he's curious to see how you react to his touch. A cocky smirk flickers on his lips when he sees your eyes closed and mouth open in delight.

“You like that?” he whispers, mouth hovering over your ear as he takes another sniff of you. Do you really smell that good?

He presses his thumb against your clit, circling it when he feels you clenching around and that's why he adds another finger. You gasp, mumbling something incorrect to both your and his ears. Again, he just smirks at your lack of response and how fucked out you already seem to be. He barely had to do anything.

Pulling your hips to him, he makes you arch for him with your ass pursed up almost dangerously close to his crotch.

Fucking you with his fingers, he has no mercy on you and your loud pleas of slowing down. He doesn't know you, but it feels like he reads all the signs your body gives him and with you clenching around his three fingers, being a mess that barely stands on her own feet, he knows you're close. The pleasure gets too much, his palms slapping against your clit as he keeps fucking you is nothing you are prepared for. The orgasm and the chase after it gets too intense, no longer in your hands and with you being able to control it, you're cumming around his fingers, sucking them right in. He slows down, but still keeps a sloppy pace that fucks you through it. Your whole body burns with tingles of post-orgasm and if it weren't for your hands desperately clutching onto the sink, and Jimin's body behind you caging you in, you'd probably fall like a potato sack.

He pulls out his fingers, sounds of slurping leaving his mouth as he cleans them. Unfortunately for you, you've missed that devilish sight of him doing it. You pry your eyes open, slowly straightening yourself as you turn around to check the devil himself.

Just as expected, he's smirking at you, proudly staring at your flushed cheeks and the quick rise of your chest. You surprise him, clutching his shirt between your fingers before you pull him closer and connect your lips together. He lets you kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and finally feeling up his skin more properly. You're surprised how cold he is, yet no hint of goosebumps cover his skin.

“You're so cold,” you comment, rubbing your hands over his forearms trying to warm him up.

Glancing back at him, you're surprised by the dumbfounded look he gives you before his mouth quirks up. “You wanna warm me up?” he asks, cocking his brow at you as your mouth salivates, your hands completely stopping.

“Yeah,” you answer, no idea why the fuck would you even answer that when you should just put yourself to action. The little act makes him chuckle, leaning closer to you as you hear him gulp.

You think he's about to kiss you, his lips close to the crook of your neck and you tilt your head to the side, to give him a better room for that. However, you're surprised when his mouth never makes an actual contact with your neck. You slightly tilt back, staring at his frozen state as you see his throat bob.

“Jimin?” you ask, growing worried when he seems to be acting weird all of a sudden. “Are you okay?”

Your voice is muffled to his ears, he barely hears you as all he can focus is the way your blood pulses in your veins and the soft heartbeat of your heart. But you don't know that, all you can see is Jimin standing there gulping and not moving at all. It's until your hand makes contact with his cheek, your warm palm ready to envelop it but before you can even properly touch his skin, he's gripping your wrist at an extreme speed. You stare at him, almost jumping back from the sudden movement.

“You scared me,” you chuckle, trying to ease the tension as he takes a step back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answers nonchalantly, staring at you with those red eyes. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, surprised by the sudden change in his behavior and tone. He starts unbuckling his belt, your mouth salivating at the thought you're about to see his cock. It's been awhile since you gave a proper blowjob and although, you're not quite satisfied with your skills of giving one in the first place, you just can't wait to taste him.

If Yeri could see you right now, she'd never believe that it's the same best friend that has always been opposed to one night stands.

Dropping onto your knees, your face is facing his growing bulge as you look up at him for permission. He chuckles, licking his bottom lip as he nods his head at you, silently telling you to get to it already. You put his jeans down, not entirely just enough to expose his casual black boxer briefs, as they stay wrapped around his mid-thighs. His boxer briefs are next, your fingers too eager to see him rather than to tease and play with him. Something tells you that Jimin is not the type to enjoy teasing. His erection spreads free, finally out of the material of his tight jeans, and it slaps against his clothed stomach that's hidden beneath the white shirt.

You wish there was a better lightning and for a second, you contemplate whether to turn the main light on, just to fully appreciate his erected length. No matter what the lightning is, you notice how thick he is and a few veins that poke underneath the thin skin. From the light patch of hair to the red tip that's leaking with a little bit of pre-cum makes your mouth salivate like never before, and you make sure you gulp all of it before you can embarrass yourself. Not wasting any time, your hand curls around the base as you give him a testing squeeze which surprisingly, makes him barely react and when you glance up at him, he stares at you with dark eyes.

Little do you know he needs your touch, he needs to distract himself from the thirst and hunger, and that dark voice inside his head that tells him to do something completely different, rather than have you on your knees and ready to take him.

As if you could hear his thoughts – which you can't and he knows that – he almost sighs in relief when you wrap your pretty red lips around his tip. It doesn't matter that your lipstick is completely smeared from Jimin's lips and his furious kisses. Sucking on it, you let the angry red tip glisten with your saliva before you start pumping him. Through hooded eyes, Jimin watches you licking a strip up his cock as you go back to sucking him off while pumping his hardened length, this time harder and quicker. Jimin's low grunts that occasionally leave his mouth encourages you to take him deeper, the tip of his cock almost hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes burn with tears but you blink them away, curling your tongue around the head of Jimin's cock. His hand grabs the back of your head, clutching your hair in his fist as he starts moving his hips. It hurts a little, he's putting too much pressure and strength into grabbing your hair and the roots that burn your skull. But with your own arousal between your legs, slowly dripping down your thighs and the undying lust that you feel towards Jimin, you've no time to complain. It adds another pinch of pleasure, a pleasure that makes you moan around his length and almost gag when he thrusts into your mouth. Surprisingly, you look up and you find him checking your reaction.

Your warm hand around his cock and even warmer mouth that's wrapped around him feels surprisingly nicer than he thought it'd be. He takes his time to notice your reddened cheeks that he can see even from up, and with the dim lightning his red eyes catch the line of saliva that's drooling out of your mouth. And he growls, he actually growls and pulls you from his cock in seconds, before he's pulling you up and if it weren't for his strong hold, you'd surely stumble how quick he got you up. He backs you into the bathroom counter, to your previous position before he fingered you, but this time you're face to face. Your ass is digging into the edge of the counter, although you don't seem to care. You're too focused staring at Jimin that clenches his jaw, suddenly bumping into you as he starts kissing you. Whimpering into his mouth, you're surprised when he easily lifts you up and gets you seated on the bathroom counter. However your yelp is muffled by his mouth, his hands pulling you close to the edge, dangerously close that you're clutching onto him, scared of a possible fall. But Jimin got you, his body is caging you and creates a barrier between you and the floor.

Jimin's hand wrapped around his erected cock looks sinful, like nothing you've ever seen before, at least no one made it look so effortlessly hot. Your body almost trembles with the anticipation of feeling him inside of you, and you know it's coming because he starts pumping himself. Not even aware that you stretch your legs to give him a better space, plus giving him a view of the mess between your legs. He pulls you closer, nudging your thighs apart even more before his other hand moves your ruined panties more to the side. He gets a better view of your pulsating heat that's waiting just for him.

“What about a condom?”

He stops, eyes flickering to yours as he stares at you with unreadable recognition. It's enough that you're about to have sex with some stranger, even though it's very hot and irresistible stranger, but you don't know him after all. Are you ready to risk it for him? The rational you mentally praises you for remembering such important detail before it could've been too late.

“Don't have one,” he says through teeth, almost seeming to be annoyed that you stopped him.

Maybe you should grow offended or annoyed yourself by his reaction, but for some reason you don't. You just stare and wait for him to say something else.

“You don't trust me?” There it is – the smirk comes back and makes an appearance on his thick lips again.

“I don't know you.” you point out, cocking a brow at him.

“Yet, you're here sprawled for me ready to be fucked,” he chuckles lowly, your expression dropping as your eyes grow big. “I don't know you either, that's why we need to trust each other.” he says, but still doesn't move to do anything else.

Your mind is screaming at you, telling you over and over again how a bad idea this is and that you'll regret it. There's no actual threat of disease of a potential pregnancy (even though, you've been taking birth control since your teenage years) but you don't know that. He can't exactly tell you without having to explain something that he doesn't even want to or has to explain.

“Hm? What's it gonna be?” he purrs, his hand cupping your jaw as he starts caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Are we gonna trust each other?”

In a way, you're aware he's coaxing you into agreeing and using your temptation by using his low and tempting tone, but you don't find yourself calling him out for it. You're speechless, not able to move your mouth and find your own voice, even though you're not sure what your answer is going to be. But then he's pulling away, taking your silence as an answer which kind of surprises you because you thought he really is coaxing you into agreeing. Before he can fully pull away, you wrap your legs around his frame and cage him.

He opens his mouth staring at you as you can feel his hardened length touching the exposed skin of your thigh.

“Fuck me, Jimin.” you tell him, meeting him in the middle as you both crash your lips together.

The kiss is heated, even more than ever before and you shiver when you feel his tip against your heat. He looks at you, checking one more time as you give him a nod before you crash your lips together again.

He needs you as his distraction but he's not an asshole to take you without your consent, or trying to control you.

With that, he pushes past your folds and enters you. You gasp, pressing your face into his shoulder as you bite onto him gently. He doesn't budge, not surprised by the feeling of your teeth dangerously poking him through the fabric of his shirt. He's pushing in, bottoming out before he's already pulling out just to thrust back in. Jimin has no patience, already getting to work as he starts fucking you. With each thrust, it gets easier to move inside of you as your cum and arousal helps him. You're surprised how good you're taking him, even though your walls do burn with the sudden penetration and the new feeling of his thick cock. Even the pace is going too fast, the top of his thighs slapping against the back of yours while his balls make contact with your ass. The bathroom is filled with sinful sounds of skin on skin slapping, and it coaxes you to clench around him repeatedly. You can't keep up with the animalistic and rustless pace he set, whimpering and moaning his name all over again with an occasional curse falling out of your lips. Jimin grunts are no longer silenced ones, although he seems to be controlling his voice much more.

“Fuck,” you moan, head tilting back as your hands are doing a poor job at trying to hold you in place.

Jimin's hands are around your thighs, making sure your legs stay apart as he keeps fucking into you. You can feel sweat slowly dripping down your neck, even your ass getting sweaty from the contact of the bathroom counter.

“I'm--fuck, I'm close.” you gasp, clutching the edge even harder and before you can say something else, you're already cumming around him. “Ohhh, fuck, Jimin.” you moan out through your orgasm, his pace not slowing down even after you're done and gritting your teeth at the overstimulation.

His head falls into the crook of your neck, lips almost making contact with your skin as he starts shaking and grunting. You think he's close, that it's only a natural reaction of approaching orgasm and you're completely thrown back when he suddenly pulls away completely. His cock is out of you in a record time and as you blink, he's in the middle of the bathroom standing with his jeans and boxer briefs wrapped around his mid-thighs, along with still hardened cock that's coated with your cum. If the situation weren't so weird all of a sudden, you'd probably focus on the sight in front of you much more.

You watch Jimin's features twist in an almost painful expression, his nose scrunching as his whole body shakes. It's nothing too drastic but just enough to notice by the way he's shivering and trying to control himself. He gulps a couple of times as well, seeming like he's in a pain. You've no idea what has just happened and you just stand there completely clueless, eyes big and mouth agape.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

You hop off the counter, ignoring how sensitive you're between your legs and how hard it feels like to be standing on your feet all of a sudden.

“Don't,” he warns you, voice raising as he outstretches his arm to keep you from coming closer. “Don't come any closer.” he says lowly, head held high as you can't see his face.

“What, why? What happened?” you ask worriedly, your eyes filled with worry and confusion at the same time.

When you're about to take another step towards him, it's like he can sense it before you can even more your feet, his head snaps to you and he growls at you.

“Fucking stay away.” he warns you again, almost yelling at you as you jump in fear.

The last thing he sees is your scared eyes before he focuses his gaze to the floor again. He can feel the veins starting to cracking up on his skin, showing what he really craves for. He can't let you see. With your heartbeat being the loudest melody in the room and your smell filling it too, he can't promise not to do something he doesn't want to. That was the whole purpose of tonight, the whole purpose of approaching you and talking to you. He has no idea what's happening to him and why can't he listen to what his mind is telling him to do. He's controlling himself and he knows if he stays any longer, you're not going to make it without any harm.

And that's why he focuses his attention on something else, desperately listening to people slurring drunken nonsense and the loud music before something else catches his attention. It's not too much, just the only thing that helps with not focusing on your smell entirely. It's something no one else can hear, the whimpers and slurping sounds that could only mean one thing.

You notice how he zones out, your hands pulling your dress down to have at least some kind of modesty as you eye the stranger in front of you.

“J--”

His eyes snap to yours as he turns around. “You need to leave.”

“I-- what?” you blurt out, seeing him tucking himself back into the jeans. You ignore the feeling of disappointment that clouds your mind for a whole second, before you're back to confusingly staring at him.

“I don't know wha--”

Taking two long steps, he's right in front of you before he grips your face tightly into his hands. You whimper at the strength staring into his dark orbs that shine like never before.

“Get your friend and leave. You've to leave, right now.”

The firmness in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you, however it gets somewhere in the back of your mind as you stare at Jimin with big eyes. Painfully for you, he lets you go as he starts backing away from you but there's nothing you can do. You can't bring yourself to move, nor rush after him when he flicks the lock open and walks out of the bathroom. You stand there, your mind suddenly snapping into action as the only thing you can think about is getting Yeri.

When Jimin makes it through the crowd, successfully hiding and blending with his surroundings, he stops and makes sure he has a great view of you walking out of the bathroom. He's watching you from the safe distance, seeing you trying to find your friend that seems to be nowhere in sight. When desperation is evident on your face since you've checked every room downstairs and you still can't find her, your legs lead you upstairs. He wishes he'd tell you to go alone, the longer you're staying... no, he doesn't care.

His mind drifts away to the moment in the bathroom, where his long canines started growing and all he could think about was sinking them to your delicious neck.

He can hear your faint heartbeat but he doesn't allow himself to get closer, not even if you're already upstairs opening every door of each room to find your friend. And when he sees Taehyung with a satisfied grin and blood dripping down his chin nearing him, it makes Jimin think only one thing. None of these people are aware of the liquid dripping down his friend's chin, thinking that it's just another fake blood even if Jimin can smell the metal scent from miles away.

You're growing annoyed when the third room you open, there's still no sight of Yeri but some drunk couples having sex or smoking weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, wondering if these people don't know what locks are. As you're nearing another room, you just hope there are no naked people and any possible butts that you'll be seeing before you take the doorknob into your hands.

But nothing could ever prepare you for the sight behind that door.

The room is dark, the street lights create at least some kind of lightning but you still decide to turn up the lights. It happens in seconds. The first thing you recognize is the costume, the same one she proudly showed you this morning saying she'll be the hottest Black Widow. You stare at the horrific sight of the face of your friend which is almost unrecognizable. Her lifeless body is laying on a bed, blood trickling down her neck and staining beige sheets underneath her. Your piercing scream rings in your ears but you can't stop screaming from the horror sight in front of you.

Jimin hears your screams, his eyes shifting towards the house as he starts the engine.

“You killed her?” he asks, voice low as he starts the engine.

“Y'know how I get,” Taehyung chuckles, wiping the remains of blood from his chin and mouth. “I was hungry.”

Jimin grips the steering wheel tightly, stealing a last glance at the house and the party that slowly turns into chaos. That's why they never come back. They can't and he should've known his longtime friend would get one of his moods. Taehyung is crazy, much more dangerous than Jimin because he gets so into his own needs.

“You didn't have to kill her.” Jimin points out, leaving the driveway while the house keeps getting further and further.

“I didn't have to, you're right. But I did,” he sighs pleasingly, patting his stomach as he makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “And she tasted fucking great.”

Jimin's jaw flexes, slowly growing irritated by his friend's decision to end someone's life again. He should've gotten used to it by now, but he can't never really process it. It's even weirder now that he knows that someone wasn't just someone. It was your best friend.

And that night, almost everyone who attended that party had some regrets. And you've got many of them.

You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin.

Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

If you just paid attention, maybe your friend would be still alive. And maybe you'd be in her place and would never make it out alive, if it weren't for the stranger with red dark orbs that hunts you every night.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts angst #jimin x reader #jimin smut #vampire au #kpop au #jimin angst #bts au #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #bts oneshot #personasintro

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cinnamonest · 4 years

Text

Yandere Kaeya Alberich

Words: 3,162

Tws: General yandere content, Kaeya being a dick

Summary: You’ve been trying to avoid the Favonius captain. He’s convinced you’re unsafe without him. If you don’t believe that, he’ll prove it to you.

"Traveler."

Your muscles tensed. The hairs on your skin raised up. How?

You turned your head towards the voice, a strained smile across your face. "Captain Kaeya!" You pushed with all your effort to make your voice sound pleasantly surprised, excited, sing-songy in the way anyone who knew you would expect upon being greeted with a familiar face. "What are you doing so far out?" You said it so very playfully, casually, as if it was a casual conversation maker and not a genuine question that burned in your mind.

What the hell was he doing so far out of his jurisdiction? What need does he have to be out all the way in Liyue?

