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ot7always · 4 years

Text

In the Dead of Night

banner courtesy of the wonderfully talented @dee-ehn !

Word Count: 14.5k

Pairing: Vampire!Jin x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Warnings: dom!Jin, sub!Reader, non-gory blood and knife injury (it’s there, but mostly humorous and/or with very little specific description), biting (like actual biting), vampire compulsion (nothing concerning consent-wise), marking, hair pulling, grinding, size kink, spanking (hand), fingering, praise, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

Rating: 18+

Summary: Courtesy of my roommate, who summarized my story much better than I ever could:

A/N: It’s finally here! I meant for this to be about half the length and be released more than a week or 2 ago, but as you very well know, things don’t exactly go as planned in 2020. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this fic a lot, so please let me know what you think!

Saturdays at 3 am were supposed to be peaceful.

Well – at your apartment, that is. You couldn’t account for whoever elected to roam the streets of downtown at night.

But what was definitely not supposed to be happening was being awoken from your deep slumber by furious pounding on your front door.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

When you glanced groggily over at your alarm clock and saw the time, you could have screamed.

Just as you reached for your phone to call the cops on whatever psychopath was probably waking up your entire floor, your screen lit up with a text.

Suckjin [03:19]: plz open ur door

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Sliding out of bed, you hissed as your bare feet hit the cold hardwood.

This had better be fucking worth it.

Plodding out of your bedroom on tiptoes to avoid as much contact with the floor as possible, you made your way to the front door without even bothering to throw on shorts under your oversized t-shirt.

Whatever. You were sure that brat has seen thighs before.

While the knocks had thankfully quieted for a moment, he started up again just as you reached the door.

Before he could even dare bang his fist against the wood again, you were turning the deadbolt and whipping the door open, readying your fiercest glare for the broad man standing before you.

Right as you opened your mouth to start cussing him out, he sprung towards you, hands pushing you further inside your apartment and shutting the door before you could even blink.

When he turned to face you again, hands on his stomach, you prepared for the verbal onslaught you were about to send his way.

“Just what in the absolute hell do you think you’re-”

When your eyes naturally followed the path of his arms down to his stomach, what you saw there shut you up immediately.

Wide-eyed, you took a step back, eyes never leaving the sight before you. He-

As your breath quickened, a (miraculously clean) hand shot out to cover your mouth gently, though you were sure he was ready to clamp down at a moment’s notice.

“Please don’t scream.”

When you were finally able to break your gaze from his abdomen and look at his face instead, pleading eyes locked with yours, his skin paler than usual.

As frightened as you were, you calmed some when you processed the fact that he seemed to be standing before you just fine, albeit the fact that his eyes appeared somewhat unfocused.

You nodded, reaching a shaky hand up to remove his from your face, shivering at how cold and clammy he felt.

When you could speak again, you spent a few moments collecting your thoughts before you opened your mouth again.

“You - you have a knife in you!” you hissed, stepping closer to move his jacket aside to get a better look.

It wasn’t that gruesome a sight, especially not when he was wearing a black t-shirt, but it was no less jarring to have your friend show up in the middle of the night after seemingly being stabbed.

“I know that!” he hissed back, slightly exasperated, muffling a groan when you tried to inch his shirt up to glance at the skin beneath.

“Why the hell do you have a knife in you?” you whispered furiously, pulling him by the arm to settle down onto your couch.

He plopped down with a sigh of relief, his head lolling back momentarily. You hoped he knew that he was paying your cleaning bills if he bled all over your loveseat.

“Now, now, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to remove the knife if you get stabbed?” he said with a pained chuckle, sucking in a breath at the movement it caused.

“Seokjin, now is not the time to joke around,” you said, panic rising in you because you had absolutely no clue what you were supposed to do with a vampire who had a knife embedded in him. “Why did you come here?”

“Well you were the only person I could think of who would answer their door at 3 am-”

“Seokjin!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You didn’t tend to call him that unless you were genuinely annoyed, and he seemed to drop the humorous demeanor immediately.

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital?”

“I can’t go to a hospital.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Okay, correction – I didn’t want to go to a hospital.”

You let out a groan of frustration, fingers rubbing circles into your temples. This man was going to be the death of you. You had no idea why vampires seemed to have such an aversion to hospitals, but you supposed you could never understand. Despite their existence being generally accepted in society so long as they didn’t leave trails of bodies in their wake, there must have been some other reason nobody had ever shared with you.

“Seokjin, I really don’t know what to do here,” you whispered, an ounce of desperation and unease making its way into your tone. His expression softened at the sound, reaching for your hand. As much as he might have been trying to comfort you, the feeling of his hand unusually icy against yours only scared you more.

“I...” he trailed off, trying to figure out a good way to phrase this before settling on being straightforward. “...need blood.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your brow. “You literally have blood at home.”

“No, I, uhh...” he paused. “I need fresh blood to heal something like this.”

You froze. He needed fresh blood? He showed up here because he wanted... your blood?

“Aren’t there places you can go for blood?” you asked, tensing up at the notion of being bitten. It wasn’t that you were so totally opposed – it was no secret that people said it felt good. But you had never been bitten before, and you didn’t know what to think about Seokjin showing up here for that reason.

“I came here because I trust you the most,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Please. I promise I would never do this unless I had to. But please – you can say no, but tell me right now, because this hurts so much.”

Seeing his pained expression and feeling the way his fingers gripped yours like a lifeline, there was absolutely no way you were letting him back outside to roam the streets. You had no idea how this really happened to him, but despite their general acceptance, vampire hunters still existed. Like hell you were going to let easy bait walk right into their hands.

Especially not Seokjin.

“I – okay, I just – I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Biting was a pretty private, intimate thing. Most vampires drank bagged blood, with live donors only in carefully-controlled emergency clinics or heavily guarded clubs.

There was, of course, the cases of vampire-human relationships or hookups, but most people didn’t tend to share the ultra-specific details of their sex life.

Not that you had never attempted research on your own, but anecdotes you found on the internet varied so wildly that you had to wonder whether they were even telling the truth.

“I promise I can control myself. I would never put you in danger.”

“No, I know, it’s not that,” you mumbled. “Just... will it hurt?”

“Oh. No, it shouldn’t.”

“It shouldn’t? I don’t know how reassuring that is,” you chuckled nervously. You weren’t about to back out now, but you had at least hoped that he would have a straight answer for you.

He took a shaky breath, and a pang of guilt went through you for asking so many questions.

“The more attracted a vampire and donor are to each other, emotionally and physically, the better it’ll feel for you.”

“And you?”

He smirked, and curse him for making it look good despite his unfortunate... situation. “Me? I’m a vampire, it always feels good.”

Right. You might have facepalmed at the stupid question that left your own lips, but his voice momentarily distracted you from doing so.

“Anyway, I know my face isn’t a problem, so unless you secretly hate me or something, you’ll be okay,” he grinned.

“I’m so glad you can joke around right now,” you snorted derisively. “If I secretly hated you, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

“Fair.”

“Anyway, I’ll do it, just,” you winced. “Don’t call me a donor. It feels weird.”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling you closer to him. “Thank you for this. Really, I owe you.”

You sighed. “I can’t just let you bleed out somewhere in the world, can I?” You allowed him to pull you close enough that you were hovering over him with your legs touching his, and you stood awkwardly in silence. “Uhh, what should I do?”

He patted his lap in invitation and your face warmed at the notion, but you straddled his legs before your brain had time to dwell on it.

He raised a hand to nudge the collar of your shirt away from your neck, his icy fingers and the sensation of his nails on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. When his thumb rubbed gently against the warmth of your neck, you had to suppress a gasp at the surprisingly intimate touch.

When you focused your gaze on his face, his eyes were not fixed on your own, but rather on the movements of his own hand, his pupils obscenely dilated. You’d never seen him look so lustful, so hungry.

Heat undeniably flared in your core (much without your consent), and it was wishful thinking to hope that Seokjin didn’t pick up on your quickening breath or rapid heartbeat.

“I...” he whispered, trailing off before he’d even begun.

“Hm?” you answered, already feeling dazed before his fangs had even touched you.

“I need you to pull the knife out.”

Well, that certainly broke you free of your trance.

“What!? Me? You – I – me?” you stuttered in a very flattering display of eloquence.

“I’m... not sure I have the strength right now,” he admitted ruefully, and you could tell that if it were really up to him, he would be doing it himself.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

“Fine,” you murmured, raising both hands to grip firmly at the handle of the blade. “Just – don’t bite me until I put this knife down, okay? We don’t need any more... accidents.”

He failed to hold back a laugh at that, and you managed to crack a grin in response. “Okay, okay.”

To think he had you so utterly flustered and at his whim only moments ago.

“On the count of three,” you breathed, bracing yourself for something you certainly never expected anyone to ask of you. “One... two... three.”

When you reached three, you flinched your eyes shut, pulling as hard as you could in one quick burst, desperate to have this all over before it started.

The sensation was something odd and unspeakable, and you turned to toss the knife on the table behind you before you could register the uncomfortable warmth on your hands.

But the exact moment the sound of metal clattering on glass reached your ears, your head was being wrenched back by large hands, plump lips and hot breath coming into contact with your neck before you realized he’d moved.

You could barely suck in a gasp before a hand moved to grip tightly at your waist, and fangs sunk into your skin.

White-hot pain lanced through your body like electricity, and for a moment you were thinking you were done for. Seokjin was wrong, maybe he lied, and you definitely lacked the strength to push off a dying vampire determined to drink.

But just as you opened your mouth, whether to scream or cry or whatever else, you were immediately silenced, a breathy groan soon pulled from your throat.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure flowing through your limbs had you weak, your body falling limp into sensation immediately.

Clearly prepared for this outcome, Seokjin only pulled you closer to him, the hand on your waist supporting your body, a hand fisted near your scalp keeping your head back. The casual display of strength pulled a whimper from you, your body feeling hot all over.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you had to wonder when you had opened them at all, because you couldn’t recall processing a single thing visually since his fangs touched you.

You thought that would be as good as it gets, but the pleasure only kept building and building. It rendered you almost completely immobile, your world reduced to Seokjin at your neck, the broad planes of his body below yours, and the myriad of bliss flooding your veins. Heat was throbbing in your cunt, your nipples hard and almost pained as they rubbed against the roughness of your t-shirt.

You raised your hands that were sitting idle at your sides to fist into Seokjin’s shirt, giving no thought to the fact that he was gravely injured in that spot only minutes ago, fingers feeling almost numb and not registering the wetness that was there either.

“Ah - Jin,” you cried loudly as the bliss only built, tossing your head back to bare more of your neck.

He growled ferally into your skin, the sound going straight to your core. He pulled you closer still, enough that your breasts pressed harshly into his chest, your hips slotted together.

Sighing happily at the pressure right where you needed it most, you ground desperately against whatever you could feel against you. When you felt the undeniable hardness of Seokjin’s cock against your cunt and its delicious friction against your soaked-through panties, you moaned obscenely.

You felt rather than heard his gasp in response, his grip around you tightening even further, enough that you felt out of breath.

You whimpered at the restriction, his strength keeping you from grinding against him no matter how hard you tried.

You cursed him internally, but there was no way you were going to formulate words at this point, your mind completely lost to euphoric delirium.

It felt as though you were floating, head thrown back as sparks flew up your spine relentlessly.

Despite the lack of proper friction against your cunt, you could feel pressure building in your abdomen. You were close, so close, so undeniably close-

Fangs retracted from your neck, and the sudden loss was like ice water being thrown over your head. You shivered.

The tight grip on you loosened, Seokjin leaning into the back of the couch and groaning.

When you opened your eyes you almost fell over at the way the world spun, dizziness and blurry vision almost distracting you from the orgasm that seemed only moments away.

Almost.

Blinking furiously until you managed to fix your gaze onto Seokjin’s face, you sucked in a harsh breath at the sight before you.

Irises swimming with crimson, pupils blown out, chest heaving, dark hair mussed, lips painted red, fangs still visible past his parted lips – he looked the very picture of sin.

Fuck.

Though if you had a mirror, you would see that you looked just as ruined – eyes wanton and desperate, teeth gnawing into your bottom lip, dark bruises colouring your neck. If temptation were a person, it would be you, sitting in Seokjin’s lap with your soaked panties still pressed against the bulge in his pants.

As you stared at each other, it was as though time froze. Neither of you moved an inch, seemingly content to remain in some kind of intense, sensual staredown for the rest of time.

But you’d never claimed to be a patient person, and when you finally felt confident that your body was yours again, you acted.

If he wanted to push you away, he could have. His reflexes always seemed to almost predict the future, and you were positive that if he didn’t want this, he would have stopped you. He was never one to avoid voicing his discontent, even if it was masked as a self-deprecating joke. Some part of you deep down expected him to end this before it had even begun.

He didn’t.

Your lips met his in a depraved frenzy, too far gone to make any attempt at starting slow. It was rough, and it was messy, and it was desperate, and you loved it. His fangs scraped at your bottom lip and you gasped, fisting your hands into his hair as your body remembered how it felt the last time those fangs breached your skin. But as you ground your clit into the sizeable bulge in his pants again, he froze.

Just as you were about to pull away to see what caught his attention, he pushed you away first, hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasped, and it very much looked like it took all of his willpower to break away.

“What’s wrong?” you asked weakly, your head still spinning, body absolutely overcome by lust. In fact, he was looking a bit blurry again with how fast he moved you, and it took several moments of rapid blinking before you met his very concerned gaze. Nothing ever escaped him, and you were sure that your semi-weak state was very obvious to him right now.

Not that it affected how much you wanted his touch, his cock.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your brow furrowed. “I do know what I’m doing,” you said firmly – or at least, you tried, but it took far too much effort to wrap your tongue around the syllables, almost as if you were drunk.

“Y/N-”

“Why don’t you believe me?” you whined, this time sounding a bit more coherent. You tried to push toward him, but his hold was too strong. “You want it too, look at your face.”

He sighed, looking to the ceiling as though it held some answer on how to make this easier. “It’s not about whether I want it or not. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Jinnie,” you whimpered needily, reaching your hands toward the waistband of his pants. If he didn’t touch you soon, you swore that you would scream. “Please. I want it. I want you. I promise-”

He moved to snatch your hands before you could touch him, and your mouth clamped shut at the grip. His expression was almost pained for a moment before his eyes glazed over with a look that would have had you on your knees immediately.

His hand shot up to grip your chin firmly, ensuring that you couldn’t look away. Though, you didn’t think you could look away if you tried, drawn to the unspeakable darkness you found there, crimson still invading the rich brown.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and sleep for me?”

“Wh-what?” you choked out, but it was as though you’d lost control of your body, feeling as though you’d been awake for days without sleep. Your eyelids fluttered shut, but you forced them back open, groaning weakly when your vision fell upon Seokjin, his expression still dark and hungry.

You were about to open your mouth again, but something about his eyes was so captivating. Something about the red pulled you in, left you unable to think. Were his eyes always this beautiful? You wracked your brain, but came up blank. You wanted to open your mouth and ask him, but you couldn’t move a muscle. Even still, your face drew closer to his as though pulled in by a magnet.

His eyes roved over your face before meeting your gaze once more, and you missed the flash of sympathy that was present for only a moment. You were relieved when he looked at you again, fingers twitching with the urge to cup his face. You were content to look at him for the rest of time – if there was anything Seokjin had, it was time, right?

Attention focused on each other, he parted his lips, and you could have sworn your ears buzzed, desperate to hold on to every word.

“Sleep.”

Your vision went black.

You awoke to a hand scratching gently at your scalp, a great contrast to the relentless hammering of your head. You groaned, shoving your face further into your pillow, blocking out the light that was already worsening the ache of your skull, even with your eyes closed.

You were so comfy, so relaxed at the touch that you almost drifted right back to sleep.

Wait.

You lived alone.

Sitting up all in a rush, you gasped as the world spun. It only got worse when you forced your eyes open, a pained whine leaving your lips as even the limited light in the room only introduced more pain behind your eyes.

“Woah! It’s just me, it’s just me.” Seokjin’s voice came out in a rush, sturdy arms lowering you back to your pillow as he pulled the sheets up to shadow your face.

Right. Seokjin.

Your heartbeat calmed, recalling his arrival late last night. Though, what came next was all a blur you couldn’t bother trying to remember right now.

You heard him step away quickly, the sound of your curtains drawing completely closed having you let out a sigh of relief. His footsteps neared you again, his cool touch returning to stroke gently at your face, before moving to massage at the base of your skull.

His touch was so delicate it almost baffled you. You didn’t think he’d touch anyone like this, his displays of affection more inclined to loud compliments and playful roughhousing.

But you couldn’t deny that it felt incredible, your neck arching almost imperceptively as you leaned into his touch. The chill of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

“Are you cold?”

Blood rushed to your face at the observation, though you only gave a noncommittal noise in return. He didn’t need to know what was going on in your mind.

“My head hurts,” you mumbled quietly, a pout overtaking your lips. Seokjin had to force himself not to laugh at how cute you looked then.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replied softly, lulling you back into a half-asleep state with the gentle motions of his hand on you.

You couldn’t tell how long it was before you opened your eyes again – it could have been 2 minutes or it could have been two hours. You couldn’t even tell whether you’d drifted off or not.

It was fortunately much darker than the first time you opened your eyes, much to the relief of your headache that had faded some, but was still thudding away.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to be greeted by the golden skin of Seokjin’s chest, the shadows of the room only making it look more unreal.

You blearily blinked several times before determining that yes, that was Seokjin half-naked and perched on a kitchen chair. You tried to get words out and failed, clearing your throat before trying again.

“Where are your clothes?”

He grinned. “A bit ruined, if you recall.”

Right.

At least his pants were still on. That was best for your sanity.

“Why does my head hurt so much?” you asked, luckily able to keep your eyes open now to look at him without the pain multiplying tenfold.

He winced, his chest aching at the pained expression on your face. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

“What do you mean? Because you bit me?”

“No, not that.” He raised his free hand to scratch awkwardly at his ear.

“Huh? Why then?” All of this was so confusing. Maybe you should have done more research on vampires in your life, though you never expected to be in this sort of situation.

“I, uhh... compelled you.” He gnawed nervously at his lip, but rather than the lashing out he might have expected, you only looked at him in confusion.

“You what? Why?”

“What do you remember from last night?” he posed to you instead.

As much as you tried to recall, you couldn’t focus on anything with the state your head was in. You remembered him arriving at your house, a bit of stupid banter, getting on the couch, sitting in his lap. Then, he bit you.

Then what?

You honestly didn’t know, and you couldn’t help the fear that crept its way through you at that realization.

“You bit me...” you trailed off, looking away from his face and instead staring into the sheets near where your hands laid.

He hummed in affirmation, clearly urging you to continue.

“And then, I don’t really know,” you whispered, an edge of panic in your voice.

He sighed. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, it’ll come back.”

“Did something bad happen?” You tried to wrack your brain for possible scenarios where he would have had to compel you to do something, and you came up blank every time. What could you have done? Attacked him? Or did he go crazy at the taste of your blood and attack you? No, that didn’t make any sense – you were lying in bed feeling perfectly normal besides the headache.

What the hell happened?

“Nothing bad happened. I just... made you sleep before we did something stupid.”

It felt like the more he told you, the less you knew. Before you did something stupid? As in, did something stupid together?

There was something about the way he was choosing his words that led you to only one conclusion – in fact, he sounded an awful lot like Taehyung bemoaning his drunken hookups.

There was no way you almost fucked... right?

You’d have to know, right? There was no way you would have gone along with that... right?

It wasn’t as though you’d never had a spur of the moment one-night stand, but with Seokjin? There was absolutely no way you would’ve let that happen. A person had to protect their heart, after all.

“Stop overthinking right now, you’ll just make the pain worse.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though you didn’t know why you even tried lying. It was a bit hard to trick someone who was both a vampire and your friend.

“I can literally hear you freaking out. Please just try to rest, you’ll remember when the headache goes away.”

You sighed, trying to ease the tension in your body you didn’t even realize you had. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said confidently, his hand trailing away to rub firm circles into your shoulder instead.

“Mm.” You might have said something, but proper words evaded you at his touch. You tried focusing on him rather than the thrum of your skull, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

The expression on Seokjin’s face was one you hadn’t seen before. His eyes looked into yours with a softness that felt unfamiliar, a soft smile overtaking his lips when he saw how exhausted you looked.

“Sleep if you’re tired, princess,” he murmured, pulling the sheets up higher to cover you more. “Do you want another blanket?”

You could feel your heart speed up in your chest at the pet name and his tenderness, and you cursed the fact that there was no way to hide anything from him. At least he was polite enough not to tease you like he did your other friends.

You were so momentarily flustered that you almost forgot to respond, only nodding in response as you curled further into yourself. If you were any braver, maybe you would have asked him to join you instead.

It was only moments before he was tossing the throw from your living room over you, and it almost startled you. Sometimes you forgot how eerily fast he could move, considering he usually slowed himself to your pace whenever you were together.

You let out a contented sigh as you snuggled into the additional warmth, already feeling only half-conscious. You had just enough energy to let out a mumbled ‘thanks’ before you were drifting off again.

When you awoke this time, it felt as though you were an entirely new person. For starters, your head felt blissfully quiet. You were sure you would have cried if you woke up to just as much pain. There was only so much you could take in one 24-hour period. Seokjin had really done a number on your weekend, hadn’t he?

Speaking of Seokjin, he was nowhere to be seen in your bedroom. Though you were sure he was still somewhere. It wasn’t quite his style to disappear without saying goodbye, and you were even more doubtful that he would just leave after biting you.

Biting you.

At the thought, images flooded your mind faster than you could process them.

His fangs at your neck.

The relentless pleasure that invaded every fibre of your being.

Your lips on his.

Your brazen grinding against him.

And, your refusal to stop despite his words.

Holy fuck.

Was it possible to go back to when you didn’t remember and you could ignorantly lay in bed with Seokjin stroking your head?

You sat up only to bury your head in your hands, letting out a loud, embarrassed, frustrated groan while you were at it. If Seokjin didn’t know you were awake before, he surely did now. But merciful as ever, he allowed you to wallow in your mortification alone.