Why did he have to show up when you specifically went out of your way to avoid him?

"Oh, I was looking for you. Asked around. Heard you were hanging around the area," He said, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of you, effectively cornering you in your little spot in the corner of the small tavern. He smiled, folding his hands together and resting his chin on them. "I just sent a couple knights out to look for you."

He made no effort to even try to hide it. He was completely shameless. That explained the Favonius knight that had appeared in the tavern earlier - you'd felt uneasy as you saw the man gaze around, halting when he made eye contact with you, before abruptly stepping out as quickly as he'd come in. You should have trusted your gut and left as soon as you could - but here you were.

When you'd first met Kaeya, you'd admired the young captain. He was brave, skilled, charming, and undeniably a very attractive man. His charisma made him a well-respected, well-liked person throughout Mondstadt, even if his reputation did include an arrogance that was just as well-known as his skill.

That was the issue - you'd noticed that trait, that one characteristic about the man that made you uneasy, that upset you so greatly that you had resolved to avoid him entirely. Well, three traits.

One, he was obsessive, clingy, attached to a degree far too unnatural for someone who had known you for such a short time.

Two, Kaeya was a little overly touchy. It was just on the border of your discomfort, too noticeable for you to feel okay with it, but too mild to feel justified in confronting him about it. Everywhere you went with him, you could always feel his hands somewhere on your person.

And three, Kaeya was perhaps the most condescending, self-righteous person you'd ever met. He was always, always right. You never knew what you were talking about. He always knew better. He was always smarter, you were always dumber. Or so he seemed to believe. You'd grown to be increasingly irked, insulted whenever he would treat you like some naive idiot, reminding you how you, some foreigner, had no grasp on reality in this world. Really, you were hopeless, you really should let him stay by your side, help your poor naive little self navigate the world, since you were so incapable on your own.

"Oh," you finally responded, snapping out of your thoughts, smile straining, trying to come up with some response to the utterly creepy truth he'd been so shameless to reveal. "Yeah, I came out here for a few days. Really, uh, pretty area."

"Mm. That it is. This place attracts a good deal of tourists," he tilted his head. "The route here is... Particularly dangerous, though. You didn't travel here all by yourself, did you?" His eye contact was unwavering, and you found yourself breaking away, opting to gaze downward. "Or were you... Accompanied?"

"Ah, I came here by myself," you answered. "I didn't encounter any dangers... Outside a few hilichurls."

"Hilichurls are responsible for quite a few deaths in the area. You shouldn't underestimate them," he remarked. "Really, that's an unwise decision, coming here alone... You really should have sought some protection."

"Oh, I'm pretty good with a sword. I can take care of myself."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Is that so?" His voice was amused. Condescending. As if you were a child, some little kid insisting on your competence. "I'm sure you'd fare well, if you found yourself surrounded by them. Or worse," his voice darkened, "some... Other forces. Plenty of bandits and other criminals walk the roads in the Mondstat region."

Isn't it your and your knights' job to deal with that?

"O-oh, I see. Well, it's a good thing I didn't run across any of those..."

"Yes, it is." The blunt statement left you feeling your stomach churn with awkward silence that followed. The undertone - the clear hint of frustration - of his voice made you shiver. "They could easily catch you off guard..."

You'd left Mondstadt almost solely to get away from him for a few days. You needed some respite. The irritation in you boiled over ever so slightly. "It's ok, I'm pretty sharp. I'm always on guard."

Since meeting him, Kaeya had been attached to you virtually every waking moment of the day - no, he insisted on being near when you slept, too. On the very day of your arrival, he'd insisted you sleep in the knight headquarters, despite how many times you repeated that an inn was perfectly suitable. It was safer, he claimed. Safest in the little spare room just down the hall from his own, where he could come check on you before you settled down for the night. The first time, you'd been startled, flushing as he stood in your door frame, thinking that the moment he realized you were barely clothed in your sleeping gown, he'd surely get flustered and leave, but he didn't, opting to talk to you for several minutes before turning away. That experience had been... uncomfortable.

He'd been everywhere you were, both inside of Mondstadt and, albeit a bit less, in the wilderness. You weren't even sure how he kept appearing exactly wherever you were - you'd be minding your own business, and a knight of Favonius would appear in your line of sight - soon after, Kaeya would always appear. No matter what time of day, no matter how far out you were, no matter what you wore or who you were with. Even if you had other people in a party with you, he insisted on showing up, as he claimed, for your safety. Sure, you had other companions that could try to guard you, but really, were they any valid comparison for a swordsman of his caliber?

You didn't need them, he could easily be more than enough, surpass any other companions you could take with you.

"Excuse me miss," a waitress approached. Oh no. "Did you and your friend need anything else?"

You knew what was coming, but he moved to speak before you could, snapping his head towards the woman. "No. Could you kindly leave us alone?"

The poor girl's eyes widened. "O-of course. My apologies." She quickly scurried off.

You'd never seen him be anything short of rude, even downright nasty, towards anyone that entered his presence. Somehow, you felt that he likely wasn't like that when it was just him - he was too clearly well-liked to be so rude all the time.

"Anyhow," he turned back to you, "I came here primarily to fetch you... Extremely important matters happening back in Mondstadt. That bard is looking for you. Something about Stormterror?"

Oh. That changed things.

"Something's wrong with him?"

"Mhm. Apparently so, but I don't have any details. Your assistance is needed immediately, apparently. Come," he smiled again, rising and extending his hand, "I'll take you back."

It shouldn't bother you - you should be grateful. You should simply sigh, and acknowledge that even if he was clingy, even if he was unnecessarily protective, there was nothing wrong here, there was nothing about the situation that should give you the feeling that it did.

It was a weight in your stomach, a twisting in your gut. Something instinctive, something in your deepest, most primal senses, was set off, a chill seeping through your blood. An innate sense in your very core that directed your actions, told you to get away.

But your trained sense of social decency rejected such an idea. He was being gracious, kind, helpful, and although he might put you at unease sometimes, Kaeya was known for being an upstanding person. And besides, logically, someone who seemed to like you so much wouldn't do anything to harm you.

You realized that you had frozen in place, briefly lost in your thoughts. He cocked his head. "Something the matter...?"

"N-no! No, I'm fine, I'm coming," you stood hurriedly, pushing the chair back as you did. "Thank you, Captain Kaeya."

He hummed in approval. "Of course. What kind of knight would I be, letting a defenseless girl wander back alone?" He paused. "I'll always protect you, so long as you actually bother to tell me when you plan to disappear." Despite his smile, there was an obvious hint of passive aggressive irritation in his voice, and you tried not to cringe in discomfort.

"Oh, aha, I'll be sure to let you know next time."

"I'd appreciate that."

You wondered how you'd apologize next time when you conveniently forgot your promise.

As you exited the little tavern, dropping mora on the bar for the owner, you felt a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the doorframe. The touch made you shiver, and it lingered, like a brand against your skin.

The walk back was lively, you weren't bored with Kaeya to talk to. Even if his conversation was primarily bragging about this or that, telling you all the oh-so-wonderful feats he'd accomplished in his time, it was better than silence, you supposed. You were back to Mondstadt fairly quickly - no hilichurl encounters, although you did briefly run across a few slimes that he insisted on taking down by himself.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" He stopped in the middle of whatever he had been going on about - honestly, you weren't paying that great of attention.

"What? I-I'm fine," you responded, eyes wide.

"Really?" he looked at you with something like concern in his uncovered eye, brows furrowing with worry. "You look... a little sick." Suddenly, he pushed the back of his hand against your forehead. "You feel hot, too."

Well, now you did feel warm, his touch leaving a searing feeling on your skin. "A-are you sure? I don't think I'm..."

"No, you're definitely coming down with something." He glanced over in the opposite direction, where the city walls were not too far off. "You probably haven't even realized it yet. I could carry you the rest of the way, if you'd like."

"O-oh, ah, no, that's fine! I can walk... just... fine..." You found yourself trailing off, embarrassment making your face burn.

"Well, why don't we stop by the Knights' Headquarters before we go to meet that... Venti, was it? We have a nurse there that could see to you."

"I..." you paused. Once again, that dreadful, sickly feeling rose in your stomach. Something telling you that something was wrong.

And again, you pushed it back. "Ok, sure."

He hummed in acknowledgement, swiftly moving towards the gates. "Let's hurry, then. Let me know if you change your mind and want me to carry you." He added a slight smirk to his last sentence. You weren't sure if you found it endearing or irritating.

Once you got back, as expected, Kaeya began directing you to the Knights of Favonius headquarters. And you followed him, all the way in, all the way down the stairs, all the way into the hall -- wait.

You figured perhaps he was absent-mindedly headed that way out of force of habit. "Uh... Kaeya, are you sure we're going the right way? This is..."

The same little tucked-away hallway that your rooms were in. In fact, you were literally coming up on your room.

He stopped, turning his head your way with a soft smile. "No worries. You're really starting to look like the blood is draining from your face... I just figured I can bring the nurse down here." He paused next to your room, then took a step back, motioning his head, as if to tell you to go in. "Just sit down, I'll find her and bring her this way."

The churning was stronger than before. Every hair on your body stood up. Every instinct you had told you something was not right.

Nonetheless, yet again, you didn't listen.

Your feet clicked on the stone floor as you walked through the door. It all occurred so quickly, your mind spun. It felt like a punch to the gut, the air knocked out of you, the impact pain pulsing as your back was slammed into the wall. Strong hands kept a bruising grip on your shoulders. The room spun around you, head dizzy and struggling to process. What snapped you into awareness was a cold, sharp chill pressed right up against your neck, and a firm knee pressed between your legs.

He had you pinned to the wall, sword hovering ever so slightly above the skin on top of your veins. You gasped for air from the impact. "K-Kaeya!" You managed to choke out. You couldn't form anything beyond that. Panic was surging through your body, mind overwhelmed as survival instinct tried and failed to find a quick way to get away.

"What's that?" He pressed his face forward, almost nuzzling it into your neck. You could feel him smirking against your skin. "I believe I remember you saying something about how you couldn't be caught off guard...?"

You were vaguely aware that you would normally be angry - furious - over whatever was happening here, but primal fear still controlled your brain at the moment, unable to feel anything but panic. You trembled.

"This is what I meant when I said you should be more careful," he muttered. "You think you're so capable and strong, but look at how easily I could trap you... I could kill you, right now, so easily."

Your body shook fiercely. You felt tears begin to gather around your eyes. "I-I just... Trust... You..." Your voice was weak, frail, trembling harder than your body. "You're, you're my, m-my friend..."

"Mm, plenty of people will come along pretending to be your friend, (y/n). You're very, very lucky that I actually do have your best interest in mind." Finally, he lowered the sword from your throat. You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in, and you felt your knees give way, stumbling forward, quite literally falling into his arms. He dropped the sword in order to catch you, and it clattered to the ground.

Your shaking hands grasped his arms, fingers digging firmly into his skin, desperate for some sturdy stillness to cling to. There was a moment of silence.

"You see, (y/n)? Think about all the people that wouldn't just be proving a point like I am... All the people that might want to really hurt you... Do awful things to you... Aren't you grateful I'm not like that?" His voice was deeper than its usual tone, and you felt his chest vibrate as he spoke from where your head was pressed against him. It was low yet soft, almost a growl, yet almost a whisper.

You were breathing rapidly, forehead pressed against his chest. You didn't respond.

"I said, aren't you grateful that I don't want to hurt you?"

"Y-yes," you found your voice. You didn't know what else to say.

"And you understand now... You need me. You need me there to protect you from bad people. You're so easy to trick and overpower... So naive... Imagine what could happen if you get into this situation again, but for real... And I'm not there?" He reached one hand up, stroking the back of your head. "Surely, you understand that now, don't you?"

You nodded.

"That's good. I hope you remember that, next time you try to run off." He tsk-ed, tilting his head to rest his chin on top of your head, grip on your shoulder increasing, almost crushing. "Honestly, you should really just be guarded full time. I could probably arrange that."

As you began to calm down, the reality of the situation began to dawn on you. Anger rose in place of the fear. He had the audacity to do something like this, and blame you for trusting him? You wanted to speak up, say something, but that same primal instinct told you it was a bad idea.

This time, you listened.

He gently shifted, setting you down on the bed. "Now, you really do look sick, truly. Tell you what, I'll just go see that bard in your stead, tell him you couldn't make it. We'll have to just figure something out. I'll tell the nurse to come down here."

"Wh-what?" You started to stand on your shaking legs. "No, I-"

"You really can't be going out," he grabbed your shoulders and firmly pushed you back. "Really. You'll just get worse. Better to recover faster, than prolong your illness, no?"

"I don't feel si-"

"You are sick." Once again, his smile was betrayed by the irritation in his voice. "Don't tell me you don't know about the Mondstadt influenza? No wonder. You're foreign, so you're probably highly susceptible to illnesses you've never encountered."

You'd been given a rundown of local illnesses by Lisa, actually, but didn't recall such a thing. "I've... Never heard -"

"You won't feel symptoms for several days after first showing signs. You're very lucky I'm used to seeing it." He pulled out a watch, eyebrows rising. "Oh, look at that. It's already time to meet the bard. I'll be back in a little bit."

"Wait-"

"It'll only be a few minutes. I'll be back soon."

"Captain Ka-"

"Get some rest now."

The door shut firmly. You heard his heavy footsteps quickly sprint down the hall.

A nurse never came. Ten minutes passed, half an hour. You thought about trying to go find her yourself. Maybe he was actually being honest. Maybe you were sick. You almost wanted him to be right. You would prefer being sick to the idea that he might be lying to you.

You preferred worrying about being sick to worrying about the implications and meanings of the situation if he was lying to you.

You finally stood, resolving to go find a knight yourself, ask for directions to the nurse. Something. Anything to get your mind away from this, distract yourself from your brain's racing to process what had happened just before.

The metal lock rattled against the wood as you tried and failed, with increasing desperation, increasing heartbeat, increasing rapid breaths, to open the door.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere kaeya #yandere genshin impact #yandere x y/n

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grumpyhedgehogs · 3 years

Text

Rose Colored Glasses

Summary: Ethan sacrifices everything for family. Then, with help from a familiar face, he moves on.

Notes: Just a little something brought on by me lamenting the fact that there aren't enough fics out there that just have the Winterses and Bakers being normal friends and family.

AO3

The third time Ethan dies, he wakes up warm.

It’s a large step up from the frozen wasteland Eveline greeted him in, but the process of coming back is still just as painful. This time, it’s not his chest feeling hollow or his ribs burning as they scraped together after being shoved into the cavity where his heart was supposed to be. Now it’s mostly a full body ache; for a moment, before his thoughts reorder into some semblance of sense, Ethan thinks wildly that he has the flu, that everything since Mia had finished making dinner had to be a fever dream. She made soup--maybe because he’s been sick? She was always better at noticing when something was wrong than Ethan was. She probably put him to bed after dinner, gave him a cold compress maybe, and he’d passed out and thought up the entire nightmare because of that stupid children’s story.

The ache eases, though, almost immediately, leaving behind the warmth sinking into his bones. Ethan sighs but doesn’t open his eyes. It was all real--he knows that. He died--again--and now he’s...somewhere else. But the air isn’t cloying in his lungs, and he doesn’t hurt anymore, and it’s so, so comfortable, so he doesn’t suppose he minds too much. Rose is safe, Mia is safe, even Chris is safe. Hasn’t he earned a little rest? Hasn’t he earned the right to close his eyes for a while?

Sensation filters back in gradually, and Ethan realizes all of a sudden that he isn’t wearing his jacket or hoodie anymore. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow. He doesn’t feel the heavy weight of his hiking boots on his ankles. His pants feel clean and unwrinkled, rather than stiff with bloodstains. There’s a constant pressure at his back holding him up, like lying on a brand new mattress. Then sound fills his ears; rain against a windowpane, his own soft breathing, the far-off sound of pots and pans and a stove turning on. His nose twitches when he smells something spicy and full-bodied, a good home-cooked meal. But Ethan still does not open his eyes. They’re too heavy. The ache has passed, but Ethan’s body is so very heavy.

Even when a hand passes over his brow, Ethan can’t seem to find the strength to open his eyes. The fingertips are square and blunt, the skin worn from hard work. The palm rests gently over his brow before moving on. Ethan thinks of Mia, running her fingers through his hair every time he’d get sick, and cannot keep in a tiny, miserable noise.

“Shh, you're alright, son,” says a familiar voice. It’s less rough now, less demented than Ethan remembers it. Kinder, definitely. “You’re alright now. You’ve gone through enough pain to warrant a little rest.”

Ethan murmurs incomprehensibly, even to himself, and drifts.

When he wakes again, he is still warm. It makes him sigh and settle before finally, finally, opening his eyes.

The room he is in is rustic, with old, worn carpets and wooden furniture. The bedframe is wood too, and his blanket a deep blue, obviously hand-knit. The rain still patters away at the window above his head, but it's gentle and calm. A pair of loafers he recognizes as his own wait at the foot of his bed.

Sitting at his bedside, his glasses slipping halfway down a sloping nose, is Jack Baker.

“Hello, Ethan.”

“Hello, Jack.”

Ethan sits up, scrubs a hand through his hair and over his eyes. A phantom pain twinges through his wrist and he hisses, but it’s gone the next second. Jack hums and nods. “You’re feelin’ some pain?”

“Just the old ones,” Ethan tells him, letting resignation drip from his words. Waking up to a dead man-turned-monster after his own death is just par for the course at this point. Somewhere between getting his hand chopped off by a monstrous version of his wife and realizing that Mother Miranda ripping his heart out was not, in fact, the first time he died, Ethan stopped trying to make the world make sense. Jack Baker waiting for him in the afterlife? Fine. Sure. Why not?

“That’ll happen for a while,” Jack tells him, still gentle as a lamb. “The older they are, the more the pains stick around. They’ll leave you eventually. Just takes some time.”

Ethan nods and swings his legs out of bed. He looks up, considering, and at the openness of Jack Baker’s face, quirks the corners of his mouth up. “This is it then, huh? This is the end.”

Jack smiles too, wider than Ethan thinks he could manage. “Don’t know ‘bout that--but this is what we have for now. Reminds you of old times, huh?”

“Just not the good times,” Ethan says.

“No,” Jack agrees tiredly. “Not the good ones.”

His companion is silent as Ethan slips on his shoes and, after another pause, clumsily folds the blanket he has been given. Afterwards, he has to admit he can’t prolong the inevitable any more. “What are you doing here, Jack?”

Jack seems to take him at his real meaning, take his words for what are you doing here with me, Jack? “You remember what I told you the last time we saw each other, son? What I asked you to do?”

“‘Free my family.’” Ethan repeats. Those words have haunted him for longer than he’d have thought possible. All that death and the blood resting squarely on his hands--could it really be labeled as freedom?

Jack leans forward and, telegraphing his movements, slowly places his hand over one of Ethan’s. His fingers are square and strong and soft against Ethan’s reflexive fist. He finds himself relaxing far more quickly than he’d have expected. “You did as I asked you, Ethan,” Jack tells him. “Even though it pained you, even though it was the most difficult thing in the world for me to ask of you, you helped us. You didn’t have to.”

Ethan stares at him blankly. “Sure I did.”

“Oh?” Jack smiles, leans back and crosses his arms. His rocking chair is more stable than the one they’d had Eveline’s old body stored in back in Dulvey. It creaks with his movements. “You could’ve broken a window and run for it. You found your wife and could’ve gone off into the woods instead of facing Eveline. But you stayed, and you helped, and now we’re here instead of stuck in that mold.”

“Well--but--it wasn’t like I had a choice--” Ethan tries, his tongue feeling thick and strange in his mouth. No one has ever actually sat and talked with him about what happened in Louisiana, never acknowledged what he’d had to sacrifice before Ethan himself brought it up. Even Mia shied away from it. Taking a deep breath, Ethan tried again. “It was just the right thing to do.”

“But you did it, Ethan. No one else. So thank you.”

And well, that is true, so Ethan keeps his mouth shut. He shrugs, feeling awkward and embarrassed and not sure why. Jack Baker takes pity on him after a silent moment. “Since you helped us, we decided to wait for you. To make sure y’all are safe and sound when it came to be your time.” Jack looks over the rim of his glasses at Ethan, and for a second Ethan feels like a little boy about to be scolded. “We thought it would be quite a while before you showed back up, son.”

Ethan snorts. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Don't see why you should apologize for saving your daughter. There is nothing disappointing about you, Ethan.”

That warmth increases in Ethan’s chest. “Who else is here? Marguerite?”

Jack nods and softly claps his hands on his thighs. “She was fit to be tied when you showed up so unexpectedly. She’s downstairs now, getting some supper ready. We figured you’d be a bit peckish.”

For how well his last dinner with the Bakers went, Ethan feels considerably less apprehensive at the smells wafting upstairs. “What about Eveline? Lucas?”

“Lucas comes and goes,” Jack tells him. “He’s--he’s Lucas. It’s been harder for him than the two of us. He’ll come around.”

Ethan privately thinks that is the absolute last thing Lucas Baker will ever do, but keeps it to himself. “Eveline?”

“Nowhere we can see.”

He thinks of the cold, the snow, the mud and dirt and loneliness he woke to when he died at Miranda’s hand. “She probably doesn’t like company these days,” Ethan mutters.

If he hears Ethan’s comment, Jack doesn’t react. He stands then, and cracks his back, letting out a loud groan. Ethan smiles a little more at the humanity in the action. This is who Jack must have been before--well, before everything. Perhaps, if he and Mia had met them under different circumstances, they'd have been friends with the Bakers. Perhaps neighbors. Perhaps they’d have let the Bakers babysit Rose once in a while.

“Zoe is the last one we’re waiting for,” Jack says. “She won’t be here for a long while, God willing. You’re welcome to wait with us for as long as you like, of course.”

“I’ll need to stay for Mia and Rose.”

“Of course. Would you like some company?”

Ethan blinks before taking Jack’s offered hand, letting the older man pull him to his feet. “You’d wait with me? Even if Zoe comes first?”

Jack claps a hand to Ethan’s shoulder and lets it rest there, warm and reassuring. “For as long as you’ll have us, Ethan, it would be our privilege.”

The gorge in his throat swells, his face grows tight and his eyes prick. “Thanks, Jack.”

Jack inclines his head and leaves the words hanging in the air between them, comfortable and knowing. As he turns to lead Ethan out of the room, Jack pauses. “Oh, you got any good stories about little Rosie? I’m sure Marguerite would love to hear some. Been such a long time since we had a baby in the house.”

Ethan smiles, and nods, and lets the warm glow of the home beyond his doorway guide him out.

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

VIII. Wanting

Pretend You Don’t See Her! Masterlist

Pairing: Mob!Sebastian Stan x Fem!Reader

Words: 3408

Warnings: A hint of angst. Some swearing. Longing glances and touches. Shameless flirting. Smut. Dom/Sub dynamic if you like squint. Rough-ish sex.

A/N: HAVE SAFE SEX PEOPLE. WEAR A CONDOM PLEASE. And let me know how I’m doing in the comments. Only two parts left!! Thanks and enjoy :)

Returning to the lounge was, to say the least, an odd feeling. You were in Chris’ place for what, three, maybe four, days? You weren’t sure what Sebastian was thinking most of the time. It was obvious things were far from normal but you expected him to be a little more open, more loose, around you after your conversation and...the time you spent with him in the bedroom. But he didn’t push you to do anything else after that. As a matter of fact, his touches remained innocent and light, as if he didn’t fuck your brains out days before.

When Chris came back and saw the two of you, he instantly knew what happened and teasingly told Sebastian that he would have to pay for someone to fumigate the room. You turned away and pretended you weren’t listening to the two men talk about you as if you weren’t right there.

Once they figured out how to deal with who you now knew as Felix, they turned to you and asked if you had ever seen anything suspicious from any client or employee in the lounge. You told them you kept your head low most of the time and spoke when only spoken to, smiling shyly at Sebastian when he grabbed your hand and placed it in between his.

“I wish I could be more helpful, I really do. It’s just- I’ve learned not to pay too much attention to customers, it makes things easier.”

“That’s alright Y/N, you have nothing to apologize for. Believe it or not, you’ve already done so much. Now we know how far Felix is willing to go. He wanted to play dirty so-”

“And that’s all that matters.” Sebastian cut Chris off and narrowed his eyes at him, a gesture which you’ve come to learn meant for Chris to not say anything else. Chris sighed deeply before standing up and heading towards the door. “I’ll see you guys in a few hours then?” He asked and you turned to Sebastian just as he nodded at him.

“I’ll drop you off to get a change of clothes.” Sebastian said right before moving to the other end of the couch and grabbing his jacket.

“But I- I thought that you’re not supposed to be in that part of the city?” You weren’t sure what Sebasitan was playing at and you had a feeling he was being purposely stubborn to prove a point to the other man.

“If you think I’m leaving you for another second after what happened, then you’re sorely mistaken. I got you into this mess and I sure as hell won’t be leaving you to face the consequences by yourself.” Sebastian’s tone was harsher than he liked but he needed you to know that he wouldn’t be leaving you. You were too important.

“I’m sorry, for causing all of this. The last thing I expected when I came for the job is to be such a burden.” You looked away when you saw his eyebrows furrow even deeper, moving towards the stairs to change when suddenly, a pair of strong arms were wrapped around you, pulling you roughly towards his chest and tightening when you tried to turn around in his arms.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me sweetheart. I don’t regret a single thing when it comes to you. Not a single moment.” You managed to turn your face enough to look at him, barely managing to nod before Sebastian was leaning forward and softly passing his lips over yours. You moaned into the kiss, melting against him as his hand moved from your waist to your neck, not squeezing but just holding you there so he could deepen the kiss. When he felt your hand reach back and scratch his neck, he growled before instantly pulling away, knowing very well that if this continued, he’d be balls deep in your sweet cunt until you were begging him to stop.

“Fuck,” Sebastian swore and forced his eyes to look away from your flushed face and your messy hair. “Go on baby, get dressed. I’ll be waiting here.” He gulped and fixed his hair, turning around and heading to the kitchen so he wasn’t tempted to pull you towards him and pin you into the couch.

You nodded before making your way up the stairs and trying to distract yourself from how intense Sebastian was. Quickly getting dressed, you came back down and saw Sebastian waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. He stretched out his hand and smiled at you, his lips curling to his ears when you took his hand and squeezed it.

He didn’t let go of your hand once as you drove back to your place. There were occasional longing glances and soft smiles but neither of you said anything, basking in the comfortable silence of the car. When you were close to your place, Sebastian momentarily let go of your hand and reached into his glove box, throwing you an apologetic look as he reached for the two guns, quickly shoving them into the holster beneath his jacket and clearing his throat to break the suddenly awkward silence. You shook your head and reached over for his hand, turning to the window as you brought his hand to your lap and drew lazy patterns on it. If Sebastian was surprised by your reaction, he didn’t show it, smiling to himself because you weren’t lying when you said that you weren’t afraid of him.

As he pulled up near the building, he raised your hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” There were so many hidden confessions behind his words and you nodded at him. Sebastian walked out of the car and around to your side, holding the door open for you as his eyes took in his surroundings to make sure there wasn’t anyone around. Placing his hand on your lower back, he led you towards the gate of the building and stayed close behind you as you unlocked the door and walked in. As the two of you ascended the stairs, Sebastian thought of an idea and hoped you wouldn’t turn him down when he did ask you.

Minutes later, you were walking into your apartment and telling him to make himself at home.

“It’s not much but- well, this isn’t your first time here.” Sebastian could tell you were a little uncomfortable that he was here and he hovered at the door once he shut it.

“I was thinking,” Sebastian started and let his eyes roam more freely, watching as you grabbed some clothes from the closet before moving into the bathroom, “why don’t you pack everything you need and stay with me.” He was met with silence and realized he may have crossed a line. When you came out of the bathroom a second later, hair tied back in a ponytail and shirt half-buttoned, Sebastian cleared his throat and stepped towards you.

“I want to protect you and I can’t do that if you’re here. You don’t have to decide now but I’d-” He didn’t like what he was saying but he also didn’t want to seem overbearing or controlling.

“Okay.” You cut him off, buttoning up your shirt before leaning forward and kissing his cheek.

“Okay?” Sebastian was surprised at how quick your decision came, following you to the bathroom and leaning against the door as he watched you freshen up.

“Yeah. I mean, I feel like I’m intruding already but it’s not like I’ll be staying in your room or anything.” You continued and wiped your face before grabbing the skirt and pulling down the pants you were wearing. Sebastian turned around immediately, eyes widening at how comfortable you were with him.

“Would...would that be such a bad idea though?” He shut his eyes and thought back to when he had you writhing underneath him, hoping the question wasn’t too forward. When he heard you laugh at him, he turned around and narrowed his eyes at you because he wasn’t trying to be funny.

“Sorry it’s just, you’re asking me to move in with you and maybe into your room, yet you’re turning around when I change...even though you’ve already seen me. I mean it when I say I don’t want to intrude, you should feel free to take any calls without me breathing down your neck. It’s your home after all. And I’m apparently making you uncomfortable by changing around you so-” Sebastian chuckled at your blunt response, clenching his jaw as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You aren’t making me uncomfortable babe, you’re making me hard. And you’re making it really difficult for me to not bend you over this fucking counter and fuck you until everyone in this goddamn street knows who’s making you feel good.” There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and you tilted your head to the side before stepping towards him, balancing your weight on his feet and leaning up so you could meet his height. As he felt your fingers dig into his chest, he found the fabric of his pants tightening around his crotch.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that idea.” You whispered into his ears before stepping away and zipping your skirt, taking one last look in the mirror before slipping past Sebastian and smiling when he didn’t bother hiding the tent on his pants.

He remained standing where he was, waiting until you collected everything you had, which wasn’t much, and moved to the front door. He took a deep breath before moving past you and down the stairs, not bothering to say anything else because he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last teasing remark you’d throw at him.

An hour later, you were back in the lounge serving tables and moving through the growing crowd. You thought it wouldn’t be as busy following the events of the other night but it was somehow bustling with energy. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before Chris showed up again and asked how you were doing. You told him about Sebastian’s offer and watched as he smiled before looking at his boss sitting at the end of the bar.

“Fucking finally,” he winked at you before moving towards the table, and you could tell instantly that he was already teasing Sebastian about you because not a second later, Sebastian was narrowing his eyes at you and shaking his head. You pretended you didn’t know what was happening and shrugged your shoulders, walking back to the bar and waiting until the song playing on the stage ended before making rounds again. Sebastian left shortly after and you spent the rest of the day moving between the second floor private lounge and the bar, not taking into account how late it has already been.

When your shift came to an end, you moved to the private rooms in the back and threw yourself on one of the couches to rub your feet. The door slammed open not ten minutes later and in came Chris, face turning a deep shade of red as he headed towards you.

“What happened?” You stood up and braced yourself to hear the worst.

“Shit...I can’t tell you right now but- fuck okay I’m sorry I have to ask this Y/N but I think you’re the only one that can manage to calm him down. I’m pretty sure if I let him out of this building he’ll do something he’ll regret later. Can you go to him, please? It’s not your job I know but-”

“Where is he Chris?” You cut him off, putting your shoes back on before heading towards the door,

“In his office.” Chris watched as you made your way down the hallway and passed the two guards who instantly let you through to him.

Standing at his door, you raised your hand to knock but realized he would probably think it Chris or Tony and would lock it instead. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and stepped in, eyes taking in the state of his office. Whatever happened must have been really bad because there were papers everywhere, and a dent in the wall.

“For the last fucking time, get the fuck out-” Sebastian came out of the bathroom ready to punch someone, not expecting to see you standing in the middle of his office. You saw his fists clench at his sides before he turned away from you. There you were again, seeing him at his worst of moments.

“Seb,” you slowly moved towards him, not caring about his space as you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your cheek in the middle of his back.

“Y/N, please.” You could tell he was politely asking you to leave but you recalled what Chris said earlier and knew you that the least you could do now was return the favor and distract him long enough for him to calm down.

“I’m here. I’m here with you Seb, let me help you. Please, let me.” Your hands slowly moved down his chest, resting at his belt buckle and playing with the leather in hopes of distracting him. Sebastian was trying to be a gentleman, but the touch of your skin was driving him crazy and he suddenly snapped, turning around and pushing you against the wall. He wished he could see fear in your eyes, perhaps reluctance in your touches, but he only found acceptance and...no, he couldn’t get carried out.

“I won’t be gentle.” He hoped his warning would snap you out of your haze and send you running but instead, he had to watch as you slowly strip, allowing the clothes to pool at your feet. His eyes roamed your skin and he bit his tongue when he saw the garter belt stretched across your thighs. You must have put it on sometime during the day because you were definitely not wearing that in the morning.

“I’m not looking for gentle.” You snarked back at him, smiling for a moment before you felt him grab your upper arm and turn you around until your chest was flush against the wall. He pushed your face against the cold wall and dragged his hands down your back, standing right behind you and biting your shoulders until you were pushing your ass against his crotch.

“Come on Seb, don’t you wanna fuck me? You’ve been so hard all day long baby, I know. I’ve seen you looking at me, undressing me from across the room...eyefucking me every time I walked past you.” You giggled when the hold on your waist tightened

“Don’t push me darling!” He growled in your ears, the faint sound of his zipper going undone letting you know his patience wore out and your teasing was only edging him on. Leaning down, Sebastian grabbed the back of your thigh and lifted it up until your foot rested on the couch. He kept his hand there and bucked his hips against your ass, smiling against your skin when you sighed and threw your head back against his shoulder as soon as you felt his cock slip in between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you reached behind you and grabbed his dick, finding it hot and heavy and pulsating in your hand as you worked him against your skin. “You’re gonna fuck me Seb? Fill me up with your dick until I’m screaming your name?” You moaned against him, your giggles dying down as soon as you grabbed his tie to bring him closer to you. As he breathed against your cheek, you led him closer to you, nudging aside your panties before slowly inching his cock into your wet heat. Sebastian shut his eyes tightly and held his breath, waiting until you fell forward before grabbing your hips and slamming into you. You cried out, pulling on his tie harder as he pulled out and thrust back in. Your lips parted, and Sebastian watched in awe as you took his brutal pace without a single complaint.