Was there anything worse than trying to mindlessly and basically drunkenly make your way into your friend’s pants and get denied? Your friend who you maybe found a little bit (extremely) attractive in every way, shape, and form?

Well, of course there were worse things, but to you in this moment, it certainly felt like a new low.

It took you a moment to find your footing once you’d hopped out of bed, but luckily you felt good as new otherwise. If you stayed in here alone too much longer you would certainly lose the minimal nerve you had and never leave.

In your rush to make use of your bravery, you remembered at the last moment that you were still in just your panties and shirt with no bra.

When you made it to your dresser, you paused at your reflection.

It was almost... startling how normal you looked. Though, what should you have looked like?

Baring your neck and squinting at the image in front of you, you had to scratch at your neck yourself to verify whether you were imagining it.

Aside from bruises that already seemed to be fading, there were no marks on your neck. Did it really heal that fast?

Maybe you should have been a bit embarrassed that you were so clueless on the whole subject. But in your defense, information on the internet didn’t seem to be very reliable, and vampires, for some reason, seemed to love their air of mystery. Based on the few you knew well, you were pretty sure they got a fair amount of amusement out of the misconceptions flying around.

Finally fully dressed for the first time since Seokjin showed up unannounced, you flung your door open with all the confidence you could muster.

Which is to say, you cracked your door open just enough for you to stick your head out. Much to your dismay, your eyes met Seokjin’s on the couch almost immediately, your face ducked toward the floor as you slinked your way over to the living room.

You stopped on the opposite side of the table, the sight of the stained knife there definitely not helping in your hope to distract yourself from what a fool you’d made of yourself the night before.

Out of curiosity, your gaze shot up to examine his abdomen.

You didn’t know why the perfectly smooth and unblemished muscle you found there was of any surprise to you after the night you’ve had, but it was. There wasn’t a single trace of any injury or blood on him – in fact, he looked much cleaner than when he got here. Did he use your shower?

A throat clearing had your eyes instinctively locking with his, an amused smile playing over his features that shot embarrassment through your veins. Of course the one time your ogling was purely scientific, he had to catch you and make fun of you.

You couldn’t stop your sight from drifting back down, the concept of there being absolutely no trace of anything happening to him boggling your mind.

“You really...” you trailed off, eyes darting back and forth across his bare skin one last time just to be sure. “You really healed, just like that?”

He only nodded, tapping the unbroken skin for emphasis. “You can heal me, I can heal you. Convenient, isn’t it?”

You nodded back in response, silence taking over the room quickly. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do to fill it. You’ve never experienced an awkward silence with Seokjin before, his charming nature always keeping everyone around him comfortable. This sort of energy in the room with him... it was unsettling.

“Y/N,” Seokjin called out once the silence went on a moment too long for his liking. “Can you come sit with me?”

He scooted over to make plenty of room for you, but you felt almost frozen in place. Did he really want your company after you’d pretty much jumped him? Was he sitting you down so he could let you down easy, tell you that this has been real, but he refused to associate with someone with so little self-control?

You must have stood there staring for longer than you thought, because an unreadable expression crossed his face before he spoke up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

Huh?

“No!” you blurted out, your volume clearly surprising him. “Well, a little?”

“Oh.” If you weren’t paying such close attention to him, you would have missed the hurt that flashed in his eyes. But you didn’t.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” you said hurriedly. You wanted to smack yourself for being such a blatant mess. “I’m just... scared,” you finished weakly.

His gaze softened immediately, and he had to restrain himself from hopping over the table between you to pull you into his arms. You looked like you were trying to shrink into yourself, your shoulders pulled towards your chest, hands wringing nervously in front of you.

“Did you think I would be upset?” he asked softly. He leaned forward, earnest expression on his face.

That was an understatement. You could live with “drunkenly” coming onto someone, but you didn’t know what you would do if it ended up costing you your friendship. Maybe you were being overly dramatic, but you never claimed to be the most rational person.

You nodded slowly, your vision dropping to stare at the floor, hands wrapped around your middle, squeezing as you struggled to maintain composure. You didn’t know why your heart was beating a mile a minute, your palms uncomfortably sweaty. You usually didn’t feel this level of fear when confronting a mistake that, to a normal person, shouldn’t be such an obscenely big deal as you were making it. But Seokjin was certainly not a normal person to you, and any situation that lowered his opinion of you was one you would do anything to avoid.

“Hey.” The sudden gentle hand on your chin made you squeak, and you would have stumbled in your rush to step backward if not for the steadying hand on your shoulder.

You always seemed to forget that he could move so quickly and silently. Your heart might stop at this rate if he wasn’t careful.

His thumb stroked at your jaw as if he hadn’t just seen you nearly fall flat on your ass, softly tapping under your chin until you met his gaze.

“I promise I’m the furthest thing from mad right now. Nothing is even your fault, okay?”

“But-”

“No buts. Let’s talk, but I’m not upset. Okay?” he urged, eyes not leaving yours until you nodded. The smile he gave in return made you feel warm, the tenderness in his gaze doing things to your heart, the hint of a smile ghosting your lips.

The hand on your shoulder nudged you toward him, the other opening wide to welcome you into a hug.

You went easily, your arms wrapping around his bare waist as you tucked your face into his chest. The relief you felt at his reassurance was immense, and you melted into his touch. It was almost strange how well you fit together.

“Let’s sit,” he said, kind yet firm. He led you over to the couch, settling himself down into the spot where he seemed to have spent much of the past day in.

You didn’t know what possessed you to straddle his lap in the way you did last night. Maybe it was the way he looked at you warmly without judgment, or the way your body craved his nearness after getting a taste of his touch. But whatever it was, he didn’t push you away – rather, he reached for your hands, interlacing his fingers with your own.

This position wasn’t the most “innocent” to begin with, but with the memories of last night rushing through your head, of his teeth at your neck and the pleasure you felt, your breath sped up.

With the expression on Seokjin’s face, you were sure he must have been thinking the same thing, hungry eyes flickering from your lips back up to your waiting gaze. Unlike you, however, he didn’t seem at all embarrassed.

“Are you confused?” he asked suddenly.

Caught off guard by the sudden question, your brows furrowed. Though you didn’t know just exactly what he was referring to, what will all that happened, but your answer was still the same regardless.

You nodded hesitantly, but he didn’t speak, your puzzled expression telling him that you were still working things out in your head. The silence stretched on until you finally spoke up again.

“You didn’t tell me it would be like... that.” Euphoric. Dreamlike. Intense. No matter what word you used, it still didn’t feel enough to encompass what you experienced the night before. You’d never experienced white-hot physical and even emotional pleasure like that, not in all your years of life.

You dropped your gaze down to your joined hands, watching the way he fiddled with your fingers as he pondered his next words. It felt unusual to have a conversation with him in this way – you both tended to be people who said what they thought without thinking on it too much, with friends at least. But it was reassuring to see him so serious, to see that he really did care.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was a possibility,” he finally said. He sounded confident in his words, but you found it odd that he was fidgeting so much. He hadn’t stopped moving his hands since taking hold of yours, and even his legs were starting to shift beneath yours. Why did he seem so nervous?

“What does that mean?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he responded instead, leaving you staring at him, baffled.

“Huh?” you replied, immediately defensive.

You didn’t have the smallest idea of what that question meant, but he fixed his gaze on you inquisitively. Did he think you had some big secret or something? Sure, he didn’t know everything about your life, but there was nothing so exceptional about you that not mentioning it would be some sort of betrayal.

“Uhh, never mind.”

“What do you mean, never mind? You can’t just ask me something like then and then say that,” you huffed, lips forming a thin line.

“Sorry I just thought – do you remember what I told you when you asked if it would hurt?”

You swore he was going to give you whiplash with his questions, but at least this one was easy to answer.

“Sure, you said the closer two people are the better it feels. Something like that, right?”

“Right, so, uhh, it wouldn’t normally feel that intense, you know?”

The fact that he definitely seemed to know exactly what was going on and kept beating around the bush was more than a little bit frustrating. Considering he was normally as straightforward as a person could get, though, you opted to simple stare expectantly at him. But if he didn’t cut to the point in approximately 20 seconds, your annoyance would just about outweigh your concern.

“It shouldn’t feel that way unless you liked me back,” he finally said, all in one breath.

You could only blink blankly as you processed his words, but when it clicked, you went from mildly annoyed to incredibly flustered all in the same second.

“HUH?! Wait, back?” You could almost feel your headache coming back with how many directions this conversation has taken in less than 15 minutes. Your hands were starting to feel disgustingly clammy in his, but neither of you moved to separate them.

“I know this is so sudden, and I didn’t expect to be outed like this either and it doesn’t have to mean anything, like I know I like you a lot, like a lot a lot, but I don’t really know how much you feel about me or if it’s even that significant or just a passing attraction because either is possible and I’m really sorry if this made everything awkward-”

His ridiculously fast words were cut off by your newly-free hand clamping down over his mouth, plump lips tickling your skin as he stared at you, wide-eyed. You were sure if you tried this any other time he would (playfully) smack you, but he only stared.

“Really?” you whispered. To be completely honest, you never realistically considered a relationship, or even just a hook-up with Seokjin. You found him wholly and insanely attractive, but didn’t everyone? And it wasn’t that he was a vampire and you were a human – it was laughable to believe that you’d think that long-term anyway.

No, you just never saw him being that into you. He was almost ethereally beautiful, got along well with everyone, and had one of the most charming personalities you’d ever seen. His physique wasn’t even something that needed to be mentioned. With all that considered, all you ever cared to do was admire him from afar, content to have him as a close friend. It wasn’t as though he’d ever sent you hints that he wanted otherwise, either.

So to hear that your stupid little harmless crush could actually amount to anything?

You thought things couldn’t get any more unexpected.

When he nodded his confirmation, you couldn’t keep the grin from overtaking your face.

The giddiness clear on your face and the adorable sparkle in your eye sent unquantifiable relief through him, and the second you removed your hand, he opened his mouth to speak.

But somehow you were quicker than him, your lips meeting his before a single syllable could be uttered.

Unlike last night, you didn’t kiss him like you wanted to devour him, or like your body would light on fire if you couldn’t get as close as possible. This was calmer, slower, but it didn’t take long for that to change.

His fangs weren’t out this time, but that didn’t change the fact that you gasped as soon as his teeth dug into your bottom lip. Sparks shot up your spine at the sensation, your mind unable to stop thinking about what you felt the last time you were in this same position. How good it felt to be helpless to the pleasure battering down on you, held in place by strong hands and strong arms.

He’d probably ruined teeth for you for the rest of your life.

You let him do whatever he wanted, and he groaned into your mouth when you tangled your hands in his hair. Hands gripped your ass tightly and squeezed, pulling you in closer to him.

His hands didn’t even wander much further than that, but heat flared in your core regardless. When he raised his hips to brush the bulge in his pants against your aching centre, you could only moan and grind down onto him.

The pressure against your clit through the thin material of your shorts cut off every possible train of thought, and you were pretty sure that after all this, these panties would never recover.

You felt goosebumps raise on your flesh when a hand rose, nails scraping against your scalp. You arched your neck back ever-so-slightly, and Seokjin didn’t miss a beat in detaching from your lips to mouth at the skin above your collarbone instead.

He wasn’t gentle in the way he sucked bruises into your skin, a firm hand holding your head in place while the other held your thigh, his confined length rubbing languidly into your core. You whined and tightened your grip in his hair at the brush of teeth against skin, but much to your displeasure, he pulled away from you before clothes even started coming off.

“Wait.”

“Whyyyy?” you whined petulantly. Was he really going to do this to you again? You knew he was definitely in the right to stop things last night, but there was only so much you could take.

He bit back a smirk at your neediness, thumbing gently at your protruding bottom lip as he resisted the urge to tease you for your cuteness. This soft and pouty side of you was new to him, and he swore something fluttered in his chest.

“You should eat something, princess.”

“Huh?” you blinked, confused. You were about to protest when he spoke up again.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh... dinner last night? Maybe 7? 8?”

He leaned in toward you, but rather than kiss you again, he reached for the table behind you. You craned your neck to see what he was doing, and frowned when he grabbed for his phone. Your bewilderment at what he was doing didn’t last long, however, his phone screen displaying the time for you in large, white font.

5:32 pm.

“Holy shit, I slept for that long?” You stared at him wide-eyed. No wonder he took a shower and everything. You were surprised he was sat there waiting for you for all those hours without complaint.

He looked a bit sheepish, tossing his phone to the side and leaning back into the couch, tugging you with him comfortably. At this point the fire you felt had been dimmed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still a bit irritated at being denied twice in a row.

“Ah, that would be my fault... the compulsion really gave you hell,” he winced, stroking gently at your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“It’s fine, I feel okay. Wasn’t that my fault anyway?” Your face felt hot thinking back to your behaviour and the lack of restraint you showed, hand rubbing nervously at the back of your neck.

“Of course not,” he assured quickly. “It’s not exactly something easy to resist. But if you regret it, I’m really sor-”

“I don’t regret it!” you cut him off, immediately wanting to pinch yourself for being so loud. And hasty. And embarrassing. And horny. “I’m... I’m happy right now.” Your volume seemed to die as confidence left you, but Seokjin only beamed.

“I’m happy too,” he said simply, tone laced with sincerity. “But you need to eat, I can practically hear your intestines screaming from here.”

“What?!” Strange tension successfully killed, your hands covered your abdomen instinctively as though you could shield yourself from his vampire ears. “Can you actually?”

He let you stare at him in alarm for only a few seconds before he couldn’t hold his giggles back anymore.

“Not really, but you should have seen your face. Why are you so worried about it?”

You huffed, shoulders deflating at his teasing. “I don’t know! That has to be a breach of privacy or something. Who gave you the right to listen to my intestines?”

“I can already hear your heart just fine, would it really matter so much?”

The smile dropped from his lips within a second, and the sudden intensity in his gaze had you frozen. The energy in the room shifted in an instant, and you were at a complete loss for words.

You thought he was going in for a kiss when he leaned closer, but instead his nose went to nuzzle at your neck, trailing up into your hairline. The warm air he exhaled into your ear made you shiver, pressing yourself ever so closer to his bare chest. You didn’t know how he managed to work you up within seconds, but you felt so hot despite his cool touch, baring your neck for him.

“I can hear the way your heart speeds up when I get close...” he whispered, mouthing lazily at your soft skin before sucking harshly. Unsure of what to do with yourself, your nails dug into his biceps, breath unsteady.

“I can hear the way the blood rushes through your veins, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” A hand rose to palm at your breast, bare beneath the worn cotton of your shirt. You arched your back as he harshly rolled a hard nipple between his fingers.

“I can hear the way you lose your breath, your tiny little gasps...” You couldn’t hide the way you twitched when sharp fangs scraped against your skin, a whimper nearly making its way from your throat. “Just like that.”

“And just so you know...” His voice was like honey, warm and smooth and sweet, and you hung onto his every word. “I can hear the way your stomach is growling right now too.”

The noise you let out that moment was inhumane, somewhere between a squeak and a scream of disbelief.

He broke away from you with a blaring laugh, shoulders bouncing beneath your grip.

You moved to slap at his chest, but your hand was caught easily, and his laughter only continued. God, you were going to kill this man. Again.

Your face felt obscenely hot, and you could feel a pout overtaking your lips at the sight of him still giggling away in front of you.

“Jinnie,” you whined, choosing to display your discontent by breaking free of his grip and hopping up out of his lap.

Which was definitely not the correct choice, because you swore you could feel the rush of blood through your ears before a strong sense of vertigo washed over you, groan escaping your lips. You were sure you would have fallen face first into the floor if not for Seokjin’s steadying.

“Woah, do you feel okay? This is why I told you to eat,” he sighed, maneuvering you to lay down comfortably on the couch, sticking pillows under your head. “Just stay here and I’ll make food, okay?”

“No, wait, I can make it-”

As you attempted to push back up off the couch, he only gently pushed down with a quiet ‘tsk’ and shake of his head. As you opened your mouth to further protest, he leaned in close, the softness of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Be a good girl and let me take care of you, hm?”

Your breath hitched at his sudden words, only able to stare wide-eyed when he pulled away from you enough to take in your face. The look in his eyes could only be described as devious – amused yet hardened, and you didn’t know if you were imagining the crimson bleeding into the brown of his irises.

“There goes that heartbeat again,” he murmured as though sharing a secret, the tender motion of his hand on your cheek in stark contrast to the want etched into his expression. “You’re going to be so much fun to ruin.”

For someone who didn’t really need to eat food to survive (though you’d been told time and time again that eating was fun), Seokjin made one hell of a good cook. Granted, egg fried rice wasn’t the most difficult nor time-consuming dish to make, but that didn’t make it any less tasty. In fact, you were grateful for such a simple and light dish, because you learned quite quickly that after an entire day without food, rushing to eat only brought nausea and discomfort.

Leaning against the armrest of the couch, the inside of your bowl was all you could see with how close you were holding it to your face. In your defence, though, you were greatly disinterested in the possibility of needing to clean a stain from your cushions.

As you took your time eating, Seokjin opted to tidy up a bit, dishes clanging in the kitchen before you heard him rearranging his shoes at the front door.

Thankfully, his efforts included removing the knife from your table and putting it god-knows-where, but you were just glad it was out of your line of sight. Maybe he thought that it was better for your appetite to remove the thing you’d literally pulled out of him.

You tried not to let your mind linger on just how... strange that felt.

He somehow managed to clean up before you’d even finished eating, the couch dipping beside you as he settled into his spot. Vampire speed truly was startling.

If you didn’t have your entire field of vision blocked, you might have noticed Seokjin’s fond look as you ate your meal at what could only be described as a forced snail’s pace. He had to suppress a chuckle at how antsy you seemed to be, clearly wanting to just shovel food into your mouth, but knowing you would only suffer for it. How did one person manage to be so cute and yet so seductive?

When you were done, you set the bowl down on the table with a satisfied sigh, jumping in surprise when a glass of water was placed into your newly-emptied hands almost immediately.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly, face feeling hot at his attentiveness. You didn’t know how to react at having a man like Kim Seokjin doting on you. It was almost – no, it was – unbelievable, and your poor heart didn’t know how to act. It was one thing to have him kiss you like he was going to devour you, and another to be this sweet and this caring and this soft.

Setting the empty glass next to your empty bowl, you leaned back, unsure of what to do with yourself now that you were entirely unoccupied. Seokjin’s presence beside you made you increasingly aware of the awkward shifting of your hands and your uneasy breathing. He wasn’t that close to you and yet you could smell him – you didn’t know how he managed to make your floral scented shampoo smell sexy.

“Why are you so nervous?” he said lowly, nudging you into his side and tossing an arm around your shoulders. It was a simple move, and yet all you could think was how big he was, how easily he completely enveloped you in his hold.

“I-I’m not nervous,” you stuttered, and you could feel the blood rush to your face. You wondered if he could hear that, too.

A hand lifted your face in his direction, and you were met with an expression that very clearly read ‘are you really going to try lying to a vampire?’

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you amended, biting into your lower lip. His gaze followed the motion, eyes clouding over.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his thumb raising to release your lip from your teeth, the movement intimate enough to set your stomach aflutter.

“Are we asking that now?” you responded smartly, grinning when Seokjin only huffed a laugh.

“Let me be clearer then,” he said lowly, the abrupt commanding tone having you sit up straighter. “Can I kiss you, strip you, take you to bed, taste that sweet pussy on my tongue, and then fuck you?”

Heat flared in you at the words, your fingernails scratching against his chest before remembering he wasn’t wearing a shirt for you to yank him closer. You settled for making a beeline for his mouth, but a quick movement to grip your hair at the scalp kept you from getting close enough.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, holding you still as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, humming in content when he brushed right against the spot he bit you yesterday. “Tell me yes or no, princess.”

You nodded with what freedom you had left – not much, with how tight his hold on you was, tiny pricks of pain sending sparks up and down your spine. His other hand pulled you closer to him, your hips halfway straddling him as he mouthed at your neck, acting as though he hadn’t noticed your response. It was clear that he was waiting for you to say something.

“Yes,” you said quietly, nearly forgetting what the question was from the way he was sucking softly at your neck. At the scrape of fangs against your skin, you only pushed back against the hand in your hair, exposing more of your neck with a soft sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” he taunted, pulling you fully on top of him, his hard cock right against your core, and you wished that clothing wasn’t separating you.

He pressed those fangs against the soft skin below your ear, hard enough that the pain had you wincing, but not enough to break skin.

He was teasing you, and you were putty in his hands.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” he breathed, tonguing lazily over the stinging marks he left behind. You could only whimper and squirm in his hold, hands tangling in his silken hair. You didn’t know whether you wanted to pull him away or push him closer.

“To have you moaning in rapture right in my lap, so desperate for my cock, the taste of you on my lips...” His voice was so low you could barely hear it, barely process it, but the absolutely lust in his voice only spurred new waves of arousal in you. “Hearing you beg like that, fuck-”

He cut himself off with a sinful moan as he shifted his hips to rub himself right against your cunt, and you shuddered in response.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone so bad,” he sighed, breathing unsteady as he used his grip on you to rock you in time to his movements. “I’ve never had such a test of self-control. Maybe I should punish you.”

This voice was teasing, but your reaction was real, and there was no way to hide the way a moan escaped or the way your nails dug crescents into Seokjin’s smooth skin.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” he chuckled darkly as he leaned his head back into the couch, the grip in your hair tightening even more. A helpless whine left your lips, and you became uncomfortably aware of the way your panties were sticking to your folds.

“Tell me, do you think I should punish you?” he asked, his honeyed voice lulling you into a state you couldn’t even begin to explain with words.

You tried nodding again, hissing at the flash of pain when you tried move your head from his grip.

“Princess, haven’t you learned to use your words? I think I’ll bend you over my knee right here. What do you think about that?”

“Please,” you gasped without hesitation, freezing when you fluttered your eyelids open to meet his gaze.