True to his words, he was not gentle, as far from it as he could possibly get. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein with every pass of his cock against your walls. It was addicting, the little groans and sighs he was breathing against your ears. At a particular thrust, you cried out his name and felt your knees give out. Had he not been behind you supporting your weight, you were sure you would have fallen to the floor. You vaguely registered the filthy sound of slapping skin ringing through the room, smiling to yourself when you realized the two men standing outside could probably hear everything happening in this room, from Sebastian’s grunts to your little prayers of his name to the quick and harsh sound of his hips slapping against your ass.

You managed to turn around enough to look at him, finding his hair disheveled and his shirt crinkled from exertion. When his dark blue eyes caught your own, you swore you saw something else shift inside him, as if he was trying to tell you something but couldn’t find it in himself to voice it out loud just yet.

“So good baby, you f-feel so good...oh god, Seb please…” The wrecked sounds you were breathing against him broke Sebastian out of his angry haze and he found himself unable to deny what he was feeling anymore.

He had fallen in love with you.

“Cum for me,” he hissed against your lips, swallowing your moans as he reached around and pinched your clit. You dug your nails into his neck, finding the desperate plea incredibly sexy and before you knew it, you were falling over the edge, the scent of him filling your senses until you couldn’t think of anything but Sebastian.

His fingers rubbed furiously at the hardened nub, and your walls continued to flutter violently around him until you couldn’t take it anymore, shaking in his arms and screaming his name as he forced another orgasm out of you. Watching you come undone in his arms triggered Sebastian’s own pleasure and he leaned over and bit your shoulder harder than he intended, coating your inner walls with hot strings of cum until he could feel some leaking down his cock. He lazily pushed inside you a few more times until he couldn’t feel his knees anymore.

Reluctantly stepping away, Sebastian wrapped his arms around you to pull you along with him as he fell to the couch, sighing in relief when you nuzzled into his chest and rubbed his chest soothingly. You spent a few moments in silence, basking in each other’s warmth before you felt Sebastian grab your neck and crane it towards him.

“Thank you...you didn’t have to do that but-”

“I wanted to. Believe me, I’ve been wanting to for a couple of days now but you...well, you weren’t really showing any interest so…”

“I can’t get you out of my mind sweetheart. I wanted to as well, probably more than you, but I didn’t want to scare you by how much...fuck, how much I wanted you over and over again. Can’t get enough of you baby.” Sebastian’s admission stirred something in your chest and you raised an eyebrow at him before moving to stand up. He watched as you put your clothes back on, tucking himself away and hoping he didn’t step over any line with what he said. When you came back to him and pulled his tie until he sat up, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before moving to the door.

“In that case, why don’t we finish this back at your place?” Sebastian felt his cock stir at your question, eyes widening in anticipation as he stood up and grabbed his guns, putting them back in his holster before pulling you along with him. You smiled embarrassingly as soon as you walked out of the office, almost laughing when the two awfully large men blushed at Sebastian’s glare.

Chris was sitting near the entrance when he saw the two of you leaving. One look at Sebastian’s facial expression and your smile and he knew the crisis was averted. For now at least.

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#Mobster!Sebastian Stan #Mob!Sebastian Stan #Mobster!Sebastian Stan x reader #Mob!Sebastian x reader #Mobster AU #Mob AU #Sebastian Stan x reader #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #Sebastian Stan Smut #Mobster Sebastian Stan AU #sebastian stan

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wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years

Text

missing peicies

sigh, you hurt me Anon

Bakugou x Reader

warnings: Angst, swearing,

words: 1,400 (about)

summary: you’ve been putting up with Katsuki for as long as you can remember, and you might just be at your wits end.

“You must have loved me a lot,” Katsuki said softly. You smiled tiredly at him. It seemed like all your smiles were tired these days.

I did, and I still do, you wanted to say, but you knew that would go over poorly. Katsuki still flinched at any outward signs of affection, it was only recently he started sharing the bed with you, although he wouldn’t hold you and if you reached for him in your sleep he would leave.

That’s where you were now, in bed together, your body curled in on its self squarely on your half of the mattress. It killed you that you could only look at the man who used to be your husband.

“What makes you say that?” you asked, matching his quiet volume.

“No one’s ever staid with me before,” he admitted. “I push people away, I’ve pushed you away and you’re still here.”

“of course,” you murmured. As if leaving was even an option for you. Katsuki was your whole world, you didn’t just give up on your whole world.

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t be pissed if I walked away now,” you laughed and his mouth twitched up in a half-smile. He didn’t deny it. What little lightheartedness you had managed quickly vanished as a thick awkward silence set in. your heart lurched as you looked at him and you couldn’t help but wonder if things were reversed, would he still be here?

“Can I try something?” he asked.

“Sure,” you responded automatically. It was already late but if he wanted to do something come hell or high water you were going to see it done, anything to help.

Bakugou reached out slowly and cupped your face with his hand. You almost jumped feeling his warm callused hand touch you for the first time in weeks. He skimmed his thumb over your cheekbone and your breath caught in your throat.

You were going to cry if he kept this up, it has been so long since your husband had touched you. He pulled away and just like that your moment of bliss was gone.

“You must have loved me a lot,” he repeated, “and I must have loved you a lot too.”

Your house was littered with post-it notes. Little reminders for what Bakugou needed to do. How to put on his costume. Where you kept the cups and mugs. Not to leave the house without his keys.

The neon squares of paper littered every inch of your house but it didn’t bother you, much. Even if it was annoying to move the “turn the water cold or you’ll blow up the bathroom dumbass,” post-it every time you wanted a shower but he was your husband, how could you complain? You would do anything for Katsuki.

He always tried not to wake you when he left in the morning. And he always did. He wasn’t known for being stealthy and with his damaged hearing, even if he thought he was being quiet he usually wasn’t.

Your eyes fluttered open as you heard the door to the bathroom shut with a loud click. Katsuki was dressed for work and ready to leave.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” you croaked, your voice raspy from sleep. He jumped, surprised as he was every morning.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days dumbass,” he grumbled. Before adding affectionately, “I’ll see you when I get home, go back to sleep.”

You had been furious when the agency demanded that Bakugou come back to work. He wasn’t ready, you protested. He was still hurt and didn’t remember anything past his UA days, didn’t remember you. But he was fine physically and the world needed a hero like him. So he went back.

It was safe to say that this post-accident Katsuki wasn’t the Katsuki you married. In the begging, you were certain that he would get his memories back and everything would go back to normal. He wouldn’t flinch from your touch anymore and go back to wrapping you in tight bear hugs when he got home and pouncing on you pinning you to the bed just so he could hold you. You weren’t nearly as optimistic these days.

Even when he did remember things, it never made things better. He would just look at you for a couple of minutes while he tried to work things out. Then he would admit he remembered your first anniversary, but only bits and pieces. You could see how uncomfortable these memories made him. Like he felt guilty he couldn’t make you as happy as the old him did. Or, worse, guilty that he didn’t love you the way he used to.

You tried not to think like that, Even though this Katsuki was different, Much more reserved and stuck in his own head, He was nothing if not blunt and brash if he got sick of you he would tell you, and if he wanted you out of his house he’d kick you out without a second thought. Spouse or no Spouse.

So you put up with the awkward distance, and the sticky notes, and the staring, Because you still loved him, and even if you’d given up on the idea of things going back to normal, things could still get better. And you were willing to work for the better.

You cooked that night, even though your husband did come home early tonight as promised, he was far too tired to cook, and his head hurt, his head always hurt, so you shooed him into the bedroom promising to wake him when dinner was ready.

You’d been a terrible cook before you met Bakugou. You had just started dating when he found out you were living on ramen and hot pockets. He had found that unacceptable and taught you to cook.

“ Smells good,” Katsuki commented coming into the kitchen, scratching his stomach. You frowned.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” you accused pointing at him with your laddel.

“Don’t tell me what to do, I’ll sleep when I want to sleep,” he snapped. You could still see the lines from his pillow on his face. It must have been a really good nap. Katsuki brushed past you to the radio, flipping through his CDs before picking one and playing it. Of all things, soft piano music filled the kitchen.

You quirked an eyebrow up in a silent question. Katsuki plucked the ladle from your hands and put it to the side guiding your arms around his neck while his fell to your waist. He pulled you into the middle of the kitchen and started pulling you around in slow circles.

“I still don’t remember our wedding,” he admitted, “but when I went on patrol today we passed a dance studio and- well I dunno how it works but I remembered some shit.”

You just nodded, silently listening.

“I was a shitty dancer right up until our wedding, I knew I was going to make an ass out of myself during our first dance if I didn’t do something, so I got my ass in a ballroom dancing class. Just so I could impress ya, did you know that?”

You shook your head no. “I just assumed you were naturally good at it like everything else.” he gave a bark of laughter at that and danced with you late into the night.

Days like that made you hate yourself. You hated it when Bakugou really tried and when he was sweet and soft with you. It would be so much easier to fall out of love with him if he wasn’t trying to be good to you all the time.

It was just too much to put up with. It was killing you to be stressed out all day every day worried about your husband and trying to help him. You hated yourself for thinking of Katsuki as a burden. But you did. And you hated the little feeling of hope you got when it seemed like he wasn’t in love with you either. But you did.

It was horrible of you to think of divorcing him, especially when he needed you most, but you couldn’t take it anymore.

Was it too much to ask for a husband that loved you? And was it too much to say that the husband that did love you, died in that accident?

#katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.02

10/19/2020

No Lies in a Marriage

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, language

A/N: As I said in the post earlier today, you’ll probably see updates for this story often right now because it’s at the beginning and I know where I’m going pretty clearly and how to get there and it’s kinda just writing itself for right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love writing this reader with Thor...but I think it’s just because I love writing Thor. haha If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You sit up most of the night after talking to David, staring out your bedroom window at the small plot of land you call your own.

Your belonging. The only true one you’ve ever had.

It’s a small inheritance, sure but it’s yours. Yours alone. A sanctuary from the feeling of emptiness that you’d once felt wishing for something that felt like home. It’s more than even some will ever have.

You’re lucky.

And now you have to leave it behind?

There’s no denying your own part in this mess. You’d been given a choice and you’d made it, believe this outcome would never come. Yet here you are, betrothed and fated to be Queen of Asgard.

David comes to help you pack because he knows that you’ll be wallowing.

In shock you pack just as asked, essentials only which means for you, only your clothing, your laptop, and a very small collection of books are chosen.

You have no pictures to take with you. No family heirlooms or sentimental possessions. You fit it all into one large suitcase.

Funny. As you pack, you can’t help but imagine the lives your nomadic ancestors had lived. Much like you in these moments as you pack what little you have of your life away; they must have left everything behind over and over in their search for their own belonging.

It only takes you two hours to pack once David arrives and together you lug the suitcase down your little hallway to the front door.

There, a beautiful Asgardian stands waiting, her eyes on your own foggy expression with slight concern as David joins her and they lapse into quiet conversation as you continue to space out, thinking about the life you’re leaving behind.

Really, if you’re honest, it isn’t much of a life.

Yes, you have your routine. This is your house. Your things. But aside from that, there’s nothing here. Nothing but independence and solitude.

That’s enough, some would say. Others would wonder what you do with all your time.

Why hadn’t you found someone to share this life with? Someone who could appreciate the coziness of this place with you.

“Are you ready?” The Asgardian asks, Brunnhilde, her voice smooth but stern, yet not unkind.

You turn to look at her, hair gathered up on her head in a large bun. She’s dressed for the Norwegian weather she’s come from despite it being significantly hotter here.

She’s not bothered by it. Or if she is, she hides it well.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No.” She smiles at you, cheek bones so rounded and pretty you almost want to stroke them because you’ve rarely seen anyone so beautiful.

All of the Asgardians are beyond compare when it comes to looks. Even those that are plain radiate a golden aura. Godlike. Thor’s is the strongest and he’s most certainly the most beautiful to look at.

You’d been too afraid to admit it to yourself before because you’d been so decided against marrying him, but Thor is by far the loveliest man you’ve ever seen. Ideal. He’s exquisite.

And you get to marry him. Which doesn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

Being chosen to marry Thor would be amazing, given the fantasies you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in since the day you met with him, if not for the fact that you know he’s in love with someone else. Someone who won’t marry him. Someone stupid, obviously.

And those fantasies you’d indulged in would never happen with someone else in his heart. So without that, all you have left is duty. Duty to Earth and its people, ensuring their safety and though you honestly don’t think Earth needs it, the assurance from the Asgardians that they will respect humans as the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Yes, the whole Queen of Asgard thing is a little daunting and will probably take over your life, so you can’t blame this mystery woman for not wanting to give up her own pursuits to take care of an entire people. To give up one identity for another? Yours is close enough to blank—your life nearly empty—that for you, this might not be such a great loss and yet, this leaves you wondering what this will do for you career.

Small as it is, you’ve had two books published. Limited releases with not much traction. Still, the accomplishment is your own. One you’re proud of.

Will you have to stop writing?

“There will be a dinner, to introduce you to Thor’s inner circle. Myself, Loki, a few others that serve directly under him.” Brunnhilde is saying, pulling you back to reality.

You look around, having zoned out so thoroughly that you hadn’t even realized you’d boarded a plane and taken off.

“The only one you’ll have to watch out for is Sif. She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s a little miffed about the whole marriage situation. From what I’ve heard, she’s had a thing for Thor since they were children. She’s a fierce warrior. Might want to avoid her altogether if possible. Asgardian women can be a little territorial.”

Lovely, another rival.

“So can human women.” You grumble, already hating the looks of what you suppose will be an onslaught of distractions for your future husband in the forms of beautiful women.

Brunnhilde quirks a brow, raising it high as she considers your words but doesn’t comment further.

“He’s never seen her as more than a comrade in arms. Or so he says.” She sounds unconvinced, but you recognize her attempt to calm you.

You stare, saying nothing more as your world is overturned.

“After dinner, you’ll spend some time with Thor. He wants to talk to you a bit. The wedding will be on Thursday. Thor’s idea. Full of himself, the idiot.” She’s smiling as she insults him, flipping the page of a magazine she’d grabbed from the pocket of the seat in front of her and you realize they must be close friends.

“Did he really pick me?” You wonder, knowing that her personality will only let her answer one way.

Brutally honest.

“Against all our recommendations.” She tells you. “Most of us were pulling for the Hungarian one. She had the schooling and the training. A little too eager for Thor, or so he said. And Loki. Loki was also in favor of you.”

“Loki?!” You gasp, remembering with great detail your chance meeting with the Asgardian prince.

“Oh yeah.”

Why would Loki want Thor to choose you? You weren’t exactly nice to him. Then again, you weren’t really mean either. Just…blunt.

More importantly, after the awkward conversation with Thor and his admission to marrying despite his feelings for someone else, his choice is the most confusing.

“Why did he pick me?” You plead. “Thor.”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight after dinner. I couldn’t tell you other than that he said he wanted someone real. Someone who knew what it’s like to be a normal person. Whatever that means.” Brunnhilde shrugs. “Normal is all relative. Odin, I need a drink.”

The plane ride is over too quickly and the ride to New Asgard even shorter. The village is large but not much larger than the town you’d grown up in. Plenty of houses and public spaces but nothing like a cityscape.

You’re surprised by the more modest choices they’ve made for their homes. Simple houses with wood siding and strong rooftops.

That is, most of the village is modest. Almost at the center of the largest grouping of buildings is a large multi-storied palace.

Just as it did the first time you saw it when you’d been brought for the meeting, you gasp when you see it, admiring the beauty of the structure bathed in afternoon sunlight.

It reminds you of an old Nordic home you’d seen online only on steroids. Four, maybe five stories? All roofs are tall and sharp, parts covered with moss.

Brunnhilde shows you into the main foyer, large and tall room that allows space large enough for people to stand and chat. Here she leaves you and David with a young Asgardian woman. She looks as if she can’t be more than seventeen but from what you know about Asgardian aging, she’s probably hundreds of years old.

She escorts you both to your new room, and you and David gasp at the sight.

Even though it’s smaller than the sitting room you’d been in when you met with Thor before, there’s a large bed immediately to the right, covered in luxurious plum and silver silk sheets. A large dark brown bear skin rug covers the center of the floor. To the left is an extravagant dark oak armoire, beside it a matching vanity with a low cushioned and backless seat.

On the far wall, between two sets of heavy wooden double doors that lead out to a balcony sits a desk and another seat with a black cushion, the same style as the vanity’s chair.

There’s a low hanging chandelier made of intricately twisted wood, reinforced with dark steel. The design of it makes you think there should be candles, but instead you find it furnished with small flame-shaped lightbulbs.

Along each of the walls are beautiful artworks, one of a singular mountain you’ve never seen on Earth. Another a golden palace with a sky of literal space above and behind it. There’s a smaller painting almost right above the bed and the likeness of it is so precise, you gasp again.

David follows your gaze with his mouth hanging open a little but then he chuckles. It’s a throaty sound as he turns away from you and moves further into the room with your bag while you deposit your purse on the bed, eyes glued to the painting.