If you weren’t sure whether his eyes were laced with red before, it was evident now. It only made him all the more enticing, and your vision fell down to his mouth instinctively when he ran his tongue over his teeth. A pang of heat went through you when his fangs bit into his lip, and before you were thinking about it, a hand rose to brush against his mouth.

Your thumb grazed a fang almost reverently, and Seokjin only watched on fondly at the wonderment on your face. You supposed it might have been strange to touch your friend’s – boyfriend’s? – teeth like this, but you had always been curious. Hell, you hadn’t even seen fangs in person before last night. As far as you knew, they only extended when feeding or when feeling strong emotions, and neither tended to be something you could casually see on the street.

You bit at your lip when sharpness pushed into the pad of your finger, but his next words broke you free of your reverie.

“Bend over then.”

He released you from his grip dizzyingly fast, leaning back to watch you.

You were surprised at yourself with how quickly you situated your ass over his lap, the self-consciousness you would’ve expected to be feeling wholly absent. Seokjin was just that captivating.

You wiggled your way into a comfortable position, sticking a cushion under your head. Now that your ass was sticking out right into his view, you felt more vulnerable than ever, knowing that his eyes and ears were trained on your every movement and reaction.

Hands pushed your long shirt up over your hips, fingers trailing lightly over the globes of your ass, separated only by the thin fabric of your shorts. But not for long.

Fingers reached under your waistband and tugged down before you could react, yanking your shorts and panties down in one go.

With air suddenly hitting your sodden pussy, you could feel heat rise to your face at how exposed you found yourself. But any thought of shifting and hiding was erased when you heard Seokjin’s loud groan.

“Shit, you’re soaked, smell so fucking good,” he hissed, fingers reaching to push messily through your folds.

You couldn’t see him putting his fingers in his mouth, but the depraved moan he let out afterward had you squirming in his lap.

After your shorts and panties were pushed onto the floor, a large hand ran tenderly over the skin of your ass, fingers digging in slightly.

“Is ten on each side too much for you?” he asked. There was no hint of teasing in his tone, his voice firm. He continued his soft stroking as he waiting for an answer.

“Uhh... I don’t really know?” you responded meekly. Sure, you had been spanked before, but it was never this... structured? To be honest, you didn’t really know what “a lot” would be in terms of numbers.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’ll work our way up and see how it feels. Is that okay?”

You nodded at first, but quickly let out an ‘okay’ when you remembered how firm he was on a proper response.

“This means I’m trusting you to be honest and tell me to stop if it’s too much. I want you to feel good.”

“Okay.”

You released tension you didn’t realize you’d had at his reassurances, allowing your limbs to loosen as you adjusted to lay more comfortably. The sensation of his hands on you made you feel safe and secure, and you knew for a fact that for all his hard words and cold stares, he was still always searching for your approval.

You twitched in surprise as a few light swats came down on each cheek, almost as though he was testing the motion. But after being briefly taken off guard, you relaxed under his hands, body already warming up at each light blow. You barely felt anything aside from a faint sting, but you could already feel your cunt throbbing, anticipation having you dig your nails into the cushion beneath you.

But even despite his preparation, the first real blow had you gasping. Not because it was overly painful – in fact, those pinpricks of pain were laced with pleasure, radiating outward from where his palm had firmly struck you. No, it was more that with the control and precision he showed, another realization struck you at that moment.

He really knew what he was doing.

This wasn’t just a college boyfriend who wanted to experiment with things he saw in porn, or a random bar hookup who thought he was more than he was.

No, Seokjin was the epitome of calculated control, had you eating out of the palm of his hand with one simple word. One look and you were his.

And fuck, if that didn’t make you melt.

You sighed happily as a hit came down on your other asscheek, another wave of arousal soaking your cunt.

“Do you want it harder?” he asked, voice low. The tone felt almost like a personal attack, honeyed words piercing your eardrums.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Yes or no. Don’t just agree to do things because I suggest it,” he scolded, punishing you with a swat to your upper thigh that stung sharper than his previous blows.

“Yes, I want it.”

“Hm,” he hummed, nails scratching over your skin, just barely missing the heat of your core. “I think I would be more convinced if you begged.”

As much as most of your embarrassment had already faded, what with being bent over Seokjin’s lap, it took so much more to put your desires verbally out into the world. But the throbbing in your cunt was fierce, and the warmth from his previous strikes was already fading. And you wanted more.

“Please,” you whined weakly before taking a deep breath to amp yourself up. “Please, Jinnie, I want it harder.”

You barely had time to process the tiny chuckle he let out before his palm came down on you again, the additional force behind it making you shiver despite the warmth that spread through you.

You didn’t know exactly how many more times his hand struck your ass, but your quiet moans were interrupted by his voice once again.

“Harder?”

As much as you felt good, it still wasn’t enough. The sting wasn’t enough, the heat wasn’t enough. You wanted more, needed more.

“Yes, please.”

“Mm, there you go. Maybe I should do this more often if you’re going to be such a good girl for me after.”

He punctuated his statement with a harsh blow to your ass, the strength of it forcing a moan from your lungs. A hand stroked tenderly over where it had struck, before doing the same to the other cheek. You whimpered as you felt another gush of wetness spill from your cunt, squirming as another strike rained down.

Yes, this is what you wanted.

The feeling was heady, your mouth open and allowing all the sounds to spill from your lips. Every cell in your body felt hot, from your fingertips down to your toes. You were certain you must have been making a mess of his lap with how wet you were.

You didn’t realize how heavily you were breathing until the smacks stopped, fingers gently kneading at the raw skin instead. Your skin felt almost burned, but more than anything, you needed those hands to slip between your legs. Now that there was nothing else to distract you, your neglected pussy was desperate for something, anything.

“How are you?” he asked several moments later.

His continued soothing touch dampened the fire of your skin before long, but that only furthered your arousal, shifting in his lap in search of some relief. You itched for some pressure on your clit, but it wasn’t possible in the position he had you in.

“Good,” you breathed, pressing back into his touch.

“Good.” He let his fingers creep ever-so-closer to where you needed him most, rubbing against where your wetness had spread, just beside your outer folds. “I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?”

“Please,” you whined immediately, but luckily, he didn’t seem interested in making you wait any longer. Maybe it was the fact that he had been waiting just as long, or that he was just tired of your constant fidgeting in his lap.

A finger slid in without resistant – unsurprisingly, what with the way you could feel the air hitting your slick skin. Your walls clamped down on the intrusion immediately, and another finger slid down to rub tiny circles onto your clit.

You whined in relief, but Seokjin unfortunately held you down to keep you from thrusting back onto his hand.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured, slipping another finger in when he felt how easily you took the first.

As much as one didn’t feel like enough, two of his fingers was so much bigger than your own. The stretch had you gasping, the friction against your walls and clit making you moan out.

As he scissored his fingers inside of you, the slight burn had you hissing, though the constant ministrations on your clit made sure the pain never became your focus.

“Mm, are you sure you can take my cock?” he mused, smirking at the way you were already whimpering, increasing the pace of his thrusts as your moans got more frequent.

“I can!” you blurted out, sounding almost offended. He had to stifle a laugh. You had always been fun to rile up, and sex was no exception.

“Hm, okay,” he hummed, amusement colouring his tone. You almost called him out on it before his fingers pulled out of you abruptly.

“Jin-”

Before you could question him, beg him to come back, hold him against you – three fingers started easing their way inside of you.

You tensed up almost immediately at the harsher burn at your entrance, the stiffness of your body not doing you much of a favour. He paused all movement at your struggle.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

His words had you feeling more at ease, a reminder that he was here, he wanted you to feel good, and he only kept on making that fact clear.

You made a noise of agreement, forcing your muscles to relax despite how much they wanted to clamp down. You wanted his cock, after all. You could take his fingers.

He took his time with you, slowly easing his fingers in and scissoring them apart, all the while his other hand resting beneath your abdomen, rubbing into your clit. You keened under his continuous murmured praise, moaning as he began to thrust his fingers.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his own breaths beginning to get heavy as he watched you twitch and whine at his hand.

Once the discomfort passed, your pleasure crested ridiculously fast with how long you’ve been waiting to be touched, filled. He stretched you open so wide, and you clenched around his digits at the thought of those fingers being his cock instead.

You were easily giving yourself away with how your walls were clamping down more and more, heavier gasps leaving you. The stroking at your clit wasn’t getting any slower, and soon enough you felt like you were going to snap.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, princess?” he asked roughly, his voice showing an uncharacteristic lack of control as he spread his fingers wide again.

“Please,” you said feebly, all other words having left your available vocabulary long ago. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you, baby.” The crook of his fingers took you by surprise, and with one, two, strokes against that spongy spot within you, you were gone.

Your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs, your legs going weak as waves of bliss hit you everywhere at once. His hands on you didn’t stop their motions, only sending new waves up your spine, shivers wracking your body as you grasped the closest object tightly – your nails digging into the cushion beneath you.

He only stopped when you started to squirm away as pain took over the pleasure, a whimper escaping as his fingers were removed.

If you thought you were getting a moment to breathe, you were wrong.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled.

Before you could blink, you were on your back, his lips attacking yours in a frenzy.

The grip he had on your thigh was sure to bruise, his still-clothed cock rocking into your sensitive pussy as he consumed your every thought, every desire.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the realization only building the fire that had already been relit within you.

You allowed him to pull the shirt from your body, your skin left completely bare beneath his.

His gaze was somewhere between reverent and demonic, and he looked almost ready to pounce back on you before he paused.

“Bed?” His voice sounded strained, and you thought briefly back to what he said about how much self-control the past day has required from him. You glanced down at the bulge in his pants, and you had to keep yourself from grabbing at it, eager to give him his pleasure the same way he’d done for you.

“Okay.”

You didn’t think your lips formed the second syllable before you were being scooped up, your arms looping around his neck to steady yourself from the abrupt movement.

The walk to the bedroom was somewhat of a blur, your stomach lurching at the speed with which he moved. You’d known the man was quick, but experiencing it firsthand was partly unsettling, and partly... strangely sexy.

Your back hit the sheets with unexpected force, your body bouncing back up from the impact. You’d never considered strength to be such a significant turn-on, but combined with everything else about him, it seemed to make Seokjin the most dangerously attractive man you’ve ever encountered.

You thought you were about to get fucked into the mattress – the hunger in Seokjin’s stare only cementing the thought – but it seemed that he had other ideas.

“Jin-”

You were about to beg him to touch you, fuck you, do literally anything – when his hands wrapped around your ankles, spreading your legs apart enough that you could begin to feel the strain in your thighs.

The way he was gazing at your fully exposed core almost made you self-conscious before you took in the way his breathing was heavier than you’d ever seen it, the crimson completely having taken over the brown of his irises.

“I have – I have to taste you,” he groaned.

He sprung on you in an instant, plush lips wrapping around your clit and sucking before his tongue moved down to lap at your arousal.

While you were still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm, the discomfort was nothing in comparison to the bliss lighting up your nerves. You were a slave to pleasure under his tongue, hands holding you down as you attempted to buck up into him instinctively.

His tongue attacked you like a man starved, his unabashed moans into your heat leaving you gasping.

But as much as he was successfully making you lose your mind, you didn’t want to cum like this.

“Jin, fuck-” you whimpered, body aching to grind up into his face despite your next words.

He only hummed into your pussy at your noises, motions not pausing whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, a hand winding into his hair in an attempt to pull him off you.

You almost thought he was pretending not to hear you when he didn’t react straightaway, but not long after, he pulled off of you.

He didn’t even say a word in response, only shucking off his pants and boxers with a heaving chest.

You swore your pussy throbbed when you saw his cock, only moreso when he fisted it with a hiss, lips that were glistening with your arousal widening to reveal sharp white fangs.

“I have to be inside you right fucking now,” he snarled, dragging your body down by the thighs to meet him where he knelt.

You felt almost feverish, your hands reaching to yank Seokjin by the shoulders, the need to be closer taking over your every thought.

He kissed you frantically as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit, your back arching up into him, his closeness still not close enough for you.

You were so close to pleading with him not to draw this out, but he settled himself against your entrance, his other arm supporting himself by your head. When he started to push in, you could only whimper.

You knew he was big when he grasped himself in his hand only moments before, but for all his preparation, it felt like you were being split open.

You clung onto his biceps as he rocked himself forward at a snail’s pace, nails digging into his skin as you clamped down on him reflexively. It burned, but you wanted it so bad. As much as the discomfort was intense, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, unable to stop panting into Seokjin’s mouth.

You whined as he nibbled at your bottom lip, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles into your thigh, the other in your hair. But when you felt fangs puncture your lip ever-so-slightly before he sucked it into his mouth, all breath was stolen from you.

It was only the smallest fraction of the pleasure you felt the night before, but that was enough to have your head thrown back, hips raising to meet Seokjin’s.

It almost seemed that he wasn’t expecting you to thrust upward onto him, a strangled groan leaving his throat as you shoved more of him inside you.

The stretch remained overwhelming, but the pain felt like a distant memory, new arousal making the glide smoother.

“Good?” he gasped against your collarbone, hot breaths hitting your skin as his hair brushed against your face. The arm holding him up was trembling at your side, the fingers on your thigh tightening their hold as if to physically hold himself together.

Part of you just wanted him to lose control.

“So good,” you moaned, shoving your hips up again, volume increasing exponentially when he allowed you to push him in to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he growled, arm moving to form a bruising grip on your other thigh, his chest moving away from yours. “Are you that desperate for it?”

The question was accompanied by a sharp snap of his hips that sent you reeling, too breathless for any sound to escape.

He spread your thighs apart even further, a hand beneath your left knee lifting your leg towards his chest.

The next quick thrust hit you even harder at that angle, a choked-out whine escaping you. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he ground himself into you, your pussy feeling split so overwhelmingly wide.

You were wound up so tight, you thought you were going to go crazy. It was impossible to think straight when he only did quick snaps of his hips at random intervals. You didn’t think you’d ever been hornier than this moment, and you swore you could feel the arousal leaking from your cunt.

You could see sparks of light behind your eyelids with how tightly you had them shut. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, the flesh still tender from Seokjin’s bite.

His thrusts became slow and deep, tiny gasps leaving your open mouth.

“Look at me,” he snarled suddenly, the sheer command in his voice sending shivers up your spine, gaze snapping onto him immediately. It took a moment for your vision to focus properly, still drowning in the sensation of his cock still moving within you.

If you thought he looked fierce, hungry, dangerous – you were his polar opposite.

To put it simply, you were a mess.

You were too lost in it all to notice the stutter in his hips when he locked eyes with you, but he almost stopped breathing entirely.

Your eyes were glazed over in pleasure, the tears just beginning to gather there only making their colour all the more enticing. Your expression was slack, and it looked like you couldn’t decide between clamping down on your bottom lip or leaving your mouth wide-open. You looked so vulnerable, so willing to put all of your trust in him to take care of you, make you feel good.

And fuck, if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

His movements after that caught you off guard, his abrupt rough thrusting engulfing your body in flames of bliss, loud moan leaving you. As much as holding his gaze made everything feel so much more intense, you just couldn’t. Your head fell back onto the pillow, back arching as much as he would allow you to move in his tight hold.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice sounding almost helpless and he continued his movements, his arms the only thing keeping you from shifting up the mattress. As his gasps transitioned to groans and then loud moaning, you could feel yourself nearing your peak again.

He slowed his movements, the heavy panting reaching your eardrums and having you clench around him instinctively. The choked-out groan in response told you he was close, too.

“Jin,” you called out, the word so breathy that you almost didn’t recognize it despite it coming from your own lips.

You raised an arm to weakly grab at his body, hoping he got the message himself. You wanted him close, but highly doubted that you could manage to form the words right now.

Luckily, he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, dropping your leg and moving to hover over you, your breasts brushing his chest. He started thrusting slowly again, his head dropping to your collarbone as a hand wound into the hair at your scalp.

With him right on top of you, his pubic bone was brushing against your clit, the added stimulation having you whine loudly and dig your nails harshly into the skin of his back.

He didn’t seem to mind, a loud groan leaving him as he started mouthing at your neck, sucking bruises into the flesh.

But when you felt fangs briefly scrape over your skin, only one thought came to mind and refused to leave.

You wanted it, wanted his fangs to sink into you, wanted to feel that again. Now.

“Bite me,” you whimpered, pushing your head into the pillow and arching your back, eager to give him free reign as your orgasm inched closer and closer.

You expected him to protest, expected him to deny you, expected him to pull away.

But he did none of those things.

Instead, fangs sunk deeply into your neck with a feral growl, almost as soon as he heard the words leave your lips.

That same immense burst of pain rendered you motionless for a split second before that all-consuming euphoria descended on you.

You vaguely registered Seokjin moaning loudly above you as his hips stuttered, his lips locked on your neck. But you felt almost disconnected from the world, as though every nerve in your body was firing, your cunt pulsating around him as you reached the strongest high you’d ever felt.

It felt almost instinctual to grip at his back tightly, pulling him close, as if he’d ever want to leave. You didn’t even realize how loud you were being, your peak only going higher and higher, to the point of being overwhelming.

Tears streamed from where your eyes were clamped shut, moans turning into sobs as Seokjin ground against your overstimulated clit, your pussy clenched around him tightly.

You were so far gone you didn’t even notice the warmth spilling into you as he groaned loudly into your skin, his movements slowing before he pulled his mouth from you.

The crash was almost immediate, exhaustion and soreness taking over your limbs as you gasped for breath, the hands on Seokjin’s back falling limp. It felt like all the strength was sapped from your body, your consciousness half-absent.

You thought you heard Seokjin fussing over you, his hands wiping tears from your face, but to be honest, it was all a blur. He disconnected with you easily despite your mumbled protests, dropping a kiss on your forehead with a soft command not to move. You didn’t think you were capable of such a thing anyway.

You hardly registered his absence before he was back with a wet cloth. You didn’t know if that was because of his speed or because you were too tired to pay attention.

The next thing you knew, he had rolled you to lay on top of him, your face tucked into his neck as he stroked at your back. Normally, you might have complained about how much colder he was than you, but your skin was still so heated that the coolness was a relief.

You could tell that he was saying something quietly, unsure whether he was asking you something or not. His voice only brought you warm comfort, your arm moving to wrap around his waist.

You honestly weren’t too sure how long you laid there until your senses started coming back to you, but the hand on your back never stopped its soothing motions. The realization made you strangely embarrassed, wondering how long you’ve been out of it.

“Did I fall asleep?” you mumbled, nuzzling into the softness of Seokjin’s neck.

“Not really, it hasn’t been too long,” he responded, though the way he paused made it seem that he had more to say. It took a few moments before he got the words out. “Did I go too hard? Was it too much?”

Despite the low volume of his voice, he sounded almost frantic, and your brows furrowed. Why was he so worried?

“Of course not. I asked you for it, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

He sighed heavily, his hands on you pausing. “I know, I just – I got worried when you were barely responding to me. I guess I was just afraid that you would be scared of me after.”

You felt a tinge of guilt at his concern, but logically it was nobody’s fault. As much as you wanted to take his face in your hands and tell him that you don’t regret anything and there wasn’t a world where you could ever be scared of him, you doubted your ability to do so right now. Instead, you hoped that simple reassurance could be enough.

“I loved it,” you said plainly, sleepiness clear in your voice. You were fighting past the fog in your brain to talk to him, wanting to make sure he knew where you stood.

“I loved it too,” he whispered before bringing up the blanket to cover both of you. “You sound tired. Why don’t we sleep?”

“Wait.”

“Hm?” he hummed in response, his confused expression hid from your view.

“Are you my boyfriend?” Your words sounded almost slurred with how close you were to unconsciousness, but his chest bouncing as he chuckled told you that he heard you just fine.

You were dangerously close to dreamland, but you caught his answer right before you fell asleep in his arms.

“Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.”

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Petal

college!sebastian stan x reader

masterlist

Summary; Your boyfriend Sebastian has been spending much time studying, hardly sparing himself a break. Finally, he sees the pros of taking one

Warnings; smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, fluff

divider by @firefly-graphics

Sebastian was to be home any minute, he had been prolifically stressed from his classes regarding his law certification, and you had decided to exhibit him a well deserved distraction that would surely take his wired brain off from the course that was practically running through his veins at this point.

It seemed that at every waking moment, he was doing something to aid his studies, and whilst that was great that he was so dedicated to passing for this insane qualification, he did need to take breaks here and there. He wasn't the only one suffering from his late nights, and his resurrection from slumber at the crack of dawn, no. You were too, you missed him, despite being in the same apartment and room as him for the majority of his spare time.

He acted as though he had no time to spare, but you were well acquainted with his schedule, especially by now. The only difference was, that he had no occupation for a moment to relax with you, or by himself. His showers took five minutes every morning and evening, it was as though he were rushing to clean himself so that he could proceed to go back to putting his nose in a book, or searching specifics online.

But tonight, you were going to cut him off. If he didn't endure a moment of mindlessness, then you were sure to go mad yourself. You were keening for his touch, all you had received in the past few weeks were chaste kisses on both your lips and forehead, as well as verbalised 'I love you's. Perhaps it was selfish, he was striving towards a great achievement in his life, and you wanted a little bit of attention, but you knew he was holding himself from any relief also.

From the minimal time that he spent under the cold stream of the showerhead, he didn't have enough time to rub one out, and there was no fear that you had of him seeing another woman. Sebastian was not like that at all, and you had the clarity of him being in the kitchen half the time, typing away on his laptop, as he ran over some old notes and updated them.

Currently, he was out, he was in his lecture. There was a span of fifteen minutes from the time that he would be on the walk home, and you knew that was exactly how long that took in your shared student apartment, because you too endured your studies. But once more, your own were pushed to the side as you speculated your appearance in the silver tapestry of your mirror.

Your hand steadied on your right hip as you posed in front of it, twisting your waist to find the most attractive angle for you in your new wear. The underwear was tight, and not to mention, completely sheer. It's see through nature made wearing it practically pointless, but considering his current frustrations, it was only fair to give something to rip off of you.

Truthfully, you had to admit, you looked damned good. There was no way he would choose studying law over ravishing your body, a spark jolted through your body as the door behind you opened, and with a seductive bite to your lip, you turned around, only to scream and cover your body with your hands, or at least to the best of your ability. "Holy fuck, don't you know how to knock?!"

"I didn't think I'd have to because your human dildo isn't here!" Anthony defended himself, having turned around, as the image of you, one of his best friends, practically in the nude, burned behind his eye balls. The fact that he had seen you made you feel sick, this was not how you had intended the afternoon to go.

"Is there a reason that you burst into my room looking for me Mackie?" The question was indeed one that you wanted to know the answer to, you still felt so exposed, although he was not looking at you. That was certainly something that you were going to avoid telling Seb, that would definitely be a big distraction from his work.

And of course, alongside that, he would have an intent to possibly murder your flat mate, and whilst Chris would be laughing at that, there would be a heavy hotness to your face, as you watched them immaturely battle. Anthony cleared his throat thoroughly, directing towards the face that he was about to speak.

"Definitely not to see you like that." Retorted the math major, shrugging the shiver off his shiver as the memory tormented him once more. "But... me and Chris were going to meet with Scarlett, Takia and Brie, we were going to see if you and Seabass wanted to join, but as I saw against my own will, you have something already planned for your dinner."

“Um yeah, no, we’ll pass. Thanks tho buddy.” Oh god, to say you felt awkward was an understatement. If you were wearing clothes, or at least more socially appropriate ones, you’d go to him and give him a typical punch on the shoulder. Though, if you were clothed more body wear, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Only things like this happened in college flats, that was one thing that could be confirmed.

“Okay then. Good to know...” Anthony closed the door and proceeded to enter the kitchen. He went grab himself an apple, and realised then that it was an unfortunate consequence, but he had lost his appetite. There had been nothing wrong with your appearance - nothing at all - but you were his flat mate and friend! And, you had a boyfriend, whom was also a great reference of social interaction for him.

The sound of keys interlocking with the outside of the door echoed through the kitchen, someone was outside, and he’d be write in assuming that it was Sebastian. Chris was presently occupied by scouring the internet for ways to surprise the girl he was currently hanging with, and honestly by that, Anthony was scared to enter his room.

It could have been anything that he was searching, but to his contrasting luck, the last resident of their flat entered, creases firm on his brow, from thinking too hard. Sebastian was mulling over the lecture that his professor had given his class. Remember to take a break every now and then. Maybe he was right, a break couldn't postpone him from graduating him that much, could it.

Perhaps he was putting it all off, because after receiving his degree, the four of you would have to find somewhere else to live, and a part of Seb was inclined to ask you individually to move in with him. A one bedroom apartment would be cheaper than one with three rooms, and atop of that, he wouldn't have to be cautious of minor things like walking around the flat in little to no clothing, or fucking you on the kitchen counter.

They were all coupley things that he had wishes to do, but because there were another two men residing with you and him, albeit them being your friends, he didn't allow you to do so in anything less than one of his shirts that cascaded down your thighs, so that if you weren't wearing panties, everything would be concealed. Anthony gulped, remembering he had seen you in your surprise for this man, and gosh, did he want to keep quiet about his accidental peek.

Sebastian wasn’t the jealous type, it was rather refreshing how he found that to be an unappealing trait, however, it would still not settle well that someone saw his girl, in a compromising choice of wear that was supposed to be for his eyes only. He would surely make it clear that you were his, and thus the fucking in the kitchen that he dreamt about would be more than likely to unfold, as he rammed you against the cupboards, caring not if guests were due.

“Hey.” It was a breath of fresh air to speak to someone who was not on his course, it was as though he had become estranged from the people closest to him during this part of the term. Thus a striking pang of guilt landed in his chest as he wondered how you must have felt. He hadn’t touched you in any intimate sense in weeks, it certainly felt like years.

That truth gave him no pride, he dropped his items on the counter, planning on returning to them after he had tended to greeting you. A long kiss sounded nice, strung by a chord of untwined tongues that groomed the insides of your mouth, as you reciprocated. If he was very generous to himself, he’d perhaps lay down for a moment, and allow his pianist hands to wander for more than a moment, stroking them up and down your thighs, until he gave supple attention to your sweet delicacy, dipping down to kiss it and run his fingers over the beautiful gates that only he was allowed to surpass through.

Anthony muffled a reply to him, before shuffling out the room, casting him a weird side eye, but Sebastian thought little of it as his mind was preoccupied with something other than his studies. Oh, and how he didn't mind. The mental image of your nude portrait blessing his eyes was enough motivation to have him striding at a fast, yet considerable pace, towards the door to your shared bedroom.

He knew you must have been inside, he saw your lanyard hanging on the coat rack, that was literally a makeshift piece of wood that you had drunkenly returned with one night, along with a very much intoxicated Paul Rudd. There had been construction nearby, and you thought that it was possible to turned the sharp edged plank with nails sticking out as a bedframe. Least to say, Sebastian did not allow that to happen, knowing that one morning, you would end up spiking your scalp against one of the rusted nails.

People had gotten hurt by it from where it was already, there was that time that Tessa had tried to lean on it for a photo, that in retrospect was an applicant towards your photography course, but that didn't end well, you were pretty sure there was still a streak of her blood stained into one side. That may have been why Chris had turned its weight around after that. However, none of you had the money to spare to invest in a real rack, so for now it stayed.

It sure as hell wasn't coming with you guys when you moved out, that was one thing that Sebastian was going to ensure. If Anthony wanted it, then so be it, if all went to plan, the pair of you wouldn't be living with the lovable goof when the time came. Turning the knob to the room, Sebastian heard a gasp, and thus after he shut it, he saw you wrapped up in your robe, your head cocked to the side as you seductively tried to settle on your small double bed.

"You made me jump Sebba." No, he could tell that you had been taking a short nap, as though you had wanted to forget some details from your day. And that you did, and you hoped that Anthony did as well. "Have you got much work to do bubs?" You raised yourself on your elbows and shuffled towards him as he came to sit on the side of the mattress.

"Think I'm going to take a short hiatus from it for a few hours." Now that certainly sounded pleasant, you hummed at his words, stroking his shoulder, as you pressed a kiss to his hand that moved cup your cheek. "Have I been neglecting my little petal?" It was a name he used whenever he was seeking forgiveness, but this time, you shook your head, frowning, as you settled a small smile on your face.

"You've been understandably busy, I get that. I'm not going to go as far as to use that word babes, you've just had a little time to yourself and your schoolwork, and that is fine." He tapped your chin, cocking his head to the side, inviting you to straddle his lap. You'd have been stupid if you refused after all the time that you had spent mentally apart from him, so without another hint, you clambered over his thighs, a giddy expression corrupting your face.

"This is why I love you. So open minded, and not to mention, that mind of yours has had me doing some thinking." Nodding in a current to prompt him to continue, his hands eased their lodging onto your bare thighs, stroking the skin with large soothing swipes, making any hair on your body stand on edge, as he averted his eyesight to the split of your gown that crisscrossed around your chest. It wasn't a sexual focus however, it was more so as though he feared a rejection of one kind.

"Hope you're not gonna propose us having a kid or something, because now is certainly not the time." At your humour, he sincerely laughed, causing a calm to wash over you and him, as he finally looked you in the face. “Unless you mean buying a plant, our last one died, and now you use the old pot to stub out your blunts." You could see the improvisational container as you turned your head to the side, seeing its white exterior be a gradient of light to shielded grey.

"I want you to move in with me." Sebastian responded straightly, bracing his slightly nervous palms to the divot of your waist, as he grasped the skin below your ribs, swirling the pads of his thumbs across your skin, caressing each nimble pore on that part of your body. His breath captured the side of your neck, as he licked a sweet line across a vein that he specifically picked out using his

"We already live together silly. Unless we're gonna move to mars." As you spoke, your brows optimistically raised, as your forearms found a home around the back of his neck, as you pressed tentative kisses to his clean jaw. A series of giggles evicted from you as you darted your tongue out to taste his sharp skin, your hand slipping down to control his own, trailing his touch beneath your gown so that the tips of his fingers were brushing the mesh of your underwear that was poised in a curve upon your hipbone.

"As much as the space nerd in me would love that, and not to mention you would make one foxy astronaut, I meant, after this, and here, we find a place for just you and me. I get if you don’t-“ you pressed your left forefinger to his lips, humming with a smile as he shared a gentle kiss upon your skin. He took the digit into his mouth, sucking the skin and swirling his tongue around the crescent of your nail.

“That sounds... perfect.” Ushering your finger from out past his lips, and the barrier of his nipping teeth, you languidly stroked his bottom lip, spreading the small extent of saliva that had coated your finger. “I’m so happy you’re taking a break Sebba, you deserve it. There’s something I want to show you baby, I know you’re going to like it.”

“Is it under this robe by any chance?” Obliging his answer with a supporting action, you allowed his hands to remain beneath the sleek material, as you untied the thick strand that tied the two sides together around your body. Pushing the dark silk from your shoulders, you revealed the design of petals that prompted through the thin material of your undergarments, everything exposed through the sultry and intimate pieces.

“Do you like it?” You seemed to have forgotten about Anthony seeing you in the internal wear, and from Sebastian’s honed gazing at your full breasts, your nipples sternly grew hard, telling him without need for word that he was silently turning you on. A sigh escaped from him, as he plucked at the seam of your panties, tugging lightly at the side to drag the material up your slit, grasping a light moan from your intimately affected lungs.

“My lovely petal, like is an understatement. You do all this for me, I don’t think I’m going to know how much this was, especially where we’re supposed to be budgeting.” Seb quirked his unbrushed brow, pressing his lips against the column of your throat, intaking the smell and pungent taste of your floral perfume. “But I’m not going to complain, because seeing you like this is certainly worth a fine penny. Is it ungrateful for me to want it off of you though?”

“Wait.” You instructed him, pressing your tongue into the divot of his chin, swiping a line of saliva through the bone structure. “I think we should get my money’s worth. First, I want to get my fill of your appreciation, and then maybe, maybe then I’ll allow you to discard piece by piece from my skin.” Your dominant hand pressed against his growing bulge as a you slid off his lap, running your nose along his thighs, as you fiddled with the purchase of his jeans, him helping you tug the denim off, and down his thick thighs.

“You’re so good to me.” He leaned back, curling his fists into the sheets, as he watched you enduringly pat him over his boxers, drawing a spot of precum to seep out onto the white cotton. “My beautiful petal, hungry for my cock, you want it, don’t you? Want to suck my hard cock, practically starving for it, ain’t ya?” Profusely nodding, you drooled as he twitched, and pushed down his underwear, revealing his uncut, and growing cock.

“Holy shit.” Escaped you as a breathy conjunction of two words, your palm reaching out to rotate his foreskin in your hand, pushing the layer back gently to reveal his hidden slit. Your tongue darted out over the flushed head, suckling on the sensitive portion, spoiling yourself with the salty taste of his aroused skin. “You have such a pretty cock baby.” Pressing a kiss along the length, you dragged your tongue up his shaft, before returning to the tip, swallowing down his cock in your throat.

“Fuck.” Your boyfriend revelled in the pleasure, one of his hands capturing your hair in its hold, running his fingers through your locks as you bobbed your head. Gargled sounds choked out from your easing throat, as you continued your administrations, making Seb squeeze his eyes shut, as he endured the pleasure that you pledged him with. “Baby...”

You moaned around his cock, your glazed irises peeking up at him, before pulling off, a strand of saliva connecting you to his hung length. “Say it.” Was his demand as his hand pressed the cheeks of your face together, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pout. It was a notion of past experiences that reminded you of what he was speaking of, you blinked your lashes innocently towards him, steadily breathing through your nose as he patiently awaited for you to carry out his order.

“I’m your cockslut.” You mumbled out, spit pooling out of your mouth and rolling down the cleavage of your lips, descending onto your chin, and slipping to be a river down your chest, playing hide and seek in the cups of your sheer bra. “Love your fat cock, and your large balls, and the way your mouth exhibits complete bliss over my pussy.” He tilted your head to the side, as he leaned down, his spare hand reaching behind you to remove your bra, leaving it hanging loosely off from your shoulders.

“How about I eat your cunt, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you petal?” A whine slipped from your lips as you shouldered off the floral laced bra, discarding it on the bedroom floor, as you waded your legs about so that you could do the same with the slim lined panties. “Come on then, get up on the bed pretty girl, let me at that pussy.” Doing as he said, you clambered onto the mattress, your front against the sheets as you tried to position yourself. A slap rumbled off your ass cheek, as Sebastian struck down on the globe of fat, straggling a surprised moan from your lips.

It seemed like he wanted you to remain on your stomach, and so you did as he breathed a swab of cool air upon your clenching lips, swiping his tongue from your heavy clit to your soaking entrance. “Sebs, do something, please.” You collapsed your face into the bed, wiggling your ass towards his face, earning yourself another spank to your behind. It stung, but it was a hot heat that granted you a minor bit of relief; it was certainly better than nothing.

And then, his tongue probed at your entrance, test tasting your cunt as his muscle flicked deliriously over your clit, his forefinger prying at your slit, and slipping without struggle inside of your walls, evoking a withering moan to collapse out from your chest. Another digit slunk through your folds, filling your further, as his pace increased, his mouth surrounding your clit, and rolling the bud around with his instigating tongue. “Petal, pass me the lube.”

With a light head, you blindly reached your hand across to on top of his bedside table, locating the bottle with your fiddling hands, tossing it back towards him. A thump indicates that it did not land on the mattress as planned, instead the container of lubricant hit him in the forehead. A frown covered his face as he shook his head, removing his fingers from your folds, as he grasped the bottle, splurging some of the clear and slippery liquid onto his fingertips.

Seb spread it around his fingers, rubbing it onto his skin, as he applied a little onto your tight hole, prying at your puckered entrance with his lubricated digits. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You gently rubbed your face against the sheets as Sebastian entered his fingers into your ass, quickly thrusting them in and out of you. “Feels so good Sebby, shit.” He continued his administrations with a clenched wrist, evicting pleasure upon you as you practically sobbed onto your shared bed. “No, no-“

He removed his fingers, as well as his own shirt that was still covering his chest. Seb clambered off the bed for a moment, locating a condom, as he gave his cock a couple of jerks, rolling the avast protection onto his length, as he positioned himself on his knees behind you. He entered you swiftly, returning his fingers back into your tighter hole, as he began to thrust into both of your entrances. Sounds of pleasure were compelled out from your lungs, as you half screamed his name; there were tears collecting in the corners of your eyes as you endured wafts pleasure from both intimate angles.

He curled his fingers within you, picking up his pace as his hips profusely clashed against your own. He was chasing a high, whilst simultaneously reducing you to nothing but a racer to your own. “So fucking tight; in both holes.” His teeth clenched as he moaned at the sensation of your walls clenching harshly around him, as he filled the condom with his white and warm seed. He remained inside of you as he brought one hand down to your cunt, playing with your clit, as he sternly thrusted his fingers into your ass.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, cumming around his softened cock, and mewling into your own wrist. Sebastian extracted his tender cock from within you, also removing his fingers, as he swiped off the condom, tying to open side so that no cum would spill out, and then discarding it in the bin. “Shit, I was wanting some attention from you, but I didn’t know I was going to get that.” You laughed lightly, feeling a little hazy and drunk from your numbing orgasm.

In turn, your boyfriend laughed too, grabbing his shirt from off the ground, and lightly pulling you up, helping you into the baggy material. He pressed a sweet kiss upon your forehead as he rolled to be laid beside you, bringing your sweaty body into his matching side, watching through appeased lids at how you curled yourself into him. “I love you darling.”

“I love you too Seb.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his soft nipple, as his arms locked adoringly around you. “And I’m so proud of you for putting your all into your course.” Your nails stroked down his stomach, as the two of you laid upon the sheets, rather than underneath them.

“Of course I would, it’s for our future in the long term of things.” He stated, brushing any loose strands of hair out from your face. “But I guess it’s okay to take a break sometimes. And that, well that was certainly worth the time away from studying, it always is with you.”

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years

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#5: The One With Astruc's Self-Insert

In my introductory post, I said the main inspiration for this blog was @hypocrisyofandrewdobson. For those who don't know, Andrew Dobson is an infamous webcomic artist known for drawing webcomics that tend to demonize people he's come across in public or people who disagree with him online (either critical of his art or his political views), while portraying himself as the victim or wise man calling them out on their differing beliefs.

If you want to learn more about this guy who I consider to be far worse than Astruc, check out the blog in question. And no, I don't know why he draws himself as a blue bear.

Why am I talking about this? It's one thing for some schmuck on the internet to use his work to respond to criticism, but the creator of a popular animated series dedicating an entire episode to attacking his critics and trying to get others to feel bad for him is another story.

The second episode of Miraculous Ladybug's third season, “Animaestro” served as a wake-up call for fans (myself included) to make them realize how immature Astruc could be. The plot centers around the premiere of a movie about Ladybug and Cat Noir directed by Thomas Astruc, who voices himself in the original French dub.

And this isn't just a brief cameo like what Stan Lee did in the MCU. Astruc is the Akumatized person this episode, so there's naturally a lot of focus on him. Throughout the first half of the episode, Astruc portrays himself as this timid man who nobody recognizes or respects, like this idiot who doesn't know what animation is.

Doorman: This is a private event, sir.

Astruc: Huh? Excuse me? I'm Thomas Astruc, the movie director.

Doorman: You filmed Cat Noir and Ladybug? What are they like in real life?

Astruc: Er, it's an animated movie. It's all cartoon characters. We don't actually film anyone. See, there's this whole team that draw the chara—

Doorman: Whatever. Who would want to see Ladybug and Cat Noir as cartoon characters?

Get it? Wasn't that meta joke hilarious? This is how much I was laughing:

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And Astruc continues to get about as much respect as Rodney Dangerfield when he interacts with other characters like Jagged Stone and Chloe.

Jagged Stone: Ladybug is one of my best buds! I can't wait to see her movie!

Astruc: Well I—I'm the director, so actually it's more my movie, so to speak.

Jagged Stone: Oh, so you're the one who created the story?

Astruc: Well, technically the screen writers wrote the story, inspired by Ladybug's exploits.

Jagged Stone: Oh, okay. So you did all the drawings?

Thomas: No, no. The animators do all the drawings.

Jagged Stone: So what do you do then?

(Later on...)

Chloe: So you're the one responsible for this movie?

Astruc: Yes, yes! Exactly! That's me!

Chloe: Then you were the one who left Queen Bee out of the trailer. You're lame, utterly lame.

I can't believe Astruc had a scene where he interacted with Chloe and didn't insult her at all.

The episode is determined to make the audience feel bad for Astruc. Nobody respects him and what he does. Isn't that saaaaaad? Nobody cares about animated film directors like Walt Disney or Tex Avery anyway. Not even these stupid children understand how hard Astruc works.

Several Children: Ladybug! Where's Ladybug?

Astruc: Hey there, kids!

Teacher: Ladybug isn't here children. We came here to meet the director of the movie. Children: (frowning in disappointment) Aww.

(Astruc looks visibly disappointed.)

Way to insult your primary demographic, Astruc. I thought you said kids have a better understanding of these stories when people criticized the writing of a certain episode (It's that scene in “Puppeteer 2” if you're curious/don't value your sanity).

It's almost like you're using that as an excuse to half-ass your work while still getting to claim this show is so groundbreaking.

In case you can't tell, “Animaestro” is one of those episodes. The ones where the showrunners decide to dedicate an entire episode to attacking critics of the show in a blunt fashion. Whenever a show addresses criticism, they either create an obvious strawman character to parrot the opinions of fans who don't like their work, or have someone defend the show and insult the critics directly.

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The problem isn't that they're ignoring criticism. It's their show, and they aren't obligated to listen to critics or fans who don't like the direction the show is taking. On the other hand, they aren't obligated to fight back like this and treat their audience like crap. Any show that does something like the three clips I showed you usually comes off as petty and immature because they dedicate so much time to insulting the critics.

Even during the Akuma fight, Astruc has to call out Ladybug for having problems with his movie in-universe, obviously representing critics of the show Astruc claims have no right to criticize the show while it's still airing.

Ladybug: What's with that trailer too? I am not scared of cats, at all.

Astruc/Animaestro: You haven't even seen the movie and you're already slamming it?

Cat Noir: He does have a point, you know.

Ladybug: I wasn't slamming it. It's called constructive criticism!

Yeah, how dare Ladybug be angry that this movie is portraying her as a powerless coward dependent on Cat Noir as opposed to a confident and brave superhero. She just doesn't understand the genius of Thomas Astruc!

And of course the character Astruc claims is “perfect” is the one to take his side.

And that's another problem with this episode, the metatextual references. Before he gets akumatized, Astuc says he spent three years of his life working on his movie. I get that time in this show is weird (we somehow had episodes taking place on the first day of school, Christmas, Valentine's Day, and the first day of Summer), but how did Astruc's self-insert work on a movie based on a superhero who has only been active for a year? Meta-wise, it's an obvious reference to the scorn Astruc has gotten from fans after working so hard on his show, but the only people who would get that reference are the ones who are aware of Astruc's reputation online.

Self-Insert aside, I actually think the titular Animaestro is one of the more visually impressive Akumas featured on the show. Animaestro takes on several forms based off several different forms and eras of animation, like flash, anime, rubber hose, and they all stand out. Granted, some of them are obvious parodies of other characters like Goku or Sailor Moon, but the actual Akuma fight is fun to watch. According to the Mexican Miraculous Ladybug Twitter account, this episode took two and a half years to create, and it shows. It's too bad the story behind it is completely insufferable, almost like the cartoon equidistant to Pixels.

But then comes the part that honestly makes the episode worth it, mainly for how unintentionally hilarious it is. Do you want to know what Animaestro's weakness is? Do you really want to know?

Animaestro is physically incapable of moving unless someone is watching him. I am not making this up.

Ladybug and Cat Noir literally defeat Animaestro by getting everyone to stop paying attention to him.

I could make so many jokes with this, but I can guarantee you're already thinking of something just as good, if not better, than whatever I write.

And there's the end where Astruc gives Marinette his ticket to the movie, which prompts Marinette to kiss up to him for no real reason.