“These Asgardians seem to be experts at everything.” David says, conversationally. “Their architecture, their music, their wits in battle. It seems even their art is exceptional.”

You’re still too busy staring to reply.

When David speaks again, he’s right beside you, voice dropped in volume.

“It must really look like him, to have you rendered speechless.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Just like him. Only now he has the eyepatch. He looks the same with two eyes. Less rugged but the same.”

“And he will remain the same, long after you’ve died, I think.” David admits.

“Yeah…” You swallow, looking down at the bottom of the frame.

The thought had only begun to occur to you when you’d been making your way through the city after Brunnhilde had confessed to being over a thousand years older than Thor and Loki.

“For Thor, this marriage will pass in the blink of an eye.” You sigh, feeling a little saddened by truth of that.

You turn around and sit down on the bed, resting your hands on your knees limply as you stare at the floor.

David squats before you, forearms on his knees.

“You’re serving a great purpose.” He tells you. “Ensuring the safety of the human race. You’re the white flag the Asgardians are waving. History will remember you, Y/N. It will not be in vain.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know I just…” Your head gives an involuntary turn towards Thor’s portrait, but you manage to keep yourself from looking. “He’s in love with someone already. And, yeah, I’d never thought about being with someone before. But now that I’m faced with it, now that I know I’ll be his wife—I don’t know that I don’t want him to like me.”

“He may come around.” David consoles. “You’re a pretty girl and nice, even though you bite.”

His teasing draw a small curve of your lips. The levity however is quickly lost at the prospect of your life stretched out before you, never knowing love as your husband covets another woman.

This isn’t what you’d expected. To be fair you hadn’t expected anything, but now the idea of being married to Thor knowing that he’d much prefer if you were someone else hurts you in a way you didn’t know had been possible.

This ache in your chest feels strange and vivid and unbearable.

Your tears flow. David sighs and reaches up to wipe your cheeks, pulling you in for a hug.

Taking his offered comfort, you hide your face against his shoulder, allowing yourself these few moments to really feel the anxiety and sadness this whole thing has brought.

“I’m sorry.” David tells you, his voice steady but sad. “I wish I could give you a better life. I know that this is not what you parents would have wanted.”

You pull back, shaking your head as you gather yourself. “No, David. You’ve been the most supportive person in my life. This is how it’s supposed to be. Otherwise, why would I have the ancestors I have, right?”

David sighs, reaching up to wipe at your cheek.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be truly suffering. Not like other people do. I’ll have a good roof over my head, food, money won’t be a worry. How many other people my age can say that?”

David’s gaze becomes skeptical and he purses his thin lips a little. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Fuck no. This whole thing is complete shit.” You argue, then laugh as David chuckles too.

“There’s that fighting spirit. Keep that fire, Princess, and you’ll find a way through this.” He says, and the way the word Princess rolls of his lips makes you feel the way you’d always thought you’d feel had your dad lived to be a part of your life.

“You say that like it’s easy.” You sigh.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door and it opens.

Both you and David shoot up to your feet as Loki walks in.

He’s smiling politely until he sees your face.

“I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” Loki wonders, as you quickly wipe away the tears left on your cheeks.

“No.” You shake your head quickly, voice thicker than when you arrived because of your break down. “No. Of course not. Come in.”

He doesn’t look convinced and his brow is furrowed as he looks you both over then stands with his hands behind his back. He looks neat and exotic wearing a pair of dark pants, a black top with embellishments in stunning emerald, a thin golden chain connecting each side of his high collar to the other.

“I’ve come to make sure that you find the clothing we’ve left for you.” Loki gestures at the armoire.

“I’m-I can’t wear what I brought?” You ask, pressing your hand to your chest, unintentionally sniffing.

“Tonight, you will meet with my brother’s court. It is a formal event that you must attend wearing slightly more traditional Asgardian garb.” Loki replaces his hands behind his back. “Brunnhilde has chosen something she thought would be your color. You have an hour then we’ll send your maid in to fetch you.”

You nod.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Loki asks again.

“You’re surprisingly worried.” You tell him, David moving to open the armoire and get a look at what you’re going to have to wear.

Loki’s face quickly shifts into a smile, his eyes averted as he nods.

“I hear you were the only person other than Thor who chose me.” You sit back down slowly, your hands softly skating over the cool silky sheets. “Why?”

“You were a breath of fresh air.” He admits. “Compared to the other candidates, you seemed the only one with her feet on the ground.”

Looking away from him you pinch the plum sheets.

“Is that why Thor chose me too?” You ask, knowing it isn’t the reason he chose you.

“Whatever the reason,” Loki begins, and his voice is stern enough to draw your gaze. “I’m certain my brother has nothing but honorable intentions. He’s always been the good one.”

“I think that’s true.” You nod, “He has always been the good one, if the stories are to be believed.”

“I make no excuses for who I was.” Loki assures you.

“But I think you and I both know that Thor’s intentions when it comes to me are anything but honorable.” You smile sadly. “I really hate lying. Let’s not lie to each other. We’re family, right? Or will be.”

Loki’s look remains somber, his eyes far away for a moment.

“You’re the right woman for the job. That is the truth.” Loki admits.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Loki nods. “One hour, your highness.”

His words give you a shock, and your left gaping at him as he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Well, that sounded strange.” David admits, “But not as strange as this dress. Well, perhaps strange is not the right word.”

You’re still reeling from the your highness as you get and walk to David that it takes your eyes a moment to process the sight before you.

“I am not wearing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t breathe in this thing!” You whine, hooking your fingers into the ultra-high neckline of your dress.

It’s more like a cage, this piece that goes around your throat and shoulders. It connects to a slightly see-through bodice with soft split threads lining the length of the dress, underneath the top, silver layer is a soft pink one that stands pretty against your skin. It gives the dress depth and offers a pleasant backdrop for the waterfall skirt as it fans out around your feet.

The lattice neckpiece connects to the dress’s neckline with four stiff wire connectors wrapped in the same silver fabric as the rest of the dress.

Your hair, your maid expertly gathered atop your head, shaping it to look as much like you as it can but also keeping it contained with several silver Celtic knot-looking clips. She’d added very little color to your face, telling you that Thor had requested you look as much like yourself as possible so that his court could see the real you.

Even so, you’re overwhelmed by what you see in the mirror as you pass a particularly large one as you and David make your way to the dining hall.

“Don’t fret.” David tells you, reaching over to stop your wringing hands. “Just be yourself. That’s why he chose you.”

“So, what you’re saying is to not be myself.” You nod. “Got it.”

David pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him. Your maid, Estrid, keeps walking a bit then stops leaving you both some space.

“I want you to remember something, Y/N.” David says, low and quiet so that only you can hear him. Well, he doesn’t know that Asgardians have better than human hearing, but whatever. “These people, they need you. They need you. More than you will ever need them.

“Without you, they might have to leave Earth because Thor will never turn against the human race. I don’t know why. We’re not that great.” David shrugs, and your mouth pops open as you breathe a pained gasp.

In this moment, with David’s helpful words, you’re provided with astounding clarity.

“She’s human.” You realize, eyes watering.

It happens so quickly, your breath catches, brain in a frenzy, hands shaking, sweating, your tears flow freely.

You’ve never cried so much in your life and you understand now that this will be your new state of being because what else can you do when you’ve knowingly given your life to a man who loves another human woman which only means that she will also only live for a short time and that means that Thor doesn’t have a lot of time with her so, of course he’ll want to be with her until the day she dies, because she’s the one he really wants to be with, and you’re just the tool to use so that he can stay here with her.

What kind of life have you fated yourself to?

“Your Highness?” Estrid asks, concern painting her voice as you shake your head, too panicked to speak.

David moves you towards the wall, pressing you against it to lean as Estrid moves closer to peek at you.

“Might I be of assistance?” She offers and David turns a smile on her.

“A glass of water, perhaps?”

Estrid hurries away giving you and David the hallway.

“Y/N?” He says, voice hard. “Breathe.”

You look at him, focus on the streak of white in his hair as it falls forward to hang across his brow.

It helps and you shut your mouth and breathe in deep through your nose.

He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls from it a white handkerchief. With gentle fingers, he coaxes your face up so that he can carefully wipe the tear stains from your cheeks. He takes a bit of the blush they’d put on you, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t either.

“What is it that troubles you? Tell me.” He urges you.

“Um…” You begin, chin quivering and making your voice shake a little. “…I-I-I don’t know how I’m going to be married to him when I kn-know that he really wants to be with s-someone else. I don’t know how…how…how…”

David sighs, shaking his head as he caresses yours. “Then you look elsewhere too. If he sees fit to be with someone else while you’re married, then you deserve to experience love too. Take a lover. Be discreet. No one will know and you will both get what you want.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” You half cry. “I mean, aren’t wives and husbands s-supposed to be faithful?”

David smiles, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead. “Then give him a chance to change his mind. If he doesn’t love you by the end of the year, then he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is. A downright dumbass.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone being with me when they don’t want to be.” You admit.

And David doesn’t need you to explain that this stems from living in the school, waiting for adoption only to never be chosen.

You’ve finally been picked, and this is what it’s for?

“Do you want me to come to dinner? I can insist on it.” He promises. “I’ll even make a scene.”

You shut your eyes and sob once, David pulls you against his chest and once more you hide your face against his shoulder.

Both of you hear her steps before you see her and yet, when you turn to accept your water, you’re frozen as you find yourself face to face with Thor.

He’s dressed beautifully, in black leather trousers, stitched with thick visible charcoal colored strips of more leather. His torso is covered in what you’d consider light armor. More leather pieces in deep gold tones except for the arms which are covered in metallic scales that shine under the hallway lights. His shoulders are draped in a floor length cape, black, thinner than the one you’ve seen him wear before.

A more casual cape, you suppose.

Both you and David are absolutely still, confused by Thor’s sudden appearance.

“I uh…” Thor looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he gestures behind him with his right hand, in his left a glass of water. “Estrid looked upset. She said you weren’t feeling well?”

There’s genuine concern in his voice and it surprises you enough to wipe away most of your worries for now.

“I’m fine.” You assure him.

David clears his throat. “I should go. I have my own dinner to eat.”

“No, please. Join us.” Thor rushes to invite him, gesturing back towards the dining hall again.

“No, no. Really.” David uses his hand to refuse, then reaches down to give your hand a squeeze. “Can I trust you to escort Y/N to dinner?”

Your heart swells for David, once again, the father you never had.

“Of course.” Thor nods, smiling at David before moving to you, seeing this as permission to move closer maybe? “I take full responsibility.”

There’s a twinge of bitterness in your chest, a rolling in your stomach as you see David narrow his eyes at Thor.

“I’m going to hold you to that, God of Thunder.” He threatens, and Thor seems to realize it’s a threat because he looks startled. However, he smiles and plays it off quickly, nodding. “Have a good dinner, princess.”

David gives your hand one more squeeze before leaving you and Thor to whatever awkward conversation you’re about to have.

Thor waits until you’re both alone in the hallway before he holds out the glass of water he’d brought for you.

“Have you been crying?” He wonders, voice soft and gentle. Deep too, it settles in your chest and makes you feel stupid for liking it.

“Just a little.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.” And that isn’t a lie. “And apprehensive.”

Also, not a lie.

“And I don’t trust you.” You confess, feeling no qualms about the shock that flits across his rugged face.

“What did I do?” He cries.

“You told me you’re in love with someone else who won’t marry you.” You sigh, taking a long drink of your water. “I’m not exactly excited to be marrying someone who already wants to be with someone else.”

Understanding shifts his expression and he nods, reaching up to scratch at the side of his chin.

“I’ll be honest,” He begins, offering you his arm as you lower your glass. “It was never something I expected either. After watching my parents love each other for many years, their marriage was something I hoped I could experience.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder for this woman you love? Convince your court! She’s human, right? I’m sure the Earth Ambassadors would be happy to have you marry any human.” You reason, still hoping to get out of this even if the only thing you hate about this now is the fact that he’s in love with someone else.

That fantasy marriage you’d painted for yourself has taken over your inexperienced brain and planted a seed within your heart and you feel like a fool for it.

“They were fine with it. Jane is not ready for marriage and I cannot force her to marry me if she doesn’t want to.” Thor laments, truly sounding sad about her refusal.

“Doesn’t she care that you’re marrying someone else?” You wonder, watching his expression as he begins to lead you towards the dining hall.

“In a way.” Thor nods. “She and I want to be together, but Jane is devoted to her work. She could not make the time for the obligations marrying me would entail.”

“Sounds selfish.” You observe, hating Jane a bit because she has what you didn’t know you wanted. Maybe not exactly Thor himself yet, but the love he has for her.

Thor says nothing for a moment, thinking probably. He stops walking and you stop beside him.

“I would not want her to give up her passions. In marrying me, Jane would lose her identity. Which is too important to her to give up. I could never ask her to do it.”

“Because you love her.” You agree.

“Yes.”

“Which is why you find it so easy to do it to me.” You explain, realizing it as you speak it. “Because you don’t care about me. Therefore, my identity has little value. To you.”

Thor’s speechless, staring at you as your own heart pounds. You don’t know where you conjured the audacity to say the words out loud as they came to you, but they’re true. Truer than even you know.

“I do care.” Thor argues softly, looking at your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“You don’t, Thor.” You shake your head, politely disagreeing.

“Yes, I do!” He argues, this time a little more heated.

“What do I do for a living?” You challenge and he stutters, thinking hard.

He furrows his brow, crinkly creases at the corners of his eyes as he ponders.

You observe it’s loveliness. Truly a creature of perfection even with the gold and black metal patch over his eye. If he cared about you, you might actually fall for him. If he gave two shits, you might be a goner.

“Your family left you an inheritance!” He points out, as if this is what you do.

“You don’t remember?” You ask, knowing the answer. “I told you when we met, though I only mentioned it in passing.”

“How am I expected to remember then? If you were not specific?” He retorts.

“If I’d been Jane, you would have remembered.” You tell him.

“No.” He disagrees. “I’m always this inattentive.”

You laugh once, shocked by his candor. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not! Ask anyone once we’re seated. They’ll all tell you that I never pay attention or listen. To anyone!” He insists, and you laugh again because he’s being sincere.

His gaze is slight shock as he looks at you, then it softens, and he chuckles with you.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask him.

“I don’t know.” He chuckles again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I suppose.”

This sobers you and your laugh dies off.

“Can I ask a favor?” You look at him, trying to read him like you’ve never tried to do so to anyone before.

“Of course.” He nods.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know that the likelihood of you loving me at any point in our marriage is nonexistent, but I really want to try and make this marriage work. I want it to be as real as possible.

“Which means I want you to be honest with me about everything. I don’t want any secrets. I don’t want to think you’re talking to or meeting Jane because you’re acting suspicious. If you have to see her,” And he seems to understand that you mean, if he feels like he needs to for his own sake, because he loves her. “I want to know that’s what you’re doing. Please, don’t make a fool of me, Thor.”

Thor considers you for a moment, absorbing your words as you wait for his response.

Instead of giving you what you want, he gives you a long head-to-toe. “I was right to choose this gown.”

He chose it?

“You look exquisite. Just as a princess should.” He admires. “Come, let’s go introduce you to my friends.”

As he pulls you towards the dining hall, your heart begins to pound again as nervous energy courses through your veins setting your limbs to white noise again. Tingly.

“They’re all very eager to meet the woman who will be Queen of Asgard.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You worry.

Thor chuckles.

“I’m right there with you.”

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #king!thor x you #marvel au #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt02 #thor odinson x reader

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17tetsuro · 4 years

Note

could u do fake dating headcanons where they slowly fall for u w atsumu, kenma & oikawa,, gn pronounces are fine :)

haikyuu boys slowly falling for you (fake dating edition) (gn!reader)

feat: atsumu, kenma, oikawa

warnings: fake dating, abuse of cliche tropes and commas and question marks, timeskip setting because im anything but creative, swearing

requests are open!

a/n: thank you for requesting this!! i hope you like it :D

atsumu

* you’ve been friends with him ever since high school and you watched his career grow

* youre both equally proud of each other n your friendship is built on mutual respect, trust and love

* you basically live in his apartment, with how much time you spend over there

* he would complain 24/7 about not having anyone to go to events with

* at one point you wanted to strangle him for never shutting up about it so you propose you go with him from time to time

* atsumu: “yeah, that was a setup”

* he KNOWS you’re drop dead gorgeous and everyone will be jealous of him that you’re with him (and you also look very good in formalwear, which he very much enjoys)

* and you get to have free food and drinks and also wear immaculate expensive clothes

* so,, you became his regular date for sponsorship events and stuff

* and you never really outright said you were just friends?? so you’re used to the media portraying you two as lovers but your close circle is aware that your relationship is platonic

* everything was going great until one of his sponsor company’s heir started hitting on you

* atsumu saw you flirting with the person and his mind went blank

* he,, he didn’t understand why he wanted to commit multiple crimes on the spot

* bokuto conveniently showed up next to atsumu at that moment

“hey, atsumu? why is your date flirting with them?” bokuto asked, suddenly appearing next to atsumu, which startled the latter out of his thoughts.

a better question would be why atsumu saw red at the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him that night. he tried his best to keep his composure, but it was hard when you rested a hand on the heir’s shoulder, leaning your head back while laughing.