Astruc: Sorry, I guess you don't know who I am either.

Marinette: Of course do. You're Thomas Astruc, the movie director!

Astruc: She recognized me. Somebody actually recognized me!

Nothing happened to make her change her opinion on the Ladybug movie, she didn't really say anything to him earlier in the episode that connects to this exchange, and outside of a few lines Animaestro said, she doesn't even know why he got akumatized (even though ironically she and Chloe accidentally contributed to it because of the awful subplot involving Kagami I talked about last time). If anything, it comes off less like she actually appreciates Astruc's work, and more like she's stroking his ego just to keep him from getting akumatized again.

So yeah, this episode is awful, and the fact that it came out right after the controversial “Chameleon” only proved to show what kind of direction the show was taking this season.

But honestly, even if Astruc still wanted to make about how he doesn't get enough respect the episode could have potentially. All he had to do was make a simple change: Instead of making it about validation for Astruc as a creator, make it about validation for animation in general.

It's a common misconception that animation is only used for shows and movies aimed at children, so the episode could reflect it. Instead of the huge turnout where several celebrities appear at the premiere, instead, the turnout could be a lot smaller, with the media dismissing it as some stupid kiddie flick. Instead of getting akumatized because he gets humiliated in public/getting no respect from anyone else, Astruc gets akumatized because he sees the audience didn't go wild for the movie after the premiere. All he can hear them say is that it's just “kids stuff”.

So when Astruc is Animaestro, he goes on about how important animation is. How it's helped produce propaganda since World War II. How it helped improve special effects in big blockbusters. How the medium is used to create movies that simply can't be filmed on a physical set.

After defeating Animaestro, Ladybug shows up to talk to him. She had seen the movie earlier, and actually enjoyed it. She had a few problems with the story, but they were just minor nitpicks and inaccuracies Astruc wouldn't know about, and she was blown away by the animation. She tells Astruc not to be deterred by his critics, and continue to do what he does. As a designer in her civilian life, Ladybug knows the joy creating brings her, and both she and Astruc want to spread that joy through their work.

Back at the premiere, Astruc thinks about what Ladybug said to him when he sees some kids reenacting a scene from the movie. Astruc walks over to them and asks what they thought of the movie. They said they loved it and how energetic it was. When he tells them he is the director, the kids' faces light up and they say they want to do what he does when they grow up, bringing a smile to Astruc's face.

Isn't that a much more humble approach instead of what we got? It would have helped Astruc come across as more sympathetic, especially with animation fans. But instead, we got an entire episode of Astruc whining about how misunderstood he is.

And you know the footage used for the movie at the beginning? Remember that, because I have a huge rant about it saved for a later post.

For now, here’s an example of a creator appearing in his work done right.

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

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Hi!! I’ve got a request. I’m not sure if you’ve seen WandaVision or if you watch MCU movies, but I have one that relates to it. How do you think the pillarmen would react to their lovely s/o having abilities like Scarlet witch? Telekinesis, Telepathy, manipulation of reality, force fields, etc. S/o can also technically have flight by using her telekinesis powers too. She’s incredibly powerful! But isn’t physically powerful.

Oh yes! 😮😍🤩 I love Marvel! I grew up watching the movies a lot (you can thank my older brother for that 🤪) and I LOVE this idea, Anon! ❤❤❤

However, I have not seen WandaVision 😭😭😭 IT LOOKS SO GOOD! But I have cruddy internet due to the fact I live far out into the woods 😔 (and the internet has once again thrown spoilers into my eyes like pepperspray) sooo... I can only hope one day I will get the chance to enjoy it 😅

Either way, I do hope you enjoy this! I'm so sorry this took a little longer than anticipated 😅😇 I promise after this request we'll be back to our regularly scheduled writing!

The Pillarmen (separate) with an s/o that has abilities similar to Scarlet Witch...

(Under the cut for length...)

Kars:

• Kars always found your powers intriguing to say the least.

• Even when he first came to the realization that you possessed some sort of "super human" abilities, he found himself wanting nothing more than to study you.

• Perhaps you had done this to yourself by craft or perhaps not...

• In either case, you both were a couple with same differences.

• You could be out there trying to rise to greater power or status (much like he had done crafting his stonemasks), or even go so far as to try and take over the world with your abilities...

• The only problem being that you only found real use for them when reaching for the T.V. remote when it was too far away or manipulating time itself when you were late for work.

• Kars considered giving you some encouragement in using your powers for more but you held no interest in being "powerful" despite the fact you were already powerful!

• And then there was also the matter of you putting your telepathy to use...

• "Are you in the kitchen?" The ghostly whisper of your voice echoing through his mind never failed to send a shiver down his spine.

• "Yes." He replied, frowning into empty air. "Bring me a popsicle." Came the mental command, only making him sigh aloud. "Why can you not just get up and get it yourself? The living room is literally one room over!"

• "You're closer." The simple reply only made him roll his eyes. "And you're the one with super Human abilities, dear." He responded, unable to stop the curl of his lip into a little smirk.

• He was certain he had you now.

• The massive Pillarman could only blink as the fridge to his right started to emanate with a glowing crimson mist, the door suddenly swinging open by itself.

• A single blue popsicle encased in the same mist picked itself out of the freezer and dangled in the air before him before flying out of the kitchen and into the living room before his very eyes.

• "Thanks for reminding me, honey!" Your cheery voice chirped, echoing off the walls of his brain.

• Kars supposed he just had to be content that you were happy with yourself by doing what you wished with your powers...

• Even if it only encouraged you to be lazy.

Esidisi:

• Esidisi, much like Kars, finds you to be a fascinating creature indeed.

• He had no idea that Humans could do such wonderful things without the aid of some kind of craft; like the stonemask that blessed him his own powers.

• He finds it hilarious, not to mention adorable, that you had all sorts of incredible abilities at your disposal and yet... you carried out your life like a normal Human.

• You went to work and paid bills for crying out loud.

• Even from the moment you two met, he always asked you to do things both crazy and (a lot of the times) not a little dangerous.

• He'd ask you to levitate off the ground to reach for something even though he was tall enough to get it, simply because he was amazed you could do so.

• Or he'd plead with you to take him to another reality so he could fight with the robot-pirate empire.

• The man especially got a kick out of the probability manipulation part of your powers.

• "Say, what's the probability my bathtub will be overflowing with rubber ducks when I go in?" He questioned with a grin.

• You pursed your lips, only half paying attention as you were invested in a video game. You hadn't exactly heard his question but still chose to give an answer.

• "Hmm, 170%." Came the reply.

• That was all the Pillarman needed to hear before Esidisi was excitedly scurrying towards the bathroom, practically bouncing as he stopped to make a grab for the doorhandle.

• It was only in that moment when his question truly sunk in with you, making you blink olwishly as you spun around in your seat to stop him. "--WAIT!"

• Too late.

• The flood of rubber ducks hitting him and sweeping him away down the hall as soon as he flung open the door was highly unexpected but very much welcomed by him.

• If anything, you were happy he didn't have a way to obtain these powers himself; then you would have to really use your powers to fix even more problems he made with them.

• However, you wouldn't deny he helped you get some good practice in when making all sorts of requests...

Wamuu:

• Your powers made Wamuu view you as a worthy opponent for a Human, even long before he fell head over heals for you.

• Before meeting you, he had no idea Humans could obtain such incredible feats and abilities.

• He was under the impression that Hamon was the limitation to Human powers.

• But it was more than clear to him that you weren't exactly a fighter despite the fact you could use them for battle.

• After a little persuasion on his part however, he managed to coax you into sparring or training with him in your free time, making the Warrior absolutely elated to see you in action.

• Fighting against you was exhilarating and actually a challenge to Wamuu, he greatly enjoyed every second of it.

• You could easily deflect sharp blasts of his wind with your force fields like nothing.

• To his astonishment, there was not so much as a hair out of place the time he decided to use his Divine Sandstorm on you.

• "Now, make sure you hold onto me and don't let go." You ordered, smiling softly as his massive arms wrapped around your body.

• Wamuu cocked an eyebrow curiously, frowning down at you where you also held him. You had brought him outside and told him that you were going to show him something.

• "What is--?" The Pillarman's words died on his tongue as he suddenly felt his feet lift off the ground, a weightlessness overtaking his body as if he were nothing but a balloon filled with helium.

• He looked down with wide eyes to find that you and him were hovering right off the ground... no, flying!

• The two of you were actually flying and without wings too!

• You could only laugh at his shocked expression, going higher into thee air with every second. His clothes and the wires of his headgear flapped in an invisible breeze as you took him all the way up into the sky.

• Wamuu finally found his voice, his shocked expression now carrying a HUGE smile as his eyes glittered with delight. "My beloved, you're-- You're something absolutely extraordinary!"

• Your powers and the way you use them will never cease to amaze and impress Wamuu. No matter how many times he sees them it always seemed like you had a trick up your sleeve.

Santana:

• From the moment he laid eyes on you, Santana knew there was something very different about you.

• Something... magical. Out of this world.

• You weren't like any other Human he had ever encountered before (and he had definitely me his share of oddball Humans in his life).

• At first he thought that your super Human abilities were some kind of offspring or held some direct link to that "Hamon" ability he knew Humans practiced...

• But with more examination, more time spent with you and some reassurance on your part, he came to find it was in fact something completely different.

• Always curious, Santana liked to watch you use your powers even for just the little things like moving furniture or turning the lightswitch off from across the room.

• Crash! You had heard the vase break form the other room and weren't surprised to find Santana standing over the shattered remains of pottery.

• The red-head looked surprisingly sheepish, he hadn't meant to break it. "Sorry." Was all he said, baby blue eyes dropping down to the mess on the floor.

• A smile appeared as you waved your hand in the air, a bright red fog following your movement. "Don't worry about it," you hummed.

• Santana only stared, lips parted and eyes wide as the pieces suddenly reformed in mid-air. It was as if time went backwards before his very eyes and before he knew it, the vase was standing before him where the mess of shards once was; completely unscathed.

• "See?" You laughed, more than a little amused to see him so astonished. "No problem."

• A soft smile found its way to Santana's lips. You watched the Pillarman lean down and wrap his hands around the pottery gingerly, picking it up and turning it in his palms to check for any signs of breakage.

• "Impressive..." he murmured, making you feel a little boost in pride.

• You couldn't stop yourself from jumping, a yelp escaping your lips, in surprise as Santana suddenly threw the vase down hard on the floor, smashing it to even tinier bits than before.

• His eyes fell on you, still reeling from shock, as he pointed to the mess. "Again?" He questioned.

• ...with great power came great responsibility. And great messes to clean.

• You could only hope he wouldn't break all your plates next just to see you fix them.

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #my wriring #anon ask

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urrone · 2 years

Text

Fic Author Recommendations

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love.

Tagged by @swaps55 thank yooooou

gravity - Julie/Luke, Julie & the Phantoms - This is probably my favorite thing I’ve ever written because of everything I’ve ever written, this is the one where I feel like I absolutely nailed the thesis of it the whole way through. Love doesn’t fix everything, sometimes love means work, means not getting to have the person you want all the time, but that’s not bad. It just is.

Birthdays are different when your boyfriend's a ghost.

What Remains - Sam/Dean, Supernatural - Yes it’s wincest. I like to joke that I hop from fandom to fandom writing one magnum opus in each and maybe a scattering of little ficlets and this one is probably the opus of my opuses. (The latin got away from me, whatever.)

In Jefferson, Texas a man ends a generations-old curse and saves all the town's children, but completely loses his memory in the process. When it's discovered that he's a wanted criminal, the town comes together to conceal him out of gratitude for what he's done for them, giving him an apartment, a job and a whole new life. It takes seven months for Sam to find Dean, and when he finally does, he has to adapt to being around a man who has no idea that he used to be Sam's brother.

For a Single Yesterday - Shepard/Kaidan, Mass Effect - sometimes you just have to write a fic that literally makes you cry the whole way through, even as you’re writing it, and that is this one for me. It was cathartic and painful and exactly like I wanted it to end up, and now I never have to read it again, heh.

“You have to be fine,” he says, but doesn’t put in the message. He sticks it in the outgoing queue. No hails from Shepard before they’d escaped the local cluster. No telling exactly what that wave of green energy had done, if there had even been any ships able to go back and look for him.

Not knowing anything is the most frustrating thing of all.

There’s no telling how long it’ll be before they’re connected to any kind of network again, if ever. Maybe he’ll die of old age on this planet while Shepard searches the galaxy for them. At least Shepard would have survived to search.

The Rest Is Silence - OMC/OMC, Lord of the Rings - I knew even as I was writing this one that it wouldn’t be a crowd favorite because it has no one in it that anyone will recognize, but my first forays into fandom were all RPS and this was the first time I’d tried to match the tone of a published work of fiction and while I don’t think, looking back, that I was necessarily 100% successful, I really still love how this one came out.

It’s the quiet he remembers most. The long hours spent looking off at distant Gondor, the silent beacon of Amon Din towering above him.

And y’all I’ll be perfectly honest, I’m struggling to pick a fifth one. Like the rest of them are FINE, I guess? The one I would pick, I think, doesn’t exist on the internet anymore because it was RPF and one half of the pairing turned out to be a huge asshole who sexually assaults women, so I deleted it. But I was really proud of it at the time, and it did something cool with structure that I was really proud of having pulled off, and one of the lines at the end lives rent free in my head to this day.

As far as picking five new authors goes, swaps tagged me in this five days ago and I have no idea who’s participated and who hasn’t because my life over the last week is just a haze. So if you haven’t been tagged by anyone else and you’d like to participate, feel free to tell people I sent you.

#my fic #memes

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Note

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

#geraskier #laiden #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #aiden #eskel #radio au #long post #tldr: jaskier drives a truck while geralt is a dj

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jayeray-hq · 4 years

Text

The Great Christmas Bake-Off

This is my SFW secret Santa fic for @rice-hime! You have no idea how excited I was to see that you were who I got for the SFW secret Santa, Rice! You were one of my very first requests, and I love all your writing! I know you’ve been having a bit of a tough time lately, so I hope this makes you smile!

Want more Osamu? Check out my Character Masterlist!

Thanks to the amazing @deathcab4daddy for beta-reading for me! Love you Tay! 😊💖 Timeskip/Manga Spoilers! 8.6K words

Warnings: Brief mentions of depression but drowned in Fluff

You stared out the window quietly watching the snow fall, nursing a cup of your favorite hot beverage in your hands. It was Christmas Eve day, and for the first time since you’d started dating your boyfriend, you were home alone. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Osamu was supposed to be on his way back from a business meeting in Tokyo yesterday, but inclement weather meant he hadn’t been able to travel home safely.

When you’d taken his call earlier that morning he’d told you trains were delayed, and there was no word on whether or not they’d be up and running again any time soon. It didn’t help that it had yet to stop snowing. Your poor boyfriend had sounded extremely frustrated and put out with everything when you’d talked, and you’d done your best to assure him that everything would be fine. You’d told him that you’d wait for him, and that you much preferred he get home safe rather than rush and potentially get hurt because of the weather.

You had also made sure to tell him you didn’t blame him for not being able to make it home, that you wouldn’t be angry even if he couldn’t get home until after Christmas. It wasn’t like he could control the weather after all, and the meeting in Tokyo had been incredibly important so it wouldn’t have been possible to cancel or delay it. After all it had been about finally getting approval to open up a branch of Onigiri Miya in Tokyo, expanding his business out of the Hyogo prefecture for the first time.

Both of you had been excited at the possibility of expanding his dream restaurant, and you firmly believed that the chance had been worth potentially missing a single Christmas with him. However, despite your beliefs it didn’t stop you from missing him, from wishing rather desperately that he was there with you and not trapped in Tokyo.

It was probably a bit strange, but you thought it might actually be harder to not have him today than it would be to not have him on Christmas. The two of you had created your own tradition for Christmas Eve, one that you couldn’t imagine doing without him.

It had all started back during the first year the two of you had started dating. Osamu had claimed to have the recipe for the best sugar cookies ever. You’d decided to challenge him, not really understanding just how obsessed your new boyfriend was with eating, and creating the perfect foods.

He’d brought his recipe, one he’d spent several years perfecting, and you’d brought one you found on the internet. The two of you had made both recipes together in the kitchen on Christmas Eve Day, the one day the two of you could find that neither of you had previous obligations for.

Originally, you’d planned to make the cookies separately, each of you making your own, on your own time, but Osamu had insisted on doing the activity together. He’d convinced you that everything had to be done with the same quality of ingredients, the same oven, and in the same space in order for things to be equal. You’d conceded, figuring your new boyfriend was even more of a food nut than you’d initially assumed and finding it rather cute. It wouldn’t be until several years down the line that he’d admitted he’d only insisted so he could spend more time with you.

After the cookies were baked, you then frosted and decorated them with the exact same frosting and tried both for comparison. In the end, you’d been forced to concede that his were much better than the ones from the recipe you’d found, but had sworn you’d find something better by the next year. Thus, your little tradition had been born.

This year you had all the ingredients, bought well beforehand, all the equipment, and your own beautiful kitchen that you shared with your boyfriend. The recipe you’d picked out even had thousands of five-star reviews. The problem, of course, was that you didn’t have your boyfriend. Technically speaking, you could probably do it yourself. You’d made his version of the cookies with him enough times now you could do it in your sleep, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Thus, you’d decided to wait until he came home. Was it a little disappointing not to be able to do it on the day you’d planned? Yes of course, but it couldn’t be helped. However, you’d rather do it on a different day than do it without your boyfriend. It was just one more thing that had gone wrong this year, which hadn’t been all that great considering everything that had happened.

It was honestly wearing, and the blow of not having him there felt far heavier than it would under normal circumstances. Usually you’d be able to shrug it off with a smile and go about your day, but with everything else it felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back. You’d done your best to put on a cheerful, optimistic façade during your phone call with your boyfriend, not wanting to stress him out more than he already was.

However, after that call you’d spent a good majority of your morning feeling out of sorts, listless, and unmotivated to do much of anything but watch the snow fall and hope it would let up soon. You wanted your boyfriend home, not just because you wanted to make cookies with him, but because Osamu gave the best hugs, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be wrapped up in his arms for a while.

The sound of several loud knocks at the door startled you out of trying to quietly calculate how long it might take the snow to stop and when your boyfriend might be home. You hadn’t been expecting any guests today, but the sound of a scraping key in the lock let you know exactly who was at the door before it opened. After all, there was only one person who would knock like he was trying to break the door down and who you’d given a key, even if it had been a rather reluctant concession on your boyfriend’s part.

“Well, ain’t this cheery,” a voice that was both exactly what you wanted to hear, and absolutely not at the same time, announced as your boyfriend’s twin brother breezed into the door. You shivered slightly at the cold wind he let in with his arrival, and turned to watch in bemusement as he stomped off the snow from his boots and began stripping off his outer layers, clearly making himself at home.

“Atsumu,” you greeted, a little puzzled at the blond twin’s sudden unannounced arrival at your home, “What are you doing here? You know Samu is still in Tokyo, right?”

“Is that really the way ya should be greetin’ yer future brother-in-law?” he asked teasingly, a wide grin on his face, “And o’ course I knew! Who do ya think was the first person that scrubby brother of mine called after he got off the phone with ya?”

“Your mother probably,” you countered wryly, “Considering she was probably worried about him, and both of you are too afraid of her to not check in when she wants you to.”

“Okay, so the second person,” Atsumu conceded without argument, making you smirk slightly. It always amused you that the twins were absolutely petrified of getting on their mother’s bad side. The Miya matriarch was a sweet, kindly woman, who absolutely doted on you, but according to the twins she was actually a dragon in disguise and downright terrifying in the same way Kita Shinsuke apparently was. You’d personally never witnessed this so-called terrifying side, but you had bowed to the twins’ experience.

“So what, ‘Samu asked you to check on me?” you asked with a frown. You’d been fairly certain you’d managed to conceal your feelings from your boyfriend, but maybe you hadn’t done as good a job as you’d thought you had.

“Actually, he sent me here ta be yer assistant fer the day,” Atsumu told you with a slight pout on his face, “Somethin’ about subbin’ in fer him and makin’ cookies.”

“You realize you can’t actually sub out for one another in real life, right?” you asked him with a sigh. You were torn between annoyance that your boyfriend would think it was alright to substitute his twin in his place for your tradition, and touched that he wanted you to still be able to do it despite the fact that he wasn’t there.

“Hey! I will have ya know that yer getting’ the superior twin fer the day!” Atsumu protested giving you a cocky smirk, “I even agreed ta put myself at yer disposal and everythin’!”

“What did he bribe you with?” you asked skeptically, well aware the twins, despite being fond of each other deep down, never actually did anything for one another without at least some token bribery.

“I can’t just come ta bake cookies with my brother’s lovely girlfriend outta the goodness of my heart?” Atsumu demanded, clearly affronted. You raised an eyebrow at him, and waited arms folded across your chest.

“Okay so maybe there was a promise of some of those famous sugar cookies fer myself,” he conceded, with a huff.

“Thought so,” you acknowledged with a triumphant smile, ignoring his indignant grumbles about Osamu dating a woman as scary as Kita and their mother.

“Does that mean ya aren’t gonna make cookies with me?” Atsumu whined unhappily, “After I came all this way in the snow and everythin’ just ta help ya out?”

“You literally live a block and a half away,” you protested with a laugh.

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t a cold, wet, and miserable block an a half,” he informed you with a pout, “C’mon please? I never get any cookies from the two of ya, ‘Samu always hogs em all!”

You briefly considered saying no, wanting to uphold the sanctity of tradition. You’d meant what you’d said before, you couldn’t just replace one twin with the other. You loved Atsumu, but he wasn’t your boyfriend, more like a bratty little brother, ironic considering he was technically the older twin. However, even just his presence had been a fantastic distraction from how miserable you’d been before. Besides, Atsumu could be a lot of fun in his own way, and you could always make cookies with Osamu later.

“Fine,” you conceded with a huff, “Let’s make cookies then.”

“Alright!” He cheered his entire face lighting up with a boyish grin, the same grin your boyfriend wore whenever he got to cook something new. It was simultaneously comforting and a bit of a punch to the gut, though you chose to push aside the negative feeling and focus on the positive for now. Even if your boyfriend wasn’t here you still had a friend with you, one who was surprisingly sweet when he wanted to be, and you were grateful for it.

Baking with Atsumu turned out to be absolutely nothing like baking with Osamu. With your boyfriend, the two of you had it down to an art, working with and around one another easily. You trusted one another in the kitchen and were very used to one another’s presence and it showed. Atsumu on the other hand, was a bit of a disaster.

For all that the man was absolutely graceful on the volleyball court, it turned out he was a bit of a disaster in the kitchen. He did admittedly know what he was doing, he just wasn’t as careful as he should be. It meant eggshells accidentally got in the batter and had to be fished out, baking soda and baking powder got confused, the vanilla got knocked over, and flour exploded everywhere when he turned on the mixer, covering the two of you and leaving white residue everywhere.

It took twice as long as it usually did because you spent over half your time babysitting Atsumu to ensure he didn’t screw anything up too badly. By the end of it all you, Atsumu and the kitchen were a mess, but you were smiling. The presence of your boyfriend’s twin having cheered you immensely, mostly because despite how cool they tried to act, both Miya twins were idiots, lovable idiots, but idiots nonetheless.

You were so caught up in Atsumu’s antics that you didn’t notice you’d been joined by someone new, not until an extremely annoyed voice piped up, “Oy, ya scrub! What the hell did ya do ta my kitchen and my girl huh?”

You whirled around surprised to see your boyfriend standing in the entryway, flecks of snow still clinging to his hair and eyelashes as he glared at his twin. Your heart jumped in your chest, a mixture of disbelief and joy swirling inside of you at the sight of him, home where he should be when you’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to make it at all.

“Ya told me to distract her so I distracted her,” Atsumu protested, “And yer the scrubby one ya scrub! I ain’t the one who got stuck in Tokyo after all!”

“’Samu!” you practically barreled into your boyfriend, throwing yourself at him without even bothering to take off your dirty apron. Not that he seemed to mind at all, catching you up in his arms and cradling you to his chest without complaint, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, pressing an affectionate kiss to the side of your head, both of you ignoring the gagging sounds Atsumu was making in the background.

“What are you doing here?” you asked a bit tearfully, “I thought you weren’t going to make it home?”

“And miss Christmas with you, sweets? Not a chance,” he assured you, pulling back a bit so he could cradle your face in one of his large hands, swiping his thumb affectionately along your cheekbone.

“But I thought the trains weren’t running?” you pointed out anxiously.

“They’re not. I rented a car and drove,” he admitted with a casual shrug, as if he hadn’t admitted to making a six-hour drive in terrible conditions.

“’Samu that’s dangerous,” you protested. Your eyes automatically roving over him to assure yourself he was there and in one piece, as your hands clutched at him a reminder that he was solid, warm, and present, “I could’ve waited for you. I would’ve waited for you.”

“I was real careful sweetheart,” he assured you earnestly, “Drove slow and everythin’ plus the highways weren’t so bad, promise. I just really wanted ta be home with ya fer Christmas, and I didn’t want ya to be frettin’ bout me, which is why I sent ‘Tsumu over to distract ya.”

“Well, he did that at least,” you acknowledged with a huff, casting a glance at Atsumu who looked immeasurably pleased with himself.

“And made a right mess of the kitchen while he was at it,” Osamu noted with clear disapproval on his face, as he gazed around the disaster zone.

“Hey, I’ll have ya know we’re equally responsible fer the mess,” Atsumu informed him promptly shifting some of the blame your way, completely unashamed at the blatant lie, “Yer girl helped me out too.”

The completely unimpressed look your boyfriend leveled at him let you know just how much he believed his brother. Which was, of course, not a bit. Osamu knew you were fairly tidy when the two of you worked together, so he knew who was at fault for the mess. Still, you were grateful that Atsumu had come over at all. It was sweet of him in his own way, so you decided you wouldn’t let him take the fall on his own, not this time anyway.

“Don’t worry ‘Samu, Atsumu and I will clean it up,” you assured him, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Your boyfriend let out a long-suffering sigh in response, giving you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. However, he must’ve been feeling pretty indulgent because he went along with it anyway, “Alright sweetheart, let me just put my things away and I’ll help the two of ya clean up.”

“You don’t have to,” you insisted, reluctantly releasing him so he could move away, “Atsumu and I can handle it.”

“Yeah ‘Samu, we don’t need ya,” Atsumu taunted, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling a face at his twin, “So buzz off, or I won’t share any of my cookies with ya!”

“Pretty sure it’s my kitchen and my ingredients ya used to make those cookies,” Osamu pointed out, leveling a glare at his brother, clear annoyance written all over his face.

“And I think I’m the one who made them, bought the ingredients, and it’s my kitchen too, which I believe makes them my cookies,” you informed the twins before they could really start squabbling, “And I won’t be sharing with either of you if you don’t behave. ‘Samu go put your things away and get settled in, and Atsumu we have a kitchen to clean.”

The twins exchanged glances over your head, one of those looks that spoke volumes and sometimes made you wonder if they could read one another’s minds. However, in the end they conceded, Osamu ambling down the hall with his bags and Atsumu joining you to clean up the mess in the kitchen, though not before Osamu pressed an affectionate kiss to your cheek.

Between the two of you it didn’t take too long to clean the kitchen up, and get everything looking pristine. It did slow down a bit when Osamu returned from your bedroom and began ‘supervising’ meaning heckling his brother and generally being a pain as he insisted things weren’t clean enough.

By the time you finished, all the cookies were out of the oven and completely cooled, which meant it was time for frosting. Luckily this time things went much faster as Atsumu was firmly pushed out of the kitchen by Osamu, who insisted it was only right he take over since it was his tradition with you. Atsumu whined, but had eventually been appeased by you agreeing to let him lick the spoon.

You laid out several bowls and split up your icing, quickly deciding to do red, yellow, green, and white for your colors to make it nice and simple. Or at least it should’ve been nice and easy, if not for Atsumu’s commentary.

“Is that supposed to be red?” Atsumu asked, casually licking frosting off as he watched his brother add food coloring to the frosting, “Cuz I’m tellin’ ya it definitely looks pink from where I’m standin’.”

A quick glance over your boyfriend’s shoulder proved that it was a little on the pink side, but getting a true red with frosting was extremely difficult without adding enough food coloring to stain your mouth. Though the comments didn’t stop there either.

“Is that really a Christmas green? I’m thinkin’ it looks kinda pastel, don’tcha think ‘Samu?” he pressed eyeing the other bowl, “I hope ya don’t think I’m gonna be decoratin’ my cookies with such a weak lookin’ color.”

“Who says yer getting’ to decorate any cookies at all, huh?” Osamu demanded flatly.

“I did, cuz I helped make ‘em,” Atsumu informed him bluntly, “And I’m gonna do a much better job than you could even dream of.”

“Oh, ya think so do ya?” Osamu asked, his eye twitching slightly in clear annoyance.

“I know so,” Atsumu informed him smugly.

“Then how about a bet?” your boyfriend proposed, with a challenging stare at his brother, “Whoever decorates the best cookie wins.”

“What do I get when I win?” Atsumu demanded, as you watched them go back and forth feeling a bit like a spectator at a tennis match.

“The cookies o’ course,” Osamu proposed evenly, staring his brother down.

“No way! I was supposed to get ‘em anyway fer comin’ over here to help out, and I ain’t wagerin’ ‘em fer nothin’ in return,” Atsumu protested, vehemently.

“Fine, the cookies an I’ll make ya bento fer a week,” Osamu countered, “But in return when I win, I get the cookies an’ you have ta deal with Ritsu Baa-chan at the annual holiday party.”

You snorted at that, trying hard not to laugh at Atsumu’s terrified expression. Ritsu Baa-chan was their grandmother’s sister, their great aunt. She was honestly a rather sweet elderly woman, but she was also a bit blind and couldn’t tell the twins apart despite having different hair colors. She also liked to pinch cheeks a lot, and tended to go on long tangents about her youth.

“That’s unless yer chicken?” your boyfriend taunted, well aware his brother would fall for it.

“Fine, yer on, but she ain’t allowed to judge,” he compromised, the sudden finger in your face making you flinch in surprise. Honestly, you’d thought the twins had forgotten you were there for a moment, so the unexpected acknowledgment was a bit baffling.

“Don’t point at her. It’s rude,” ‘Samu scolded, smacking Atsumu’s hand with the back of the frosting covered spoon he’d been using to mix, making the blond yelp in surprise and indignation, “And who’s gonna judge if not her eh? Don’t tell me yer tryin’ to say somethin’s wrong with my girlfriend.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with her!” Atsumu conceded immediately, shooting you an apologetic look. For all the twins argued, he’d always been extremely courteous to you outside a bit of teasing, so you weren’t at all hurt, “But she still can’t judge, she’ll just pick ya and won’t give me a fair chance cuz yer her boyfriend!”

“So, who’s gonna judge then?” your boyfriend asked skeptically, “Everyone we know likes me better.”

“That ain’t true!” Atsumu pouted at him, as he absently licked the frosting off the back of his hand, earning a disgusted look from his twin, “Everyone knows I’m the superior twin!”

You watched them squabble for a minute as you considered their little conundrum. Osamu had told you back in high school he’d been known as the ‘nice twin’ of the two of them. It was actually a little hilarious to you, as the longer you’d spent around your boyfriend, getting to know both him and Atsumu by extension, the more you realized he wasn’t actually nicer. He just hid it better.

According to Aran, your one trustworthy source on what the twins had been like in high school, things had gotten better as the twins matured, Atsumu becoming a little less uptight, and Osamu a little more open. When you’d met Osamu in college and then Atsumu shortly after, you wouldn’t have pegged either of them as nice or better necessarily, until you’d gotten to know them. Osamu was simply a bit more laidback than his twin, sarcastic, and witty. He was a bit more conscious of the people around him, and their opinions. He was also quieter and less prone to emotional outbursts. It made him come off a bit more thoughtful and mature, though he definitely still had his moments. He was meticulous and incredibly sweet when he wanted to be.

Atsumu on the other hand, was a ball of energy- impulsive but fun. If he loved something he loved it wholeheartedly, and if he hated something he hated it just as ardently. He definitely came off as less mature, and a bit more naïve in some ways as well, which was why you’d never been able to see him as anything more than a good friend or younger brother figure despite being head over heels for his twin.

You wouldn’t call the two of them opposites per se, but you would say to those who knew them knew that the twins were very different. It meant that despite them sharing a lot of the same friends, most of those friends had a ‘favorite’ of the twins, one whose company they preferred even if they liked both of them. It made having someone neutral to be the judge of the outcome of the little bets they liked to make with each other a bit of an interesting conundrum.

The only two friends you could think of off the top of your head who both twins would agree on as neutral were Aran and Kita. However, you weren’t about to let the twins pester their friends on Christmas Eve. Luckily, there was one person who was guaranteed neutral that not even the twins would argue against, and who wouldn’t mind having you call, would in fact probably enjoy it a lot.

“Why don’t we ask your mom to judge then?” you cut in, breaking off their little tiff, “We should call her tonight anyway, to wish her happy holidays. You let her know you got home safely didn’t you ‘Samu?”

“Course I did,” your boyfriend agreed looking a bit horrified that you’d think he wouldn’t, “I ain’t a scrub like ‘Tsumu.”

“A guy forgets to text one time,” Atsumu whined, looking more than a bit traumatized at the mere mention of the wrath he’d apparently brought down on his head for forgetting.

“Then we’ll have her judge,” you told them, ending the argument you knew could last hours if you didn’t intervene, “It will be nice to talk to her later anyway.”

The twins exchanged another of their speaking looks, but in the end agreed to do things your way. In order to be fair, you split up the cookies and frosting as evenly as you could between the three of you, and set to work.

Honestly, you probably should’ve known it would be a disaster. The twins had always been competitive, and liked to do anything they could to win, which apparently meant sabotage. It had started off innocently enough, and you were fairly sure it was an accident. Atsumu’s elbow had knocked into an open bottle of red sugar sprinkles and tipped the whole thing on to one of Osamu’s cookies.

Your boyfriend had been outraged of course, and immediately tried to retaliate by smearing red frosting on to Atsumu’s green Christmas tree. It had only escalated from there, as sprinkles and frosting flew, Osamu’s usual concern for his kitchen flying out the window in the face of competition with his brother.

Luckily, you’d had the foresight to put yourself outside the disaster zone, well aware there was nothing that brought out immaturity from your boyfriend quite like Atsumu. Therefore, instead of stressing, you got to watch, thoroughly entertained from the side lines. Taking a leaf from Suna’s book, you recording some of it on your phone, fully prepared to share it later.

You couldn’t help the quiet giggles that escaped your lips as you watched their antics, giggles that devolved into side splitting laughter as Osamu, fed up with having sprinkles flicked at him by Atsumu, dipped his hand into the frosting and smeared it all over his brother’s face.

Both twins froze at the sound, your boyfriend giving you a soft fond look, the kind he reserved just for you. He quickly abandoned his cookies to come over to where you were sitting so he could wrap his arms around you.

“Samu you’re getting frosting all over me,” you protested with a laugh even as you hugged him in return, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“Ya know ya love it, sweetheart,” Osamu teased affectionately, “Besides weren’t ya the one who got flour all over me earlier?”

You hummed in agreement, sighing contentedly in his arms. You probably could’ve stayed there for a good while longer, except you were interrupted by a very pointed throat clearing.

“I’m still here ya know,” Atsumu pointed out clearly disgruntled, “Can’t ya save yer gross coupley stuff until I don’t have to watch?”

“Yer just jealous,” Osamu brushed him off, squeezing you affectionately and shooting his brother a look over your head, “Ya don’t have to watch ya know. Yer free to leave at any time.”

“An’ leave ya alone to sabotage my cookies?” the blond demanded self-righteously, “What do ya think I’m an idiot or somethin’?”

The look your boyfriend gave his brother for that question was really all the answer that was needed. You coughed, pressing your face into his neck to stifle your giggles at the extremely indignant look on Atsumu’s face.

“I ain’t gonna sabotage yer cookies, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu informed his brother, resting his cheek on top of your head, “I don’t think they could get any uglier if I tried.”

“An whose fault is that!” Atsumu protested, as easily riled as usual, “Besides it ain’t like yers are any better!”

It was true both of their cookies were complete and utter disasters, a smear of frosting all blended together into an ugly brownish color with only hints of the previous green and red. Mounds of sprinkles were smeared in and thrown everywhere in a mish mash of colored sugar some on the cookies but a lot on the floor. They honestly barely looked edible, even though you were sure the taste was probably fine. They were, truthfully, some of the ugliest cookies you’d ever seen in your life.

“Still better than yers,” Osamu countered stubbornly, “I’m still gonna win.”

“Like hell ya are, mine are clearly superior!” Atsumu retorted.

“We’ll leave that up to Miya-san to decide,” you cut in before they could really start bickering again, “In the meantime, why don’t we all get cleaned up.”

You glanced pointedly at Atsumu’s face, still covered in flecks of frosting despite his attempts to wipe it clean, along with the globs on his shirt, and at Osamu’s hair, which was shedding sprinkles everywhere.

Atsumu grimaced down at this shirt, pouting at the frosting that covered it, and promptly reached for the hem, clearly ready to strip it right off. He didn’t get very far, as Osamu promptly released you to smack at his twins hands.

“The hell! Don’t just start strippin’ ya scrub!” your boyfriend protested.

“Why not?” Atsumu protested genuinely baffled, “It ain’t like ya’ve never seen it before ‘Samu, we shared a room fer years.”

“Do ya always just casually take yer shirt off in front of girls without warnin’?” Osamu asked aggrieved, “No wonder ya can’t get a girlfriend!”

“Oy! I’ll have ya know the ladies love when I take my shirt off,” Atsumu informed him snottily.

“Well my lady doesn’t,” Osamu informed him, gesturing to where you were sitting, watching the whole thing play out.

“Why would she mind?” Atsumu pointed out snottily, “If she’s seen ya naked, she’s basically seen me too.”

“Eww no,” you interjected, unable to resist, your face scrunching up in disgust, even as your boyfriend smacked his brother over the back of the head.

“What do ya mean eww no?” Atsumu demanded clutching at his head and turning slightly watery eyes on you, glaring in offense, “We’re twins! We look the exact same!”

“’Samu is sexy,” you explained with a shrug, unable to resist teasing him a little, “You’re just… you.”

Atsumu squawked in indignation, clearly very offended, though your boyfriend just looked amused, winking at you from behind his brother’s back and adding, “That’s right, so keep yer damn shirt on ‘Tsumu, no one wants to see it.”

“But it’s got brown gunk all over it,” he whined gesturing at the rather unfortunately colored frosting smeared down his front from where he’d wiped his face clean with it, “It looks like someone wiped their ass with it!”

You choked at the realization that he was unfortunately correct, nearly falling off your chair as you were overtaken by laughter again. Really, the twins could start their own comedy show, you had the feeling they’d make a killing. It was no wonder Suna had managed to collect so much blackmail on them over the years, the two of them really made it too easy.

“So, go home and change then stupid,” Osamu informed his brother flatly, though you could tell from the way his lips twitched that he also found it terribly amusing.

“No way!” Atsumu griped, “If ya don’t want me shirtless in front of yer girlfriend then just let borrow a shirt ya jerk!”

“Go get yer own,” your boyfriend countered, completely unimpressed, “No way in hell am I lendin’ ya one of mine again. I’ll never get it back.”

“Yer so cruel ‘Samu, and here everyone still thinks yer the nice twin,” Atsumu informed his brother snottily, “Tryin’ to send me out into a storm like that!”

Surprised you glanced at the window only to find Atsumu was right, the weather had gone from bad to worse. Enormous flakes of snow falling from the sky, coming down so hard you could barely see the blurred outline of the home across the street from yours. It looked like a genuine blizzard out there. It looked absolutely nasty, and even though he did live fairly close by you were hesitant to send Atsumu out in it.

You glanced at your boyfriend, and he clearly saw the concern on your face because he heaved a sigh and nodded in acknowledgment.

“Fine ‘Tsumu, but yer changin’ in the bathroom so ya don’t make a mess in our room, and ya ain’t leavin’ in it. Rinse yer shirt while yer in there and toss it in the wash,” Osamu ordered as he grabbed hold of his brother hauling him away down the hall, completely ignoring Atsumu’s protests at being manhandled.

You smiled after them for a moment, amused. You knew without a doubt, no matter how much he griped about it, that Osamu would never have sent Atsumu home when the weather was like this. Which meant you should probably resign yourself to having a guest for the night. Not that you minded all that much.

You’d known from the beginning that while they were separate people, the Miya twins came as a set. If you were going to be dating Osamu, Atsumu was going to be part of your life, that was a simple, inarguable fact. You were just glad you got along well with him, even if having the two of them together did end with your kitchen a complete and utter disaster area for the second time that day.

Huffing a sigh, you finished up the last of your own cookies that you’d carefully kept out of the line of fire, covered them and hid them in one of the cupboards. You were well aware if you didn’t they were bound to get snitched by one of the twins. With your cookies safe, you surveyed the mess that was the kitchen and grabbed a cloth intent on getting things cleaned back up again while you had the chance.

Your work was interrupted by the feel of strong arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you upright and back into a solid chest. You immediately relaxed into the embrace tilting your head back against your boyfriend’s shoulder so you could see him.

“Hi there,” you greeted affectionately, tossing the rag you’d been using to wipe things down on to the counter in favor of wrapping your arms over his, savoring the feeling of being held.

“Hey sweetness,” he returned, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, “I missed ya.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted quietly, “I’m so glad you made it home, even if you really should’ve stayed where it was safe.”

“Like I’d let somethin’ as stupid as a snowstorm keep me away from my girl on Christmas Eve,” Osamu scoffed, “This is our day. I wasn’t gonna miss it fer anythin’ sweetheart.”

You hummed in response, feeling immeasurably comforted by the feel of him wrapped around you, the loneliness and depression chased away completely by the afternoon’s laughter and the warm presence of your boyfriend.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked quietly as he rocked the two of you back and forth, the motion familiar and soothing. You’d learned early on he was completely unable to stay still for any length of time unless he was sleeping, a trait he shared with his twin.

“It was good. The investors are all in, looks like we’re gonna get our new shop in Tokyo after all,” he told you, clear pride in his voice.

“Our shop huh?” you asked teasingly, more than a bit touched that he said it so easily. Onigiri Miya was his dream after all, and the fact that he shared it so openly with you meant the world.

“O’course sweetheart,” he told you, “I…!”

Unfortunately, whatever he might’ve wanted to say after that was interrupted by the untimely arrival of his brother, who reappeared, dressed in a clean shirt, all traces of frosting removed from his person.

“Oy! This place is still a disaster! I thought ya said ya were goin’ ta help her clean, ‘Samu?” he demanded, turning judging eyes on the kitchen.

You sighed, partly annoyed and partly amused at the sheer audacity of the blond twin, as Osamu reluctantly untangled himself from you. The glare he sent his twin would’ve had lesser men cringing away, but Atsumu was unfortunately rather immune by this point.

“Ya have no sense of timing at all do ya, ya scrub?” Osamu asked him rhetorically, heaving a put-upon sigh before smacking his brother over the back of the head in punishment and shoving a cloth in his hands, ordering to, “Help clean too, ya ungrateful jerk! Since half this mess is yers anyways.”

Luckily, though they squabbled through the whole thing, they did manage to get things cleaned up, just in time for dinner. The snow was still coming down hard, so you quickly invited Atsumu to stay, though Osamu ordered him to stay out of the kitchen. He went, though you quickly sent Osamu after him, insisting that he’d had a long day of travel and didn’t need to cook tonight as you’d fully planned to cook for the two of you.

Osamu gave you a soft look for that, one that got him thoroughly teased by Atsumu for being a sap. Your boyfriend pressed a quick, chaste kiss to your lips before joining his brother to stream the latest Black Jackals game on the tv, clearly fully intending to heckle his brother over any mistakes he made while you put together something for all three of you to eat.