“atsumu, are you not going to answer me? your lover is-“

“my what?” atsumu asked, attention now completely off you.

“your lover? is that a term you don’t like? i could say partner... significant other... or anything you want, really,” bokuto answered, apologizing.

“you- you think me and (y/n) are together?”

“aren’t you? what, with the way you look at each other i was convinced you two were like... high school sweethearts or something, who hate pda,” bokuto explained, while atsumu’s eyes trailed back to you.

“you think... you think they’d wan’ me?”

“are you blind, buddy?”

you must have sensed their gazes, because as soon as those words left bokuto’s mouth, your eyes snapped towards atsumu and bokuto. the latter started waving with a cheerful smile while the former just stood, entranced by you and your presence. atsumu noticed traces of confusion appearing on your face, and watched as you excused yourself from the conversation you were previously interested in.

“‘tsumu, are you alright?” you questioned, approaching the pair. bokuto grinned and left, which made you even more confused.

“yeah, i’m fi- fine. hey, uh, (y/n), say... do you- why did you offer to come to these events as my date?” atsumu asked, eyes dead set on yours. you cracked a confused smile. you seemed to be capable of nothing but confusion at the moment.

“because you’re my best friend and i hated to see you so down because of your loneliness at these gatherings,” you replied, holding his gaze. “why didn’t you oppose it?”

his eyes studied you and when he saw nothing but sincerity, he let out a loud sigh. this was all very new and confusing to him. it’s like bokuto calling you atsumu’s lover set off a bomb inside his head that instead of causing a mess, made everything fall into place; why his gaze seemed to linger on you more often than before, why he was so eager to choose your outfits for these events, why he went to parties he didn’t even have to attend, why he got so jealous and angry when he saw you with the cute heir.

“holy shit,” he breathed and ran his hands through his hair, letting out a nervous chuckle and lowering his gaze to the ground. “holy shit.”

“you look like you’ve been enlightened, and i love that for you, but ‘tsumu, i’m still very confused.”

“i’m in love with you,” he said in disbelief, and quickly snapped his eyes back to your face when he realized he said it out loud. “i- i mean- i’m not in love with you, no way in hell, you’re- you’re my best friend, you- you smack my head whenever i say somethin’ inappropriate, you keep me from underminin’ myself, you always lift my spirits and for fuck’s sake, please, stop lookin’ at me like that because i will be getting hopeful and if you’re just joking, i will never hear the end of it and-“

you finally hd enough of his rambling and cut him off with a kiss. at first he froze, but seconds later he melted into your embrace, hands sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

when your lips separated, atsumu gasping for air after his word vomit and the long kiss you shared, you spoke up. “miya atsumu, you’re a real dumbass, you know that?”

his breath hitched and you kept quiet for a second to let him suffer a bit.

“but you’re my dumbass. i love you, you absolute piece of work.”

atsumu honest to god giggled and leaned in for another kiss, which you gave him without hesitation.

somewhere in the room, bokuto was collecting the money sakusa promised to give him if he got you two to kiss.

kenma

* kenma and you are both twitch streamers with similar content so you knew of each other but weren’t properly introduced

* until one of your mutual friends invited you both to stream among us with them

* you obv accepted

* so during the 3 hr stream, you and kenma were imposters together a lot and had the biggest, most twisted imp plays

* a friendly competition broke out at one point, too, trying to see who exposed the most impostors between the two of you

* your fans ate your dynamic up

* from then on, you two interacted more and started to appear in each others’ streams

* kenma even invited you to his minecraft smp

* you became besties basically

* SO

* all fun and games

* and then a huge sponsorship opportunity rolled in

* and the people at the company assumed you were dating

* uh oh

* you couldnt just tell them they have it wrong bc the whole thing depended on your relationship

* so

* big brain kenma suggest you two start to “date”

* you were against deceiving your followers but kenma assured you you could have a public breakup and tell everyone you were better off as friends

* so you reluctantly agreed

* it was only for two months anyways, what could go wrong?

* both of you, on week 3, in separate discord calls: uh oh, im in l*ve

* you both tried to cope (read: repress everything) but the realization on both of your parts threw your dynamic off a bit and fans have noticed

* so you had to do something abt it

* so kenma suggested you try your hand at a minecraft challenge together

* it was all fun and games until it wasnt

* you somehow ended up flirting back and forth ????

* chat was goin crazy, even in sub only mode

* both of you: ha ha im in danger

* when the stream ended, you stayed on call, because that was a routine you stuck to no matter what

“so... how are you doing?” you asked kenma, trying to clear the awkwardness from the air.

“good.”

maybe you should have taken kenma’s refusal to talk about anything into account when initiating conversation.

kenma, on the other end of the call was anxiously playing with his fingers, trying to figure out if his chat was right, and you were indeed flirting with him. and him with you. god.

“hey, y/n,” kenma said after a while, “were you flirting with me?”

his bluntness startled you and you had to mute yourself for a few seconds while you collected yourself.

“is there a correct answer?” you asked hesitantly.

“yes.”

“oh... uhm, maybe? it wasn’t intentional. or maybe it was, subconsciously, i don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

“good. it was intentional on my part, i think,” and okay, that was not the reply you expected to hear.

“really?”

“yeah, i- i like you i guess,” he said, sounding more confident by the minute. “do you like me too?”

“i- yeah. i do. i like you, kenma,” you replied, sighing a breath of relief. it felt good to admit it aloud to him.

“do you- would you maybe want to come over?” he asked sheepishly, which made absolutely no sense because he sounded so confident a second ago. “we could play mario kart?”

you let the beaming smile you were holding back take over your face. “i’ll be there in 10, kenma.”

“i’ll be waiting for you.”

oikawa

* on god mans hated your guts

* like,, okay, you were iwa’s close friend but you were so annoyingly honest all the time

* it drove him mad

* what also drove him mad is the fact that you loved to tease him

* no matter what the circumstance, whether he was in japan or in argentina, you always found a way to make him blush

* okay so maybe hate is a strong word, because he kind of thought you were pretty, but in a platonic way

* dumbass

* iwa always give both of you shit for not liking each other

* so you came up with a big brain idea

* you: ”oikawa! we should date!”

* oikawa: “what”

* after you explained the concept of fake dating to him and its benefits (which included a staged dramatic breakup, giving you both a reason to hate each other without iwa complaining)

* he was totally down

* iwa, when he first saw you holding hands: “i knew it”

* SO!! thus began weeks of pretending to be in love with each other for the sake of iwa

* which turned from pretending to not pretending real quick for your liking

* falling in love with oikawa was not a plan of yours

* (falling in love with you wasn’t his, either)

* with iwa’s constant nagging of “i knew it, you both were head over heels for each other from the moment you met”, the time for the breakup came quicker than expected (maybe you both had enough. so what.)

* you agreed to do it in front of iwa so he could see it happen

* you chose a mcdonalds parking lot, because then you could storm off and iwa would follow you to make sure you were ok and oikawa could go home and sleep

* maybe winging it was not the best idea

“babe,” you said with venom, “haven’t i told you a thousand times that i do not want to hear about your exes? seriously, it’s like the only thing you talk about,” you complained, as your fake-boyfriend took a sip from his drink.

“well, babe,” his tone matching yours, “i would shut up about them if took the hint sometimes. maybe i don’t like going to the movies as much as you seem to, it’s boring,” he rolled his eyes, subtly glancing at iwa, who looked very uncomfortable third wheeling your argument. good

“jerk. i don’t even want to go to the movies that much, asshole,” you spat, crushing your empty cup in your hand.

“oh, you want to go to the movies plenty. face it, (y/n), you’re boring. no wonder you didn’t have a boyfriend before me,” he replied and his words, even though you knew were fake, still hit hard and you couldn’t help the tears gathering in your eyes.

“okay, then, thanks for these wonderful past few weeks, so glad you decided to take pity on me.” you tried to keep acting, encouraging yourself with the fact that if oikwa meant what he said, you wouldn’t have to talk to him if iwaizumi finally saw you two break up.

you expected a lot of things, but genuineness in oikawa’s eyes was not one of them.

“(y/n), i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that,” oikawa pleaded, clearly forgetting about your mutual goal.

with a mumbled whatever, you started walking home, letting the sunset wash over your face. when you knew you were out of sight, you sat down on a bench and just started crying.

you don’t know how much time passed, but you heard a voice behind you speak up.

“hey (y/n).”

“what the fuck do you want, oikawa? to rub in the fact that my first boyfriend was just faking it so his best friend would get off his back? leave me alone, jerk,” you said, trying to wipe your tears away.

“i- i didn’t mean it like that, please, believe me,” he replied, taking a seat next to you. you scooted away from him. he sighed.

“why would i believe you? why do you want to make up, anyways? this fight was pretty real, no way iwaizumi didn’t believe it,” you sniffed.

“because maybe... maybe i was very happy about the fact that i could be your boyfriend, even if it was fake. maybe i’m in love with you,” he said softly, leaning towards you.

“please, stop playing games. it’s over,” you replied, trying very hard to ignore the raw emotion in his voice as he spoke.

“i really am, (y/n). i wasn’t at first, i admit it, but now i am. i love you, please, believe me,” he begged and you finally made eye contact with him. eyes were mirrors of the soul, after all.

you studied his face for a few minutes, looking for anything that could indicate he was trying to pull a shit prank on you, but you found nothing.

“asshole. maybe i’m in love with you too, what would you do if i said that?” you asked, wiping your nose with your sleeves.

“kiss you.”

“do it, then, i guess. but you’re still not completely forgiven.”

“what do i have to do to earn your forgiveness, (y/n)?” he asked and you sent him a mischievous smile.

“take the blame for this whole fiasco with iwaizumi.” he froze at your words and visibly gulped, but nodded nonetheless.

“okay, i will. can i kiss you now?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah.”

and he did.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #kenma x reader

168 notes · View notes

nationalharryleague · 4 years

Text

Work of Art

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Artist!Harry, fluff, angst if you squint

Word count: 4K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my entry for @hsogolden ’s AU writing challenge! Check out their blog they are incredibly talented!!! ALSO, a MASSIVE thank you and shoutout to the lovely Miss Lu, @harrysgucciloafers!!! I could have never done it without her!! Thank you so much for reading and remember, feedback is so so so appreciated!!! You can also send requests to my ask anytime!! I hope you enjoy :) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist :)

***

Sleep was fleeting and you remained staring at your popcorn ceiling in your shitty apartment for longer than you would have liked. It was later than you would have liked when your phone buzzed and lit up the ceiling of your bedroom. Knowing sleep was still far off, you rolled over and examined the text from an unknown number, the bright screen blinding you in the process.

Hi, I was thinking of you today. I thought I would show you this piece that I made of you. Hope you’re doing well. Hx, attached was a slightly blurry photo of a beautiful painting of a woman.

The woman in the painting was made up of beautiful bright colors, her skin a mix of green, blue, and purple tones. Her eyes were a bright and captivating cerulean, standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her heart shaped face. She was young, looking to be only a little bit older than you.

The painting was captivating. It was crafted with such bright tones, using color blocking that blended the abstract with some elements of realism. It felt like someone poured all of their emotion and adoration or hurt (you couldn’t decide which) into it. You couldn’t decide if the artist loved or hated this figure staring back at you. One thing you knew was that whoever texted you was incredibly talented and had obviously dedicated so much time to this piece. You felt awful that it hadn’t reached its intended destination.

Um… Wrong number, you typed out, feeling a pang of sympathy for whoever ‘H’ was.

Oh… okay. Sorry to bother you., your phone screen lit up again.

Your art is beautiful, you quickly sent back, attempting to offer some sort of consolation to the mystery artist. Sorry I’m not who you wanted to talk to.

Don’t worry about it. Just looking for someone from a lifetime ago.

That last part kept you up for most of the night. You couldn’t stop thinking about what that could mean. Old friend? Estranged relative? Another artist? You let your mind dream up Oscar-worthy scenarios until you finally fell asleep.

***

“Please come to Scott’s art show with me,” Grace whined from across the table at your favorite coffee shop. Grace was your best friend from college and hadn’t figured out to get rid of you yet.

“You know how I feel about your shitty boyfriend and his shitty art,” you fired back. Scott was a pretentious “artist” who made “ironic” misogynistic sculptures and frequently “forgot” to pay Grace back for his share of rent. You hated his guts.

“I promise I’m going to break up with him soon. I just need to get to the end of the month so I get my money’s worth for rent,” she assured you. “By the way, I’m going to need some help moving out at the end of the month,” she mentioned nonchalantly. You let out a chuckle at her and playfully rolled your eyes.

“I will go to the show with you on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll hold my hand.”

A few hours later you walked into the modern and cold art show space, holding onto Grace’s hand for dear life, feeling unwelcome in this environment. Grace blended in easily, her bright blue hair and arms of tattoos suiting her well. The edgiest thing you had ever done was getting your nose pierced… until your grandma threw a fit and your mom made you take it out. You were not an artist and you did not feel welcome in the art community, or at least the type of artists that hang out with Scott. You worked in an office, you dressed plainly and simply, and you didn’t think there was anything special about yourself. You were strikingly ordinary, a sharp contrast from most other people in the gallery. You felt like an outsider because you were one.

Walking around the gallery, you hung onto Grace while examining and appreciating the artwork. You took careful steps, as if to not take attention away from the paintings on the walls and spent time examining each piece as you moved through the room. As you moved from wall to wall, your eyes fell on a strikingly familiar painting. The same girl with the bright blue eyes and the bangs stared back at you, the devilish smirk still playing upon her lips like she knew you had met before.

Releasing Grace’s hand, you all but ran up to the painting in question, trying to take in all the details that didn’t translate over the slightly grainy photo on your phone. The painting took on a life of its own up close. The paint itself was layered thick and thin across the canvas creating a rough texture that made the girl come alive. You were half waiting for her to make eye contact with her captivating baby blues and start staring back at you. You felt like you could reach inside the canvas and hold the beautiful woman’s face in your hands.

“Do you like it?” a deep British voice asked after clearing their throat behind you.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” you murmured, still staring at the green and purple woman. It took you a moment to rip yourself away from her piercing eyes and look towards the voice, only to turn around and find an even more captivating set.

They were bright green and belonged to a tall, dark haired man that was breathtaking. He had chocolate brown curls that seemed to be sticking in every direction, like a purposefully perfect bedhead, and stubble that moved up his jaw and down his neck. He had plushy pink lips framing his bright smile and his two front teeth came down the tiniest bit too far. He was wearing a white tshirt that was painted to his fit body as it was a size too small for him, showing off his arms of tattoos, and a pair of orange corduroy flares. His ensemble was topped off with a pearl necklace. He arched a brow when your mouth hung open slightly, trying to take all of him in.

“The painting is gorgeous,” you eventually were able to spit out. “I feel like I know her.”

“I’m glad that I was able to create something so captivating,” he smiled at you. So he was the one that painted it, meaning he was the one who had texted it to you. After getting over the initial shock, you gave yourself an internal high five for having this guy’s number. “Harry,” he introduced himself, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand to shake yours. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back, debating if you should tell him that you had kind of met before. It felt creepy to tell him, like you were some sort of voyer on an intimate part of his life. “I love her. Can you tell me a little bit more about it?” you asked. You had to figure out if it was worth being creepy about.

“So did I,” he said with a light chuckle. “She’s someone that I used to know,” he elaborated looking over your shoulder, surely making eye contact with the woman. Maybe you were reading into it too closely, but you thought a flash of hurt passed across his features.

“Do you always paint mysterious people from your past?” you teased, wanting to break the slightly awkward silence and also willing to do anything to talk to him further.

“Actually, I’m mainly a landscape painter,” he smiled at the ground, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Looking back at Harry’s wall of paintings you realized that the girl was the only person on the wall, flanked by beautiful landscape paintings depicting all different areas of the world. You quickly picked your favorite, a monochromatic green scene of the Eiffel tower.

After you asked if he traveled a lot to paint, the conversation began to flow. You strolled around the mainly empty studio space, footsteps falling in sync, him teaching you about his paintings and you asking questions, desperate to learn anything you could from him and just wanting to hear that beautiful accent. You learned he grew up in Cheshire and moved to New York for school and never left, but he travelled to Europe often to see his family and to paint. He told you about how his ultimate goals in life were to have one of his pieces in the Museum of Modern Art and to find his soulmate. He was a hopeless yet hopeful romantic. He also had two cats, Evie and Stevie (the latter was obviously named after Stevie Nicks).

He was so beautiful. He had this magical twinkle in his eye that you just couldn’t get over. He looked like he was one of the sculptors’ in the room’s life work. He was just as much of a piece of art as anything on display in the studio.

When the crowd started to thin, Grace came and found you, still rolling her eyes from something stupid Scott had said, him trailing not far behind. “Hi my love,” she greeted you, kissing your cheek casually as always. “We were getting ready to head out but I can see you’ve made a friend.”

“Harry is the artist behind all these amazing paintings,” gesturing to the long wall displaying his artwork. “This is my best friend Grace,” you said, turning back to him. “And that’s her soon to be ex-boyfriend, Scott,” you laughed and pointed to him staring at a blank white canvas in the corner that was obviously not part of the exhibition.