Dinner was lively and enjoyable as Osamu told the two of you more about the meeting in Tokyo. Apparently, the area they were looking to open the next restaurant was in a prime location, and construction would start after the new year once the property lease was signed. If things went well it would be open before summer, which was incredibly exciting.

In turn, Atsumu shared some of what he’d been up to with the Jackals. He had a lot of funny stories to tell about the players you’d met briefly and heard lots of stories about from their high school days. His stories about Hinata Shouyou, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Bokuto Koutarou in particular were always amusing, mostly because they were always teasing him in some way, never allowing him to get his way completely.

The twins also asked you some about what you’d been up to, and you shared the things that you knew they’d find interesting, little anecdotes about your day, or small stories you knew would make them laugh. It was honestly heartwarming how both of them worked to include you in their dynamic, trying to ensure you never felt excluded, and you understood how very much it meant that they tried so hard for you.

After dinner the three of you gathered together at the twins insistence to video call their mother. The kindly woman answered on the third ring, and immediately leveled a suspicious look at the twins.

“What did the two of ya do now?” she asked clearly resigned to whatever antics the twins had gotten up to this point. You giggled, unable to help yourself at the identical expressions of offense on their faces.

“Oh, hello darling!” their mother greeted you warmly, “How are ya doin’? Are these two rascals causin’ trouble fer ya?”

“Hello Miya-san,” you returned just as warm, to the woman who’d gladly welcomed you into their family with open arms, nudging your face into the frame so you could see her better, “It’s good to see you!”

“You too dear, and I told ya, no need for Miya-san, call me kaa-san okay? Yer my future daughter-in-law after all!” she told you jovially, making you flush slightly, pleased and a little flustered, glancing hesitantly at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t look at all bothered by the insinuation, simply watching you with a fond look in his eyes.

“Kaa-san then,” you agreed a little shyly, earning a beaming smile in return.

“What can I do fer ya tonight darlin’?” she asked, both of you ignoring the way Atsumu was grumbling to his brother about how unfair it was that their mother loved you more than she loved them.

“The twins are having a bit of a contest and we were hoping you’d be a neutral judge,” you told her with an amused grin.

“Really?” she asked partly amused, partly resigned, “Again? Ya would’ve thought at their age they’d stop doin’ silly things like this, but I shoulda known. I really probably shoulda stopped ‘em the very first time they brought me the prettiest rocks they could find and asked which I liked better when they were toddlers. It was too cute at the time though, and I didn’t have the heart ta tell em to knock it off.”

“That is cute,” you told her with a helpless little grin, giving your boyfriend, who was pointedly not looking at you, a fond look trying not to giggle at the slight pink tinge on his cheeks. He at least was doing better than Atsumu who was fire engine red and sputtering indignantly.

“So, what did they do this time?” she prompted, looking all too amused at having managed to embarrass them both, the vicious twinkle in her eyes reminding you yet again where the two of them had gotten their mischievous side from.

“Decorated Christmas cookies,” you told her wryly amused, “I’ve been volunteered to show them to you, so you don’t know whose is whose.”

The two of you exchanged eye rolls at that, both completely done with how seriously the twins took their ridiculous contests. It was a little hilarious honestly while also being simultaneously endearing and annoying.

“Let’s see it then,” she agreed, heaving a put-upon sigh.

You did as asked, holding up the plate with the two cookies. The twins had each chosen the one they thought came out best from their lot, though that wasn’t saying much considering they all looked rather terrible. The look on her face let you know that their mother shared your thoughts on this as she deadpanned at the cookies, which were a complete and utter mess.

“Is yer kitchen still intact?” she asked, her spot-on guess startling you into laughter as the twins both gave indignant shouts, Osamu insisting he would never destroy his own kitchen, and Atsumu indignant at being accused of destroying kitchens in general.

“It was a bit of a mess for a while, but they cleaned it up for me,” you answered easily, completely ignoring the pout sent your way from Atsumu and the betrayal on the face of your boyfriend for outing them to their mom.

“Well there’s that at least,” she conceded with a put-upon sigh, “Did ya save any of the cookies fer yerself darlin’.”

You grinned at her and stood, retrieving your own nicely decorated cookies from where you’d hid them earlier to show them off to her, “I did kaa-san, these ones are for me, and for the holiday party in a couple days.”

“Yer such a good girl,” she praised with a proud smile, “It’s no wonder yer my favorite child.”

“Oy!” both twins protested, clearly indignant, though Osamu looked torn between indignation and pride. Still she completely ignored them with the ease of long practice.

“I think it’s obvious who the winner is dears, hers are much better than either of yers,” their mother proclaimed, her word clearly final, making the twins sulk.

“How did ya know somethin’ went wrong with ours anyway?” Atsumu whined, taking his own cookie from the plate and shoving it into his mouth rather mutinously.

“I’m well aware neither of ya have much in the way of artistic skills,” their mother informed him with a put-upon sigh, “But that was bad even for the two of ya. Besides I’m yer kaa-san, it’s my job ta’ know.”

You giggled at that, well aware that it was the truth. Osamu could make a very pretty plate of food when he wanted to, but only when he was copying someone else. He didn’t seem to have a single original bone in his body when it came to design or aesthetics even if some of the recipes he came up with were absolutely inspired. Atsumu also could pull off beautiful movements, and plays in volleyball that were enough to impress the most seasoned of professionals. However, you’d seen him attempt to color before and the man could barely keep within the lines. There was no doubt the twins were talented, but artistic they were most certainly not.

With the cookie judgment out of the way, the rest of the conversation was nice and casual. The family was actually due to meet up in a few days, and you were looking forward to it. The Miyas had treated you like family from the very first time Osamu had brought you home, welcoming you with open arms, and you never failed to feel included and loved when they had their gatherings.

It didn’t hurt that your boyfriend never failed to keep an arm around you the entire time. The affectionate gesture garnered only approval from his relatives, even as it reassured you of his presence at your side.

By the time you’d finished up your conversation with the twins’ mother it was fairly late, and just as you’d expected the snow was still coming down rather heavily. Atsumu had made one, incredibly half-hearted attempt to leave, and Osamu one even less fervent attempt to push him out the door. Attempts that your fervent insistence he stay in the guest room, one that was basically his anyway, easily overrode.

The three of you chatted for a while longer, but eventually the long day caught up with your boyfriend. Atsumu teased him a bit about going to bed early like an old man, but considering he was yawning just as badly at that point, he didn’t really have a leg to stand on. You’d ushered both of them off to bed, following Osamu into your shared bedroom. The two of you had your night time routine down pat by now, easily working around one another to get ready for bed.

You’d just settled down on the side you’d claimed for yourself when you were gently tugged forward, your boyfriend pulling you into his arms. You went without a fuss, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar comforting scent.

“Thanks for today,” you told him, lifting your face so you could look him in the eye. You were more than a bit sleepy after all the activity from the day, but you really wanted to tell him this before you let yourself fall asleep, “For sending Atsumu to cheer me up, for distracting me and making me smile.”

You were well aware that both twins had played up their antics a bit for you today. Yes, they bickered, but it had been a bit over the top even for them. It was only as you’d been talking to their mother that you realized how well they’d distracted you from the glum mood you’d been in, not just earlier that day but for a while now as things had begun to weigh on you. You’d thought you’d hidden it well, but apparently your boyfriend knew you too well for that and had gone out of his way to help cheer you up, even dragging his brother into it.

“I’m the one who should be thankin’ you,” he pointed out gently brushing his fingers over your cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “Fer puttin’ up with his whiney ass, especially since he destroyed our kitchen twice.”

There was a tenderness in his face and voice that belayed his words as he casually brushed off your thanks, one that let you know he knew just how much it had meant to you, and that he was just pleased it had worked. He’d always said he didn’t need thanks for being there for you, for cheering you up when you were down, or holding you when you needed it, and it seemed he was determined to stand by those words.

“He was sweet,” you protested a bit on his behalf, accepting the gentle redirection with grace and giggling a bit at the skeptical look he gave you for that assertion, “Besides it was partly your fault the kitchen got destroyed a second time.”

“Keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna start ta think ya prefer him over me,” he grumbled at you a slight pout on his lips, one that you were quick to press a smacking kiss to, your over dramatics making him smile.

“You know you’re my favorite Miya twin, ‘Samu,” you told him earnestly, gently brushing his dark hair back from his forehead and meeting his eyes, hoping he could see the honesty in your own, “Always and forever.”

“If ya say it like that sweetheart, then I guess I’ve got no choice but ta believe ya,” he told you, a faint smile tugging his lips upwards, the soft look he reserved just for you on his face, “Cause always and fer ever is just exactly what I’m after with ya.”

“Good,” you told him, nuzzling your nose against his, and smiling into the soft kiss he pressed to your willing mouth, “that’s all I want, for this Christmas and for every Christmas to come.”

“Ya’ve got me sweetheart,” he assured you, his voice warm and filled with promise.

“I love you, ‘Samu,” you murmured to him tiredly, unable to help the yawn that took you over. You were utterly exhausted.

“I love ya too sweetness,” he affirmed fervently, gently tucking you into his chest and settling the two of you comfortably into the bed, “sleep well.”

You hummed in agreement, unaware that as you fell asleep his eyes were locked on the bedside table, quietly contemplating the future and the small precious box he’d hidden in there earlier, where it would be safe from your prying eyes. He’d thought he’d had the perfect moment earlier when you’d asked why he’d called the new Tokyo branch ‘ours’ instead of his, but then ‘Tsumu had interrupted.

That was alright though. He had time. Time to figure out just what he wanted to say, and time to ensure you really truly understood how much you meant to him. You’d said always and forever, and he intended to hold up his end of the bargain, for this Christmas and every Christmas to come.

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #osamu #osamu fluff #miya osamu fluff #haikyuu!!#osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #haikyū!!#haikyu fluff #JayeRayWrites

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 3

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Peter always unapologetically stealing all the uwus. It’s the MCU law, sorry, didn’t make it. Tony Stark can ✨rail me✨. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves THE WORLD! I’m not kidding. Please visit her and show her some love, my homegirl is stressed 💖✨

I didn’t see Bruce nor Tony for a week. The doctor was away on some science conference (he sent me one dorky selfie next to a whiteboard full of barely intelligible equations as proof), Tony was in California, having some sort of a board meeting. How do I know? Peter, out of lack of better things to do, constantly texted me updates on his science patron’s whereabouts and what-abouts.

In times like these, it took me for a loop - I was on a first name basis with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. In the beginning, I was intimidated - I avoided them both like the plague and tinkered in the lab with headphones on whenever I could, until Tony made a comment so snarky I couldn’t resist joking back. That’s not to say Bruce was a social butterfly, but even he gave into my tomfoolery after seeing me stand calmly throughout several of Tony’s hissy fits.

What amazed me even more so was that despite Tony being literally an insufferable little brat, I still longed after him. Sure, the man was hot as hell - but his physical traits were much less significant when it came to my feelings towards him than the amount of sheer drive and willpower he possessed. He was stubborn - that’s another trait we shared - and unapologetically himself in every damn situation.

I could write poetry about the million expressions in his face, about the shine in his eyes.

But I won’t. He’s a technical guru. Ever since I started hanging around the tower, I became much more conscious about what I posted online. Not to say I had a Stark fan blog or anything, but I’d stopped scrolling through the tag, even if I didn’t actually click on any articles. I dutifully reblogged pictures of Tom Ellis instead - while he was a very fine, distinguished man, he wasn’t Tony Stark. I enjoyed looking at the first and enjoyed being around the other. And even though my feed still had the occasional “I love arm” shitpost, I focused on aesthetic pictures and quotes instead - things I had an active internet presence for.

My personal life wasn’t very interesting. I didn’t have any close friends and any and all sex I’ve had was just a bunch of one night stands, fueled by alcohol, selfish lust and the occasional joint. Despite having a fair share of kind, generous lovers, the morning after left me feeling a little bit emptier every time. I thought about getting a boyfriend or something… But quickly became totally clueless as to where I could find one. Men under twenty-five could barely hold my interest long enough to have a casual chat and I wasn’t naive enough to think there were a lot of honest, well-intentioned thirty-somethings that wanted to date my high school ass.

Peter had a crush on me, I knew that. The boy developed one or another kind of feelings for anybody who showed him the tiniest bit of kindness and it alarmed me. In any other case I would have bailed on him, gently, of course, to spare him the disappointment but my selfishness got in the way. I regretted it every day. A wave of desperation rose in me every time I thought about moving on without seeing Tony or Bruce, without Peter shyly smiling at me as he explained how the things he created worked. A faint hope that one day, his schoolboy puppy love will grow into a brotherly kind of regard was the only thing that kept me afloat in my sea of guilt.

As the Fall rolled around, so did my gloomy mood. It was hard to be sad when the sun was shining and the birds were chirping outside, but with clouds hanging over the city like a lead curtain, the bottled up negativity rose to the surface uninvited. Mother had returned from her business trip, adding an uncomfortable, hollow sort of chill to the house wherever she stood. I don’t know what was worse - the hours we spent in one room ignoring each other or the immaculately structured questions she asked me about my studies and extra-curriculars. Mother didn’t ask me about my friends, or my feelings or any of the other things a mother was supposed to give a damn about.

I was an asset to her company and that was that. If you would have asked her, she would tell you I’m old enough for her to mind her own business - which was technically true. Yet according to her, I’ve been old enough since seventh grade. My dad answered his messages sporadically, sometimes with a two-word answer and sometimes with a cocaine and booze fueled rant eleven texts long. I felt sorry for him. I really did.

My phone was blowing up. Party invitations, likes from people I saw once or twice (“oh my god, you’re, like, so hot, what’s your Insta”), DMs from guys looking to score an easy piece of ass. I never answered. If I wanted to party, I just sort of showed up and everybody went along with it. I took care of my appearance and it showed - never once was I turned away from a party. Everyone wanted to dance, to share their drinks, to light up and get faded together and fade into the city, into the cold air and grey sky.

Skirt swaying and top clinging to my chest, I danced. The sweaty, heated bodies around me did the same. Not one of us cared, it was a Tuesday night and the place packed way too many people. An arm snaked around my waist, startling me. I had to begrudgingly crack open an eye to see the bastard in the dimly lit room.

“I saw you at the bar, you looked bored. Maybe you need something to cheer you up?”

So not a creepy rapist. Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer. At house parties like these, there was always The Guy. He never danced, he sipped on the same drink all night yet always looked like he was having the time of his life. I was no stranger to the occasional joint, or even something more stimulating…

“I got the good stuff, sweetums, you’ll be fine and dandy in no time.”

Eh, what the hell. I inconspicuously danced with the guy to the middle of the crowd, exchanging a few crumpled dollar notes for a baggie of two pills. In no time, I chased one down with a hastily poured Jack.

The world did become better, as the drug dealer promised. People were nicer, friendlier and I almost didn’t believe mother was a useless, stone cold bitch. I almost didn’t care that I was deeply, madly in love with a man as unreachable as Olympus. If I squinted, the guy sitting at the bar looked kind of like Tony, tan, dark hair, worn jeans and a band tee.

So I danced. I danced and I stared right at him and then we danced some more. I closed my eyes, letting his arms grab me and pull me, I let his beard scratch my neck where he sucked a mark on me, I let his rough palms choke me against a wall in one of the bedrooms on the second floor of the house. It felt good to be wanted. It felt great to be needed as he rutted inside of me, hitting that sweet spot with every twitch of his hips.

It felt lonely when he left, pressing a kiss to my forehead and saying something dumb like “Be good, kid.”. I don’t remember what exactly it was, only that I had to turn my face away from his breath that reeked like weed and vodka.

To shake off the void that made home inside of my chest, I went to the roof to get some fresh air. The house had a nice patio on it - I actually knew the owner - that hosted more plants than I’d care to count. There was an ashtray and an abandoned pack of cigarettes. I greeted the faintly blooming sunrise surrounded by a cloud of smoke, shivering in the autumn mist.

Sounds of the party became less prominent with every passing minute as people geared up to go home and get a few winks of sleep before going to work. New Yorkers weren’t really thoughtful partying on a Tuesday, but then again, neither was I. The city always was busy - even then, at the crack of dawn, the dull throb of a bassline was rudely interrupted by a blaring car alarm followed by dogs barking in aggravation.

The more I sat there, the bleaker everything became. I had enough common sense to know I was just coming off the drug but for once, I had been happy and content for several hours without a care in the world. It had been too long since I felt that way and what’s a little low after a good high?

Mother left for her early conference at five AM sharp, I entered my house at five-thirty, making a beeline in the shower and immediately dumping my alcohol and cigarette soaked clothes into the wash with the smelliest detergent I could find. I gave similar treatment to my body and my hair, using the chemically-smelling products on my body and on my hair, brushing my teeth multiple times.

By the time I was leaving for school, only a faint smell lingered in the air where I’d previously entered, so I set the air freshener to automatically spray the obnoxious mist every ten minutes. Mother gets home at twelve for lunch, that should be more than enough time for any remnants of my partying to disappear into the lilac and lavender fumes.

The Valium I’d popped to deal with the aftermath of Molly made my brain sluggish. One look in the mirror and I hastily put my sunglasses on - the ashen colour of my face and the slightly crazed look wasn’t very complimentary to my complexion. The teacher didn’t give a damn. I stared blankly ahead of me for most part of first period.

“What happened to you? You look like hell!” Peter’s exclamation, while usually would’ve alarmed me, barely made a dent in my stupor.

“I feel like shit, too,” Admit what you can’t deny. Deny what you can’t admit. “I didn’t get any sleep. Like, at all.”

Peter frowned, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper with every passing second. I flinched when his hand tentatively touched my forehead - the pounding in my temples slowed to a dull throbbing but it was still unpleasant when someone was all up in my space.

“Jesus, you’re as cold as a corpse. Maybe you should go see the nurse,” His worry bled into me too. Like hell I was going to the school nurse! They were specifically trained to recognize the signs of substance abuse.

“I’ll head home straight after school, I think we’ll have to skip our sciencing,” No way also I’d be letting Tony and Bruce see me like this. Oh my God, I was a mess. “Mother’s home.” I added. Even the emotional frostbite I’d get from being around her was more tolerable than being a downer for Peter and Tony.

Peter’s face immediately softened in sympathy. He knew almost everything about my relationship with my family, including him actually seeing my mother that one time. He told me she gave him the creeps and I don’t blame him at all. The stoicism that was required for her work made my mother an unbearable person to exist around outside of her fancy office on the top floor of a glass high-rise building.

“Okay, but promise to text me if it gets worse. You might have caught the autumn bug that’s been going around,” He obviously said the last part to calm himself down. Sweet little Peter, naïve child. I solemnly nodded nonetheless.

When I got home, I went straight to bed. Tony was being Tony, as usual, but in a strangely kind way. I suppose it should’ve made me feel better and it kind of did, but then it went downhill from there. I couldn’t explain why I started crying. I bawled my eyes out at how unfair this god-damned world was and when the doorbell rang… Let’s say, the delivery boy hightailed it out of there once the bag of takeout was deposited into my arms. I looked and felt ghastly.

I ate as much as I could and dropped into a restless nap, drifting in and out of sleep with exhausted exasperation. There had not been a time where I felt so low after popping a pill and I was equal parts alarmed and satisfied. For one, the drug dealer didn’t lie like they usually do - the stuff was good and I still had the other pill hidden away in a bottle of painkillers, inconspicuously mixed with other white pills but shape distinctive enough for me to recognize should I have need in taking it again.

The thought of well, taking it again, was fleeting. I had school tomorrow and a missed science bender to make up for. A few buzzes of my phone later, I felt happier. Better. Not so down anymore. I meant every word that I said - Bruce was very precious, kind and gentle. And so, warm and soft. And totally kissable.

Well, fuck. What do I do now?

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #I've already got a room in Hell y'all welcome to book one nearby

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ovidialee · 3 years

Text

After the War Author Interview: @solasnarealtai

The second of our Four Horseman @solasnarealtai lets us into her writer brain to school us on why Snarcissa makes uncanny sense--in canon, no less, and why she wouldn’t survive life in the Wizarding World. And I can confirm that she adorably talks EXACTLY like this in real life:

1) Which came first for you - original work or fanfiction?

Definitely original, but I can’t say that any of the early stuff was any good. I was just a kid that liked to make up stories, whether I was really writing them down or thinking them in my head...but my mom says that I’ve been writing for about as long as she can remember. I discovered fanfic when I was in high school - I think it was my freshman year. One of my really good friends shared most of my classes and we sat near each other in all of them. I noticed her writing a lot one day and asked what she was working on. She asked if I’d heard of a particular manga (I cannot recall the name of it) and even though I hadn’t, she proceeded to explain to me that she was writing fanfiction of it. She was using her own characters, however, and essentially just had me make one up and let me start writing with her. You can say I was hooked after that!

2) I never pictured Snarcissa or really thought about it. You definitely opened my eyes to why it works so well. I’d love for you to share the drive behind these two characters -- and specifically why in a bookstore?

Why wouldn’t I?! Joking aside... There's just something about them that makes sense to me. I started shipping them after Half-Blood Prince came out and I read the Spinner’s End scene. Everything about that chapter was pushing me to this belief that there had been something between these two in the past, even if there wasn’t currently. Narcissa clearly knew the way to Snape’s house, for one, and I think we can all agree that he is not a man who would give just anyone access to his home. She also grabs at his robes, is so close to him that her tears are literally falling on his chest...and he lets her.

Snape and Narcissa are both very intelligent people and I don’t think I’m alone in finding smart people attractive; we’re just drawn together, almost like magnets.

The Unbreakable Vow has some wedding vow vibes to it, and I’ve seen arguments all over the internet citing it as evidence either for or against this ship. It is true, I think, that Snape is willing to do what he must for his role of spy, but...some lesser men wouldn’t have agreed to make that vow. This ties a bit into my headcanon of him as Draco’s godfather as well. He is doing what he can to help people he cares about.