“Wait,” he began, shaking his head and laughing, pointing accusingly between the two of you. “You two aren’t together?”

“What? No!”

“It’s just that you were holding hands for a while when you came in and then she called you ‘love,’ and then kissed your cheek,” he continued laughing, his cheeks a bright red. It was adorable. You felt your cheeks heat up just as bright red as his.

“Oh my god, no.” You broke out into a fit of giggles of your own.

“Well, in that case, would you like to grab a drink or something sometime?”

***

You decided to order a martini when you got to the bar the next night. You thought it would make you look fancy and you hoped it would impress your worldly date. You had put on your favorite red dress (the one that hugged you in all the right spots and hid the wrong ones), praying he would dress up like you did, and slid carefully onto the barstool. Bouncing your knee nervously, you sipped your drink slowly until you saw his well dressed figure enter the bar, making your heart skip a beat.

He was dressed in high-waisted wide-legged tan pants and a bright red cardigan printed with small white hearts that was held together in the front by a single button, leaving his chest and signature pearl necklace on display. His chest tattoos were now slightly visible, the faces of two swallows looking back at you, as well as what you thought might be some sort of antennae peeking up from his stomach. He also wore an award winning smile and shot you a wink when he spotted you from the entrance of the bar. Once again, he took your breath away.

“Hello darling,” he greeted you as he made his way over. You began to panic when he started leaning into you, relieved when his lips found their way to your cheek and quickly moved to the other. When he kissed your cheeks, it sent sparks through your body. Oh my god, he is so British, you squealed inside your head, unable to suppress your American excitement. “I like your color choice,” he smirked looking between your outfits of almost the exact same red. You could only hope your cheeks didn’t match as well.

“Great minds dress alike,” you remarked, earning a laugh from the gorgeous man in front of you. Turns out, your joke was enough to break the ice. Soon the conversation began to flow freely, without anxiety or trepidation, like you were a pair of souls reunited after lifetimes apart. You were two martinis in when you decided to break the news that the art gallery was not the first time you had spoken.

“I think I have to break something to you,” you giggled, everything seeming a little funny after a few drinks, “the art show was not the first time we met.” His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion so you decided to elaborate. “The night before the show you sent a picture of that painting to a wrong number, and that wrong number was me. I promise it was all a coincidence and I am not stalking you.” You held your breath while you waited a moment with bated breath for a reaction from him, but released the stress that had found its way into your shoulders when his smile returned to his lips.

“I knew you had more interest in Amelia than most people,” he chuckled. Amelia, you repeated to yourself, now having a name for the face of your mystery woman.

“When Grace dragged me to that studio and I saw her again, I just had to know more. But then I met you and got a little distracted,” you flirted, “accidentally” nudging his leg with the point of your stiletto.

“I’m glad I’m just a distraction to you,” he feigned offense, clutching his pearl necklace with the hand that wasn’t hanging onto his neat tequila.

“Meeting you tonight was actually just an elaborate ruse to learn more about your Amelia,” you sarcastically confessed, sending him back one of the winks he had been shooting you all night. Your wink wasn’t met with his typical laugh, but a slightly pained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You worried you had hit a nerve.

“She’s not my Amelia anymore. Actually, I don’t think she ever was,” he spoke gently, taking a sip of his drink and breaking eye contact for what felt like the first time tonight. Oh no oh no oh no, you began to panic in your head. What did this woman do to him?

“I once had an ex tell me they had cancer so I wouldn’t break up with them,” you offered, forcing a laugh and praying you could brighten up his mood again. Thankfully, it worked, bringing back the crinkles by his eyes that appeared whenever he smiled or laughed.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the night went smoothly. It was better than smooth actually, it felt easy and exciting. Harry made your heart sing and your stomach flutter. He was a perfect gentleman, walking you all the way home (even when he lived on the other side of the city) and even up to your apartment, insisting he needed to make sure you made it inside safe.

The pair of you were standing in front of your front door when he leaned in and pressed his blushed lips to yours. He tasted like the lime that sat on the rim of his drunk and smelled like shampoo and vanilla. Every hair on your body stood up on point and everywhere he touched you felt like your skin lit on fire; you never wanted this moment to end. He gently held your face and you could feel his lips turn into a smile as he pulled away, his beautiful green eyes meeting yours once again.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he breathed, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“I think we should do this again,” you said, still catching the breath that he took away.

“I promise you’ll be hearing from me soon. I already have your number,” he chuckled, still beaming. You watched as he walked down the hallway away from you, winking and blowing you a kiss before turning the corner. As soon as you entered the apartment, you slid down your front door, dizzy from the haze he had created in your head. You couldn’t wait to see him again.

***

After that night, you couldn’t believe someone like him kept coming back to someone like you. You insisted you were too boring for someone who had such an incredible personality and background. Yet three months later, he was yours and you were his.

You spent almost all your nights together, crammed into one of your small New York City apartments, wrapped in each other’s arms and hypothetically solving the world’s problems. You had learned in this time that Harry was incredibly intelligent and well spoken, no matter how long it took him to get his words out due to his slow cadence. In your conversations, you had come to the agreement that most of the world’s problems could be solved with a little empathy and that green was definitely the best color.

Tonight you laid naked in his bed, your head resting just above your favorite butterfly, and played with his fingers as you listened to him speak about postmodernism and how it rocked the art world. You didn’t understand a thing he was going on about but you loved to hear him speak, his voice vibrating through his chest and how he pulled on his bottom lip when he was thinking. You scanned the studio apartment from his bed, trying to pay attention but losing that battle. The floor was littered with finished and unfinished paintings leaning up against the walls and you noticed one familiar face you had grown fond of was missing.

“Where did your painting of Amelia go?” you asked when he took a second to breathe during his diatribe.

“I sold it,” he said curtly. You hadn’t talked much more about Amelia after that first night, the woman obviously being a sore spot, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened.

“Oh, okay. I liked that painting a lot,” you spoke cautiously, trying not to hit whatever nerve you had previously.

“It was nice, but I think she should haunt someone else now,” he said with a sigh. Haunt?, you thought to yourself.

“H,” you began, rolling yourself off him to look him in the eye, “can I ask what happened with her?” You held your breath, afraid you might lose him to the heartbreak again.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s long gone.”

“Harry,” you lightly scolded him by using his full name which you rarely did, thinking back to when you agreed not to keep anything for each other. With a sigh, he began to speak.

“I was with her for a couple months last year and when I look back at it, it was really messy. We fought all the time and kept a lot from each other. But I had my rose colored glasses on and I would go as far as saying I was probably in love with her. I was even looking for engagement rings.” You felt a pang of jealousy within you at the idea of Harry loving anyone else. “That was until I found out that she already had a husband.”

Your heart broke for him after your initial shock, resting your hand on his warm cheek in an attempt to soothe him. He didn’t seem sad recounting the story or at the mention of her like he was before; he was now dealing with the remaining hurt of rejection.

“I painted her while I was still really mad,” he continued. “My original plan was to send it to her husband and tell him what had happened. But I decided that three lives didn’t need to be ruined instead of one. And then I was just kinda stuck with the painting. I thought selling it was a good way to get her out of my life and it’s more productive than lighting it on fire,” he finally said with a light chuckle.

A lot made sense all of a sudden. You now understood why Harry always got a little jealous when he saw other guys looking at you. He would loop an arm around your waist and press a kiss to your cheek while he stared them down. He thought you didn’t notice but you always did. You also understood why he was so open with you about how much he cared about you. It was a good thing you were equally as obsessed with him.

“I’m sorry, H. You didn’t deserve to go through all of that,” you said softly after a moment, unsure of what else you could offer.

“It’s okay. We grow from our past,” he shrugged. “And if I hadn’t painted her, I wouldn’t have found you,” he smiled sweetly, pulling you back into him and pressing his lips onto yours.

***

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing?” you giggled when Harry asked you to close your eyes.

“I have something to show you. Please close your eyes,” he asked again.

“What if I don’t want to close my eyes?” you teased, poking the dimple in his cheek caused by his cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes and began his plea again.

“Close your eyes, please. Do it.”

You gave in this time, closing your eyes and letting your heart flutter in anticipation. Harry knew you loved surprises and often took advantage of that fact. You felt him gently rest his cupped hands over your eyes, obviously not trusting you to not peak (he probably shouldn’t). He pressed himself to your back, urging you to make your way further into his apartment.

“Styles, if you let me walk into something, I swear to god,” you continued your giggling, overcome with excitement. Harry mumbled an ‘Oh, hush,’ in your ear before he stopped you both and lifted his hands away.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took it in. The painting was in Harry’s signature style, layered bright colors and varied textures across the canvas. Staring back was your own face, painted in a bright red monochrome with the exception of the color of your eyes that remained the same. You were posed with a bright smile that crinkled the skin by your eyes and you were wearing the red dress that you had worn that first night at the bar.

“Harry, oh my god. It’s so beautiful,” you managed to get out, still in shock.

“I know you don’t think you are, but are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world to be my muse.” You felt as if you could explode or melt with the amount of love you had for this man. You held him up on such a pedestal, and now you knew he did the same for you. “From the moment I saw you, I thought you were a work of art. So, I thought I’d actually make you into one.”

Your cheeks burned from the smile you couldn’t shake if you wanted to and you felt yourself get a little teary eyed. You felt as if you had spent the majority of your life thinking you were nothing special and just another person walking down the street. Harry made you feel like you were the center of the universe. You wanted to love yourself like Harry loved you; like you loved him.

“I love you,” you blurted, small tears rolling down your face, wiped away by Harry’s talented hands.

“I love you too,” he murmured softly, pulling your body to his. “I’ll always have your face hung up high in my gallery.”

There she is!! I hope you enjoyed it!! You can let me know what you think here!! :)

#harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #harry styles burb #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry fan fic #one direction #one direction fan fiction #harryandhockey

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cafecourage · 3 years

Note

VIO CONTENT PEKASE PLEASE DKJNEOIAJEPLENSENEIWN OIYUEB NWPL EHAHAHAHhSNJKNKNKSLMFDLKSFNKLNFEOIFNEOWIFNEWOFNEWOFIWEMV

Thy....... ok here you didn't give me an AU so I just f***ed around and found out.

Vio headcanons (for all Au’s and general)

General HC:

- Vio crochets. People can fight me on this!!! He crochets and knits. He does it to calm his thoughts, just to slowly zone out. Catch him plotting his own story in his brain while doing so.

- Speaking of stories, this man is probably an Author. He most likely had written a fluffed-up version of their adventure. There wasn’t really a point of him doing so but it did get all of his feelings out on paper.

- Out of all the colors I feel like he would get the most night terrors. It will lead to him having bad insomnia.

General Love HC:

- Indifference. That’s the base emotion he is feeling towards a Reader that ended up traveling with the chain. He does like you! Don’t get that wrong. It’s just the situation calls for his attention to be on the goal. The other colors are better at social interactions then him.

- Reader in a normal traveling with the chain au, would be from a more modern timeline. Not fully but like one of that mixed technology and Medieval fantasy-based era.

- It honestly was weird that you just hang out with Four with him in control. You seem like you just gain energy from just talking or interacting with the others and Vio isn’t…really… that social.

- It was a slow bonding experience. It started as you sitting nearby when he was reading or working on a project. Nether talking nor really minding the other's company.

Isekai HC:

- This man is super anxious around you. The sobs when you were also convinced, he killed green, along with your cries from his betrayal still ring in his ears even now. He hates knowing that you might not trust him anymore because of that. The other Colors think he is just overthinking it because you did welcome him back with open arms after.

- Vio is kind of just dancing around you when they finally realize you’re the voice and presence that they felt during their adventures. While the other colors jumped on to the opportunity to get to know you better. He just… can’t?

- You’re his and the other’s anchor. They consider you their (ex. Imaginary) friend. The one person that was always by their side. Cheering them through the toughest of times, and Vio feels like you would leave them if he even tries to get close.

- He really, truly wants to standby you. He wants to not feel guilty enjoying your hugs. He just… wants you to be happy.

Divide and conquer. That’s normally how Four dealt with supply runs. Four was accompanied by you today. Which meant the others were in town. So, Four decided to let the colors stretch their legs. It was nice for each of them to actually speak to you one on one. However, they had limited time and still needed to get the items before sundown.

With five people it should go a lot quicker than normal. So, with the promise of being able to hang out after. Each Color and you went their separate ways. Vio was almost done with his list of items. The last thing he needed was some more personal items.

“Sneak attack!!” A warmth from behind engulfs the purple hero. Picking him up briefly to give a small squeeze. You were smiling brightly down at Vio. “Hi again.”

It was a miracle that his brain didn’t just short circuit just looking up at them. “I- Hello??” One of the many things you’ve said on their journey came out as, Vio was scrambling for a sense of, for the lack of better words, ground to root himself to. “Why are you here?”

“Is it against the law to hug someone I am closed to?”

“No, but…” he didn’t understand why you wanted to shower him, in affection and love. But how can he ask you that? You’re always giving Four hugs and small platonic kisses. He didn’t want you to stop. He and his brothers loved and craved that warmth you brought with your presence.

Vio didn’t know if he was deserving of it. The others were, that’s for sure. Despite how rough blue is, how bossy Green could be or how much Red cried in their adventure. You always had the patience of a saint. It was him that tested that and found how far that patience went. “Viiiioooooo, earth to my favorite grape color hero!” He was finally put back down on his feet. “Are you ok?”

“Define ok.” He was quick to answer, after finally getting some semblance of his ability to think back. He took his chance to back away from your presence.

That wasn’t the right thing to say apparently as your face slowly twisted to a pout. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad… at you?” He repeated to confirm he heard you correctly. You gave a small nod now doubting your assumption. “Why?”

Your shrug didn’t give him much of an answer. “Well, it just seems when Four is influenced by you he is more distant.” You paused trying to figure out what to say next. Vio on the other hand was mortified that you were able to read his body language so well. Actually, he should have expected it. That’s how you knew that the colors exist in the first place. “If I did anything-“

“No, it’s not you!” It was him. It was all him. Vio knows logically being still hung up about the past was ridiculous. Emotions are annoying. He isn’t built to deal with them. “I just thought.” There was no nice way to explain this to you though. “You were still mad at me.”

“Oh.” Well, this got awkward really fast. Vio kept up his indifferent front hoping that his cheeks weren’t still as red as his brother’s tunic. “But I like you a lot!” You took his hands suddenly. “Don’t get me wrong I was mad. But I know you’re a good person Vio! I like you; I like your brothers and I like Four!”

Ah. There he goes.

- The first of the Colors to realized he loved you in this AU. Which just makes everything even worse for him. Since he knows the other colors feel the same but are in denial because of your connection with Four.

- He could help the others…..Nah…. Vio wants to watch them suffer.

Cafe HC:

- Coffee? If he feels like death. Yes. Tea mostly though. He tends to get the blunt of the headaches. Tea also helps with his ability to sleep.

- He is the type of customer that comes in and stays for hours. In his case just writing and/or reading. You’ve only ever spoken to him a few times before. Mostly to get his order and asking about his day. Small talk!

- Slowly you learn more about him. You learn that he has brothers. Is an author, (you’ve bought his book and teased him about having it signed now.) Had traveled around the world a few times before.

- You’ve met some of his siblings before. They actually come as often as he does. Striking up more of a conversation than him. Sometimes even getting him to talk to you more…

It’s has occurred to you how much time has passed since you last saw a Vio. It was a long time. A few months honestly. It kind of hurt that he and his brothers just up and left without giving you a fair warning but, it’s their personal business and not yours. Yet…

You thought you five were close.

It’s fine. Maybe Link was around! They were his siblings and you could just go to the forge and ask. Though you weren’t too close to Link so maybe it would be a bit awkward to ask him about his brothers.

They are probably fine.

There is no need to worry, they are all seasons’ adventurers!

It seems like this day was just going to be a slow one. Where you couldn’t get your mind off of your friends. It was almost closing time so another day without any word from your favorite color-coded brothers.

You decided to clean the shelves early tonight. Leaving some smaller bits for the Minish that may or may not be inside your small cafe. Lifting the chairs onto the tables to clean the floor. Making sure they get every nook and cranny. To make your life easier the next morning.

As you picked up the finally empty tray off of the counter you were heading into the back. Until the door to your small shop swung open and a group of similar-looking Adventurers comes stumbling in. “(Y/n)!”

“Vio?” You turned around quickly, only to see him helping to keep one of his brothers up. They looked like they ran through ten monster camps just to get to your sleepy little shop. You felt dread came in full force as the empty tray slips from your grasp. You bolt to his side ordering the others to get in the store. “You lot are staying over here.” You didn’t ask it was a demand. No room for argument. “There are potions in the back. You can use what you need.”

“Thank you, Ms.” a larger man with a scar across his eye went in the direction you pointed.

You gather the knocked-out brother to help Vio. “Thank you.” He said sheepishly.

“It’s no problem,” You smiled back at him. “Let’s make sure your brothers are safe. I was about to get dinner ready. How does something hearty sound?”

“That sounds lovely thank you.”

- You might have not known Vio and his brother for long but they really do consider your small little cafe as a safe space. A little heaven that they don’t need to be a Hero.

- Now when he stops by on this adventure you tend to give him packs of supplies and a bunch of treats for the road.

- You also started writing him letters and care packages when you can. Now that you know that he is traveling around. Though you don’t know how the mailman knows where he is… that’s… not something your gonna question really.

#🐠 anon #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #London Fog Tea #Mocha Latte #Ye Sheng Tea

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victoria-daydreams · 3 years

Text

The Long Way Home

Chapter Twelve: A Plea to Come Home

AN: Guys, it’s only two chapters left in this story can you believe it? It’s feels like I was just posting the first chapter yesterday.

Trigger Warnings: none.

Word Count: 3.4k

Taglist: @iloveeverything-09, @eiferundruhe, @greatscott--wrongdecade

Chapter Thirteen: An Unexpected Visitor

"So Erik was telling the truth," Raven started, sitting across from Charles at the kitchen table. "It's either me or Trask," She stated, staring at the four of us.

I stood behind Charles, my hands resting on the top of his wheelchair. Hank stood to the left me with his arms folded, leaning against a cabinet while Logan stood to the right of me just staring at Raven.

"If you kill Trask, they'll be ten more like him," Hank pointed out.

The blonde turned and looked at him, "Well then I'll kill them too and anyone who comes next," Raven threatened, a hardened expression on her face.

"Raven, do you hear yourself right now?" I asked in disbelief, staring at her.

"Let's just cut to the chase here," Logan spoke up, seemingly fed up with the polite conversation. "You wanna know how all this ends? Cause I've seen you in the future," e addressed Raven brusquely.

She shifted her veiled, suspicious gaze to him and held her ground, "Yeah, what am I like?" she challenged.

Logan met her scrutiny without blinking, "You're a cold,murderess bitch," he answered bluntly.

"Hey!" Hank protested weakly.

"Well don't hold back!" Raven exclaimed.

"By the time they finish you, and they finish you," Logan emphasized. "You've killed so much, you are knee-deep in human and mutant blood. You don't even know who you are," he finished.

The words hung heavy in the air and on us, like weights on drowning, helpless supplicants. Covering and suffocating us, in the undeniable horror of what could be. Raven stared at Logan for a moment, taking in his words with a hint of fear behind her eyes.

"Well, maybe there wouldn't be as much mutant blood if we made our move now!" she shot back at Logan.

"Gee, I wondered where I've heard that sentiment before," I commented sarcastically, moving to stand beside Charles.

"These are Erik's words, not yours," Charles chimed into the conversation. "Besides, you'd be giving Trask exactly what he wants: A reason for humanity to—to fear, to hate us," he said.

"You think they need a reason? Do you honestly think they'll ever be able to see me like this—" she briefly paused to shift into her natural form, to which he held his hand up and turned his head away for a second, "—and feel anything but fear? You can't even look at me!" she pointed out.

"That—That is not true," Charles denied and though his face was no longer turned, his eyes were looking somewhere above her head.

Raven reverted back to her human form, visibly easing Charles' comfort level, "I can hide, like you. But what about the ones who can't? I saw them in Vietnam. It's hard to hide your powers when you're getting shot at. And the ones that couldn't hide became lab rats for Trask," she continued.

"I will never let that happen to you," Charles vowed, his tone laced with sincerity. "I made you a promise long time ago that I would keep you safe, that I would protect you. If I had done my job, perhaps none of this would be happening to us. Perhaps you wouldn't have left home," he reasoned.

"I couldn't stay here forever, Charles," Raven sighed.

A slight smile tugged at Charles' lips when he pressed his fingertips to his right temple to telepathically speak to Raven.

"That's why!" she slammed her palms on the table clearly angry and rose to her feet.

"Raven, I'm sorry. I don't-" he began, but clearly there was some old habits Charles had never learned to stop and Raven was going to remind him of them.

"And it's not me you should be worrying about," she warned. "Erik is gonna start that war whether you like it or not,”

"Well, how do you know?" Hank wondered.

"He told me,"

Finished talking to us, the shapeshifter started limping to the bottom of the staircase. Raven's limping was pretty bad and it was clear that she was still injured from earlier today. She didn't get more than a few steps before Charles stopped her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Charles called, as I spotted the large dark stain on her pant leg.

"When was the last time you changed your bandage? On...on..your...leg?" Hank asked, his voice soft.

"Hank is going to see to your leg," Charles told her.

"I don't-" Hank interrupted.

"Yes you are," he told Hank. "You need some rest, my girl," This he directed to Raven.

"I'm not your girl," she softly snapped at him, but it wasn't said with much conviction.

"You will find your room just as you left it," he informed her before turning to his most loyal student. "Hank, go," he urged.

"I don't-"

"You know you want to, go on," Charles insisted.

"I don't blame Erik for trying to kill me," Raven interjected. "I would've done the same thing," she stated.

"How you're still able to defend a man who just attempted to murder you only a few hours ago is beyond me," I said, shaking my head.

The former professor absorbed his adoptive sister's radical opinion, unsure of how to reply.

"Go on, Hank,"

Knowing that Charles was ultimately going to get his way, Hank remained silent and caved and the pair walked up the flight of stairs together. Charles took my hand in his, effectively stealing my attention from the staircase and I looked down at him.

"Would you be so kind to give Raven a fresh towel and washcloth?" he asked softly.

"Of course Charles." I answered, nodding my head.

"Thank you darling," he said, planting a quick kiss to back of my hand before releasing it.

I made my way up the stairs and just as I was walk down the hallway I heard Charles' voice.

"She's home,"

"What are you trying to do?" Logan questioned him, not even attempting to conceal his emotions.

"I'm trying to save her," Charles answered, it as if it were obvious.

"Men who try to do that to women, in my experience, it doesn't end well,"

~~~x~~~

Now carrying a fresh, fluffy white towel and washcloth in my hands I stood outside Raven's bedroom door. I don't know why, but I've suddenly become so anxious about speaking to Raven alone. We hadn't seen each other in over a decade, but we didn't exactly end on friendly terms either. Raven wouldn't hold a grudge that long would she? Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath I knocked on Raven's door before peeking my head in to see her sitting on her sofa.

"It's just me," I informed, fully stepping into the room. "Charles just wanted me to bring you a towel and washcloth." I explained, as I walked over to her bed and placed them down.

Raven just nodded and I interlocked my fingers behind me, giving a nod of my own before slowly walking backwards out of her room.

"It's funny you know," Raven began, causing me to stop. "How the roles have reversed," she continued, turning her head to look at me. "Once upon a time it was me who was welcoming you into the mansion. And now here you are doing the same for me a decade later," Raven lightly chuckled, shaking her head.

"Who would've thought?" I asked, my lips quirking up into a smile. "Well, I'll leave to it you then," I stated, clasping my hands together and moved towards the door again.

"Wait!" Raven called, and I stopped once again this time I was at the door frame. "Stay awhile," she added.

I arched a brow, "Why do you want me to?" I asked, the question a lot more blunt than I meant it to be. "I mean, its just been a decade since we've last seen each other. And it wasn't on the best of terms," I clarified.

A small smile formed on Raven's lips, "I was young and immature," she admitted, nodding her head. "But I'm not her anymore," Raven added.

Giving a nod of my own, I made my way back into the room and sat in the sofa next to Raven, leaving a cushion space between us. An awkward silence permeated the space shared by us. As hard as we tried to ignore it, neither Raven nor I could deny that things between us had changed dramatically. We were both completely different people than we were in 1962. I hadn't really thought about Raven this much in awhile, sure she she had popped into my head quite a bit after the years following Cuba, but slowly she became an afterthought.

So many questions raced through my minds as we sit next to each other, praying for something, anything to interrupt the silence between them.

"How have you and Charles been getting on?" Raven questioned, breaking the crippling silence.

I breathed out a laugh and turned my body to face her, "To be honest you, it was only a few days ago that Charles and I saw each other again," I confessed, and Raven tilted her head in confusion. "Charles and I...well we separated in 1967." I explained, shaking my head. "It's been that way up until now,” I added.

Raven's eyes widened to the size of saucers, "What!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hands. "You two were perfect each other!" Raven claimed in disbelief.

"We were, we are." I chuckled, nodding my head and glancing down to the floor. "But the serum that helped Charles walk, it severely damaged our relationship along with other factors.” I sighed, lifting my eyes to see Raven's sad gaze.

She squeezed my hands gently, "I take it the school closing down was one of them?" Raven guessed.

I just smile at her sadly, "I think that was the biggest blow to Charles," I answered, sighing again. I put my hand on top of Raven's. "Enough about me and Charles, what about you?" I asked, looking at her expectantly.

"I was with Erik as you know already, up until JFK's assassination," Raven stated. "After that I went off on my own to fight for mutant freedom. I know we hold different views on what fighting for mutant rights looks like, but that's what I've been doing," she finished.

I looked away from her momentarily and out the window, "How was he? How was Erik?" I asked, looking back at her again.

"He...he missed you dearly." Raven answered. "Erik said he lost the woman who truly understood him," she continued. "And for awhile I envied you Claudia," Raven admitted. "I wanted to Erik to see me in that way," she added.

"But he did eventually, didn't he?" I questioned, remembering Erik's and Charles' conversation on the plane.

Raven nodded, "Yes, a relationship blossomed between us," she replied, a faint smile on her lips. “Did you ever think about Erik, after everything that happened?” Raven asked curiously.

“Of course!” I answered quickly. “More times than I should of honestly,” I said truthfully.

A small laugh escaped her and she shook her head, "God, I miss conversations like these," Raven breathed.

"Conversations like what?" I asked curiously.

"Trivial ones about men and relationships," she answered, laughing lightly. "And most importantly, I miss having them with you," Raven continued. My brows raised and my lips curved into a soft grin. "You were my first friend Claudia and I've missed you. Jealously shouldn't have ruined our friendship and for that I apologize," Raven finished.

I let out a chuckle and I righted myself. I immediately opened my arms and wove them around Raven's shoulders pulling her into a hug, which she reciprocated happily.

"Stick around Raven," I suggested. "I might let you even have the honor of calling me ‘Dia’ again." I joked, and Raven’s laughter vibrated through me.

~~~x~~~

Smiling to myself as I walked down the hallway I noticed a door was half-open, allowing me to spot Logan who was laying in bed with a cigar in his mouth. I scrunched up my nose in disgust at the smoky wisps that came out of his mouth. I knocked on the door catching Logan's attention.

"Yeah?"

I pushed the door open more slightly, "May I come in?" I asked sheepishly, to which Logan gave a nod. I scrunched nose my up even more now fully being hit with the cigar smoke. "You know those things give you cancer?" I commented, arching a brow and Logan rolled his eyes.

I took a seat on the edge of a chair that was placed underneath a desk and listening to the sounds of the TV before Logan spoke up.

"I have to know Claudia, how did Charles end up with a..." Logan trailed off, like he didn't want to finish his sentence.

"Say it Logan," I encouraged, my lips curving into a smirk. "It's alright," I added.

"How did Charles end up falling in love with someone who is such a bitch?" he asked bluntly.

I let out a laugh, throwing my head back in the process, "Well, you know what they say Logan," I began. "Opposites attract," I reminded, a grin on my face. "I do have to have thank you Logan." I stated, interlocking my fingers.

"What for?"

"If you hadn't found me, convinced me to help you. Charles and I probably wouldn't have gotten back together to try and work things out," I explained, slightly shrugging my shoulders. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I owe you...everything," I informed, looking at Logan.

He met my gaze, "You really wouldn't have come back if it weren't me?" Logan asked skeptically.

"No," I answered truthfully. "Charles showed no signs of changing his ways," I added, remembering my time in the mansion.

"Until now," Logan stated, and I nodded.

I lifted a brow, "So, in the future. You really never heard of me or even seen a picture of me,” I questioned, placing my arm on the desk and leaning my face on my knuckle.

Logan hesitated, "No," he told me. "It's like I said before, I never heard of you." he said.

My mind was reeling. How could have Charles never mentioned me. I thought I was his...his everything.

"Wow, so Charles just erased my entire existence in the future," I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "I take it that someone took my place. Who's he married into the future? What's she like?" I inquired curiously.

Logan shook his head, "Charles isn't married in the future," he corrected, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Being here now," Logan continued carefully. "I get the impression that Charles had found it difficult to talk about you, mostly because of how your relationship had fallen apart," he stated, staring at me. "I don't think Charles could never see himself being in a relationship if it wasn't you," he explained, his voice taking on a softer tone. "It's obvious the man adores you Claudia, so the guilt of him pushing you away which subsequently led to your death must've ate at him," Logan finished.

I sat in stunned silence, "Wow," I finally breathed out.

"Ah, there you are Claudia," Charles called from the door, and my head snapped to the door. "I wondered where you had gone," he continued.

I stood up from my seat, "Oh, Logan and I were just having a chat," I stated, moving towards Charles with a faint smile on my face. "It was very...illuminating," I added.

I looked at Logan, the man who had changed everything, and I made a promise to myself. I would not let that be my future. I refused to die and I refused to lose Charles again.

~~~x~~~

I watched the sunrise from Charles' bed with a cup of coffee in hand, the morning light spilling through his window. The clock that was on his wall ticked softly in a way that was soothing. I was usually the only one awake at this time of morning, but the feeling of lips placing butterfly kisses up my back made it clear I wasn't the only one awake. I smiled to myself and slowly let mug float over to the nightstand as I turned over to face Charles.

"Good morning," I greeted, a smile still on my face as he draped his arm around my waist.

"A good morning indeed," Charles said, locking eyes with me and I could see nothing but absolute bliss behind them.

Holding myself up with my elbow, I let the tips of my finger graze his jawline and Charles leaned into my touch. I moved my fingers higher and ran my hand through his long hair.

"You need a haircut," I commented, and Charles smiled. "And a shave." I added, breathing out a laugh.

Charles leaned in closer to me, placing his lips on my cheek. My nose. My lips. I placed my hand on the nape of his neck as Charles slowly broke our kiss. Softly, he ran his thumb across my cheekbone. For a minute, neither of us spoke a word.

"You're so beautiful," Charles whispered, and a smile pulled at my lips.

The sound of knocking on Charles' bedroom door broke us from our reverie. His grip around my waist loosened and I slipped out of the bed, making my way towards the door. I opened the door only to find Hank with a panicked expression on his face.

"Hank what's wrong?" I asked, my previous feelings of serenity quickly disappearing.

"I've made a mistake," Hank informed, and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"What?" I asked in confusion, folding my arms.

It was only ten minutes later when we stood in front of a broken up Cerebro, that I understood what Hank had meant.

Hank held the broken helmet in his hands, sighing. "We can't track her now," he said, shaking his head.

"She's cut her ties..." Charles sighed as well, gazing at the damaged Cerebro in sorrow.

I ran a hand down my face, "So essentially we're screwed," I stated, looking down at the now useless helmet.

Hank’s face suddenly lit up, "Wait!" he called. "There's something I need to show you," he added.

We followed Hank, back up the lift and to one of the rooms in the mansion that he had turned into something else during the time I had been away. Multiple TVs were plugged into computers. Tapes were rolling as three voices clashed with each other and a web of wires covered the floor.

Hank sat down and flipped some switches. "This is the system I designed to record any news about Paris, over all three networks and PBS." Hank explained.

"All three? Wow," Logan said dryly.

Hank nodded, "Yeah, and PBS," He remarked, with a light chuckled before shifting his attention back to the matter. "Anyways, look what I found," he said, turning up the volume on one TV.

"Tomorrow in front of the White House," a news reporter began holding a black microphone. "The President will make his announcement. He'll be joined by Secretary of Defense, Laird, and has even sought the help of renowned scientist Bolivar Trask, his special adviser to combat this mutant issue. The White House has asked..." Hank stopped the recording and turned back to us.

"Raven doesn't realize that if she kills Trask at an event like that with the whole world watching..." Charles started.

"Then I came a long way for nothing," Logan finished.

I bit my lip, "What are we going to do?" I asked, running a hand over my hair.

"Wait, there's more bad news," Hank informed. "I saw the report, they found traces of her blood in Paris. For all we know, they already have her DNA, which is all they'd need-"

"To create the Sentinels of the future," Logan finished again and sighed in frustration.

"Now there's a theory in Quantum Physics," Hank began. "That time is immutable. It's like a river, you can throw a pebble into it, create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just keeps flowing in the same direction," Hank finished, and I looked up at him.

"What are you trying to say?" Logan questioned, arms crossed.

"What I'm saying is." Hank sighed. "What if the war is inevitable? What if she's meant to kill Trask? What if this is just simply who she is?" I looked back down at the floor.

"It sure seems like it," I murmured.

Charles shook his head slowly, "Just because someone stumbles, loses their way, doesn't mean they're lost forever." He said, as if reciting someone else's words. I lifted my head smiled, Charles I had known was slowly coming back. He looked at Hank. "No, I don't believe that theory, Hank." Charles disagreed. "And I cannot believe that that is who she is," Charles stated, and Hank nodded in agreement.

"Now ready the plane, we're going to Washington,"

Chapter Fourteen: The Battle of Washington D.C.

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