It is very unrealistic that he - especially as a grown man - would go the rest of his life pining over a supposed failed romantic relationship from his childhood and then just abstain from any relationship. I have many feelings about the Potters, which I’ll mostly abstain from right now, but the way that I write my Snape in regards to Lily is that he loved her as his friend, and that love may have come across a bit stronger than it would from other people, but he didn’t exactly have many role models in his life to know the nuances of those emotions at the time. So, my Snape regrets a lot of things, but he’s going to keep living….and part of that includes his life between the sheets.

I know the other Horsemen have taken inspiration from your wonderfully crafted Death Eater Chronicles, no matter which characters they’re writing -- and it’s brilliant! But if I write Snape, I write my Snape, and that man loves books. I’m a bookseller myself, which is part of why I’ve got all these scenes going through my head, but...we’ve seen what his house looks like. Books are everywhere along the walls. It’s literally a bibliophile’s dream to have that! I don’t know that all of them - or even many of them - fantasize specifically about having some hot sex surrounded by books but...I’m just saying (again) that I find smart people very attractive. And my Snape finds it very satisfactory.

3) And we find your Snape supremely satisfying. You are, after all, the queen of the Snape Bookstore Smut AU. If you had to write the AU of your life, what would it be? And what tropes would you use?

I honestly don’t even know how to answer this question. I will say though, if somebody adapted it to a film, I’d probably insist that it have a soundtrack similar to Beauty and the Beast (fun fact, that’s one of my favorites) and....I could see my love of writing being there still, but I could also picture it completely gone. For the sake of humoring myself, we’ll say I keep it. I go to a fancy school and get a great book deal, but then...oops….I’m having trouble writing and need to get some inspiration, so I go off on a little trip to seclude myself, but a couple days in, I have a meet-cute with an adorably quirky person -- probably a guy but I’m open to ladies too. I’d probably need help with something or we’re both reaching for the last copy of some book. And then I need the only one bed trope to come into play somewhere. That is one of my favorites, because I’m ridiculously simple sometimes… I’ll agree that it is so overdone, but it’s a trope for a reason! And I’m a sucker for it!

If we’re saying AU as in, I get to go into the Potter universe instead of anything like our own, I’m definitely going to Hogwarts and not Ilvermorny. I have spent most of my life picturing myself in Scotland, and going shopping in Diagon Alley. I’m not changing that because we finally get some answers on magic in America. Plus, accents.

Anyway. Hmm… As much as I want to be Slytherin, my Puff roots run deep, so I’d still stick with getting my taste of Slytherin elsewhere. *wink wink* I feel like such a basic person for saying this, but I’d have wanted to be there while Snape was a professor, because he’s got the sort of knowledge about his subject I admire in a teacher and I love learning from people who really know their shit. This obviously means I’d have to be around for the second Wizarding War, but I’ll be really honest and I doubt I’d have made it out alive. So...maybe no tropes for me there.

It has emotions, it has yearning, it has...books and Snape and smut. READ Even the Night Bleeds

Stay tuned for our third Horseman’s fic…

#author interview #solasnarealtai #even the night bleeds #After the War: Death Eaters Never Die #four horsemen #harry potter fanfiction #writers on tumblr #snape x narcissa #stop reading the tags and go to the fic already

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sope-and-shine · 4 years

Text

The Right of a King: Pt. 2

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 18.7k -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, misogyny still exists, overuse of the word wench but not by Namjoon, brief mention of death, brief mention of illness, Jimin is STILL that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money and your boyfriends money - but will anyone complain? no. , kdrama ending - if you know you know, mild violence

a/n: Thank you @sakuraguks-main for checking this out before posting! You really came in clutch for this one

also i SWEAR NAMJOON WILL GET A HAPPY ENDING

Part 1 // Masterlist

Who would have thought that your life could turn up like this? You didn’t have any intention of ever falling for the man who literally scared the shit out of you when you first met him, but now you can’t help but blush when you think about him. The look of content he has when he views a new exhibit, the gentle smile he shares with you when you bring him food for the night. Some of his mannerisms are still very annoying, but he’s much more endearing than you initially gave him credit for.

He’s lightened up over the past few days as you’ve grown to know each other more. You’ve put in an effort to not patronize him, and he’s made a much greater effort to not to offend you with comments regarding your gender. Teaching him about misogyny was a night you won’t forget.

You spent half an hour just teaching him how your phone worked. Thankfully, he grasped the concept that it was much like the kiosks around the museum, only the smaller device did much more. You also threw in a quick explanation on the internet and it’s wonders, using that very interesting lesson to segway into your talk about women of power.

The woman on the screen throws another punch into the man’s jaw, cutting up and effectively knocking him back into the cage surrounding the ring. She advances on him and continues to throw punch after punch until a call is made and she steps back into her corner.

“Is he dead?” Namjoon asks, watching the man crumple to the ground through the tiny screen.

You chuckle at his assumption, “Not dead, but he’ll definitely feel all of those tomorrow when he wakes up.”

“She has excellent precision!” He praises, “I can’t believe the women of this era are so fierce.” He taps the screen to try to rewind the video like you showed him before, but he can’t seem to tap the screen just right. He huffs, “Infernal contraption…”

You laugh at him and he glares at you, “You think this is funny?”

“No! Not at all~” You say, all the while trying to hold your laughter back.

Namjoon is unimpressed with your amusement and pushes at your shoulder, “Don’t be so childish.”

He’d usually get annoyed with you when you’d laugh at his shortcomings and achievements. Every huff over the kiosk and every curious press of the button at the water fountain is met with a small giggle from you. You just can’t help it when his eyebrows furrow and a little pout appears on his face, and you’d found it harder to ignore his excited little dance when he did something new.

“Alright, I’ll stop.”

Despite annoying the king to no end, he did enjoy your lesson for him. He also learned that he enjoyed boxing and the political diplomats of the 21st century. For some reason, both seemed to go hand in hand for him, but you weren’t going to question his sudden enjoyments of your world. He was known to read and write in his free time before his death - not to mention the battles he faced when the situation arose. Introducing him to women proving their strengths in both probably ignited a fire that he hadn’t been able to experience since before his death.

As a way to help him, you decide to bring him a notebook and some felt tip pens. It wouldn’t be like anything he was used to, but it would give him an outlet for himself. Sure he had you to talk to, but you weren’t exactly ideal. With a pen and paper, he’d be able to write out his own thoughts and feelings for himself. He wouldn’t have to worry about holding it all in or hoping you’ll understand how he feels.

Handing them to him is a nerve wracking experience itself. This wasn’t just walking around the museum to look at the exhibits as an act of kindness, this was a gift. He didn’t ask for it, and you were so nervous that he wouldn’t even like color.

“What are these?” he asks, taking the bag from your hand. He opens the top and looks inside, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I stopped by the store on my way here.” You grab the top of the bag and pull it towards you, letting him hold it open so you can pull out the materials inside. You show him the light blue cover of the notebook and flip it open to showcase the pages, “It’s a notebook so you can write down your thoughts when you don’t want to say them to me.”

“I see.” He nods in understanding. He looks into the bag and reaches in to pull out the felt tipped pen you’d bought just for him. He looks even more confused than he had before, holding the plastic container between his fingers. “This is what you’re using to write with now?”

“It’s called a pen.” You set the notebook back in the bag and take the pen from him, pulling the cap off so he can see the tip. You draw a line on the back of your hand before showing him the mark you made, “They put all the ink inside one part so you can write with this part. The cap is so your ink doesn’t dry or bleed out.”

You hand him the open pen and let him try, allowing him to draw on your hand so he can try it himself. Seeing the black line appear in one clean stroke by his own hand, he becomes mesmerized, “Genius.”

“At the end of the night, you can tuck them away by your feet so you can keep them close. Just make sure the pen clicks when you put the cap on.” You explain. You hand him the cap to the pen and watch him carefully put it back in place, laughing when he flinches at the clicking sound. “Did that scare you?”

“It most certainly did not! It was just too loud!” He argues, attempting to defend his pride.

“Oh, no! The great King Kim Namjoon is afraid of a teeny tiny pen!” You tease, laughing at his expense.

“I am not scared of the pen!” He whines, unamused by your teasing. You continue to poke fun at him, even as he protests against you.

CRASH

A loud, metallic clanging interrupts your small dispute. Before you can even turn your head to see what it could have been, Namjoon grabs your arm to pull you into his embrace. He has your face pressed against his firm chest, a hand cradling the back of your head to hold you close. You can feel his muscular arms through the thin fabric of his shirt pressing against your back to keep you in place and protected from whatever danger may be lurking in the hall.

“What is that?” He asks, more to himself than for you.

“-Ah owno!” You mumble against his chest, unable to properly pronounce your words. You push against his chest and tap his sides until he finally lets you move back far enough for you to try again, “I don’t know.”

Namjoon pulls you over to a display case - the one that runs parallel to the kiosk wall - and presses your back against the wood. He looks around the case before he turns back to you with the most concern you’ve seen on him since you’ve met. “Stay here.”

“No.” You try to push him off, but Namjoon’s grip is firm.

He levels his face with yours, “(Y/n), I’m not letting you put yourself into potential danger!”

“Namjoon, that’s my job!” You remind him, “If someone is out there, then I need to report it! Let me go.”

You try your best to push against him, not wanting to use excessive force if you really don’t have to. Only Namjoon still refuses to budge, “No. You can’t protect yourself properly, I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh, I can’t protect myself?” You ask. In all fairness, he’d never seen you in action besides when you first met, and you could only manage to scream and back away from him at the time. Now, you were in a real situation that required your immediate attention, and he was mocking you for not being strong enough!

“No, you ca-Ah!” Instead of allowing him to continue, you kick your right leg out and wrap it behind his, pulling it towards you as you push against his shoulders at the same time. He falls to the floor with a thud.

“Now, how about you stay here and I’ll go check out what’s going on?” You suggest, leaning over him as he holds the back of his head.

He tries to sit up and falls back down with a grunt, “Yeah...that sounds like a good idea.”

You leave Namjoon lying on the wooden planks and go to investigate the sound. You pull your flashlight from your belt loop and peek around the entryway. The hall itself is completely empty, no signs of anyone having been in the hall. Making small, quiet steps to the next exhibit, you see that it’s gate is still intact and locked just as you had left it.

A hand places itself on your shoulder and you don’t hesitate to kick behind you. You turn over your left shoulder to hit your assailant in the neck, but you quickly stop when you see it’s only Namjoon who’s bent over himself behind you.

“Namjoon!” You rush forward to comfort him, holding his arm with one hand and rubbing his back. “I am so sorry.”

He applies pressure to his shin where a patch of dirt is left from your shoe. He looks up, “You are surprisingly good at that.”

You bend down, leaning over yourself to look at Namjoon on his level, “Yeah, self defense classes come in handy for everyday criminals. They don’t really teach you what to do when an ancient mummy breaks free from his coffin.”

“Sarcophagus.” He corrects.

You scoff, “Is there really a difference?”

“Ow...”

You and Namjoon exchange a worried glance, unsure of what to think. The hall was empty and the exhibit was still locked, so whoever spoke had to have been hiding within the exhibit and you’d missed them during your sweep. They wouldn’t be the first to try, but they would be the first success. You’ll be lucky if Hoseok and Yoongi don’t fire you on the spot when they get here.

You move to the gate, “Alright, you’ve had your fun-”

You stop.

Looking at the exhibit from the doorway, you don’t see anyone at all. No human being stands anywhere within the exhibit. However, the artifacts that line the room are more than just the usual ‘eye catching’ that patrons would describe them as.

They’re alive.

It’s truly a scene from a movie, watching the paintings on the wall move in ripples as their paint begins to stretch with every push against their canvas’. Statues along the rooms edges move with ear-piercing screeches and subtle creaks, their bodies slowly moving of their own volition. In the next room over, the statues move as well. Extraordinary and familiar, you can’t help but to stare in awe at the scene before you.

Namjoon shares the same sentiments, only he’s even more amazed, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” He asks. His jaw is slack and brown eyes as wide as a curious child. Between the both of you, he should be the one that’s used to the scene.

You can’t help but nudge him, “Now you know how I felt.”

He shakes his head, still enraptured in wonder, “It’s amazing~”

“Yeah…” You look over the room, watching the pieces that can move freely begin to roam. Each one is different as they allow their curiosity to take over. They remind you of Namjoon the second night he had been awake; each confused yet determined to learn more about their surroundings.

In the second room over - the one that connects to the exhibit - you find only a few of the artifacts have also come to life. It’s strange, but you don’t question the magic of the supposed moon goddess. Instead, you and Namjoon enjoy the new company given to you through the night, and you ensure they return to their rightful places at the end of the night.

* * *

“He told those children that I rode tigers around my palace in my freetime! I did no such thing!” Namjoon rages, arms flailing about. With each angry word, his arms move back and forth as if they’re constructing an invisible masterpiece, “I protected and rehabilitated it! I imprisoned many a man that sought those beautiful creatures for such purposes, and I will not accept such ridiculous claims against me!”

Neither you, nor Namjoon had gone to the exhibit next door. He’d been on a tangent about Jeongguk’s inaccuracies since you met him at his gate and he pulled you in. Apparently, he’d woken up during the day, unable to remain asleep. He’d spent quite a bit just thinking in the dark while casually listening to the conversations that happened beyond his resting place. He’d heard a couple argue, two friends making fun of his portrait, and even an elderly woman paying her respects to him. But no conversation he heard was as important to him as Jeongguk’s ‘outrageous’ claims to a group of random school children.

“It’s like he thinks I am a joke! Am I a joke?” He turns to you with such a heated glare, you almost feel bad when your face breaks into a smile. Namjoon seems to pick up on your thoughts when he sees this and his frown forms into a thin line, “Nevermind, I don’t wish to hear your opinion anymore.”

“You shouldn’t take it to heart. Jeongguk isn’t the most educated person among the museum staff.” You say, attempting to reassure him. However, it only seems to anger him more.

“Why not? He works in one of the most wonderful places in the world, and he chooses to ignore the precious history around him?!” He spits, resembling the same king you had first met. His hardened gaze was nothing but cold and spiteful, “How selfish can he be to not take advantage of such a wonderful opportunity?”

“Woah, chill out. Jeongguk isn’t the brightest tool in the shed, but he’s one of the most hardworking!” You defend. You knew better than anyone that Jeongguk was not the best candidate for the job, but he was always looking to improve. Above everything, he always put his everything into studying the exhibits - even if it wasn’t spot on, “Sure, the information may not stick or he may not remember it exactly as it is, but he’s a nice kid.”

“I just don’t see why he’s perfectly fine with learning it wrong.” Namjoon takes a moment to think, really thinking about what you said before he continues, “If I were him, then I would do everything I possibly could to learn about these exhibits and that my information is accurate.”

Your expression softens and Namjoon sighs, “I just want to know more about this world. If I am to be stuck in this era, then I want to experience it all for myself! I want to know what I’ve missed.”

What do you say to him? A simple ‘I’m sorry’ will only go so far. There’s only so much you can do for him in his current situation. If you could let him leave then you would, but he has no papers, no family, and no experience. He’d be forced to leave without question if someone found him as he is now, but you can’t decide if that would be worse than keeping him locked away in the museum for the rest of his life. If you were forced to, you’d go crazy. To think about being stuck in his position…?

“Namjoon-!” You try to speak up, but his hand raises to stop you.

“It’s alright. I know you can’t do anything to help me.” His smile is bittersweet as he shows it to you, his dimples nowhere near his cheeks. He clears his throat and stands, “I think I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight. I’d like to be alone.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting him to be alone.

“I’m sure.” He nods his head and hands you his empty food box, “I’ll see you tomorrow as usual.”

You allow him to walk away from you, disappearing to the back of his exhibit with a certain stiffness. It’s like he’s reverted into the shell of the king he was that first night, only this one is choosing to hide from you this time. Even when you leave and wish him goodnight, he doesn’t say it back. He isolates himself, and you’re disappointed to find he’s still by himself when you come back at the end of the night.

Even after the other exhibit is double checked and the morning shift arrives to clock in, you’re still thinking about Namjoon. Especially when Jeongguk arrives with his morning coffee order. It was hard to not think about what he had said and the experiences he was missing out on. There was so much he could be doing, but instead he was locked away like a caged animal.

You mull over these thoughts as you replace your security jacket with your outside coat. They weigh heavy on your mind even as the break room begins to fill with the morning shift. You’re so distracted, you almost miss Hoseok greeting you.

“(Y/n)! Have a good night?” He asks, unaware of your own personal conflict.

You nod in return, “Yeah! It was as eventful as usual.”

“I bet the air conditioner kicking on really gave you a run for your money.” Taeyang jokes, reminding you of your first shift on the job when he had helped to train you.

“Oh, doesn’t it always.” You reply, a light roll of your eyes expressing your amusement. You set your flashlight on the top shelf and close your locker. Turning back to the table where your things lie, you look at Hoseok, “Did you find anyone for the night shift?”

“No, not yet.” He says. Only this time, it’s almost a relief to know you get to keep Namjoon to yourself for just a bit longer.

You nod and grab your bag off the table, “Okay, just keep me in the loop.”

“Actually-!” Hoseok stops you before you get too far, “You’ve been working a lot of hours and I really appreciate your hard work. Why don’t you take the weekend off and I’ll cover your shift.”

“Oh!” You contemplate his offer for only a moment, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He asks, his head tilting to the side.

You know he means well, but all you can think about is Namjoon waiting for you to show up and being greeted with Hoseok instead. You don’t even bother to think about the exhibit next to his that’s also come to life. If Hoseok finds Namjoon, then he’ll call the police and then you’ll never see him again.

You smile, trying to mask your nerves, “I mean, are you sure? That’s two whole nights-”

“-Three!” He interrupts, “You deserve a break and I’m not taking no for an answer. Go out to a club or something. Stay home and watch a drama. Do something other than sit in the office and have fun.”

You honestly haven’t thought about doing anything fun since you’ve started to appreciate Namjoon’s presence more. If anything, you’d rather spend the nights at the museum with Namjoon rather than at home alone.

That’s when the idea hits you.

If you take Friday off, then you can sneak Namjoon out Friday morning. You can take him home with you and show him what the outside world is really like, rather than him watching from a window. You could take him to try street food, the Han River, the sea. There’s so much that you could show him, but you only have so much time to do so.

You agree to Hoseok’s offer and wave goodbye, for once walking out of the museum with some pep in your own steps. Later that night when you return, you’ve added a tape measure to your bag of things. Namjoon is more than confused when you accost him before giving him his food for the night.

“Am I having something tailored?” He asks, his body tense as you place the measuring tape against his shoulder.

“No, but I am buying you clothes.” You say, looking at the measurement you got so you can record it as well.

“What for?” He asks.

You look away from your phone for only a moment, meeting his eyes before you turn back to your screen, “Do you want to see more of today’s world, or do you want to stay in this museum?”

“You’re taking me out?” You can practically see the excitement in his features without even looking at him. It makes you happy to know he’s happy, but at the same time, you know it might mean more to both of you than you’re willing to admit.

“Just for the weekend.” You tell him. You take his food out of the bag you brought and hand it over, “This is just a friendly gesture, so don’t think anything of it.”

“I won’t. Promise.�� His smile is taught, and you know he’s disappointed more than anything to hear the words leave your mouth. But at least you’ll be able to make him smile in less than 48 hours.

“Good.” You grab your own food and take the initiative to sit down first, “I’ll figure the rest out later, but I need to make sure I can convince the other exhibit not to move for the next 3 nights tonight.”

“I’ll help you!” He insists.

That night when the both of you finish eating, Namjoon assists you in talking to the other exhibit. He uses the moment to work on his social skills once again, pretending that he’s speaking to other humans of the modern age. It’s both amusing and heartwarming to watch him, the bright smile he offers to every living artifact that he speaks to. Even more so, they each treat him with so much respect and kindness. To them, he is a king, and they have no problem treating him as such.

Even after you’ve talked to everyone and you’ve closed the exhibit for the night, you spend your night walking the museum halls with Namjoon. You let him practice with modern slang sheets you found on the internet while you order clothes to pick up for him, stifling your laughter when he uses words you’d never heard anyone his age use. It’s endearing to listen to him practice, and it excites you to know you’ll get to show him his first real glimpse of the world so foreign to him.

It’s all you can think about on your way home, before you go to sleep, and when you wake up in the afternoon. Waiting in line to pick up his clothes, you can only think about Namjoon waiting in line. You think about the mistakes he might make and the blush on his cheeks when he realizes he made a mistake. Walking along the sidewalk, you think about Namjoon seeing a car up close for the first time. Would he be scared? Would he try to break into one?

You’ll be keeping a very close eye on him around cars.

Your coworkers give you curious stares as you walk in with more bags than usual, but none press you about what you’re doing with them. Everything is moving seamlessly, and even Taehyung gives you an easy time kicking him out of the museum. You thought Namjoon would give you a hard time as well, but you’re pleasantly surprised when the man giddily takes the bags from you.

You leave him to put on the first outfit you picked for him, leaving his exhibit open to come find you when he’s done. The whole night that you spend finishing your paperwork and your rounds for the night, reminding the other exhibit that they have to be still for the next few days. When you finally catch up to Namjoon again, you’re almost speechless to see him in casual clothing. If you’d known a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and a simple green jacket would look so good, you would have bought them for him the second day you’d known him.

“Do I look okay?” He asks, unsure of himself in the new style of clothes.

“Perfect! Now, follow me.” You both leave his exhibit, you locking the gate before leading him down the stairs. You take him all the way to the lower level storage space where new exhibit pieces are loaded from the large dock doors. You find the right key for the padlock and open one side just enough for the both of you to look through. “You wait out here on that bench right over there. Don’t leave that bench.”

“Why not?” He asks.

You shrug, “Because I said so.”

“I am a king!” He reminds you, puffing his chest more than necessary.

You shake your head, “And I'm the queen of I don’t give 2 shits. Go park yourself on that bench and stay there or I’ll end you myself.” You push him out the door and wave him off, Namjoon stumbling to catch his balance.

“Well, you don’t have to be so violent.” He grumbles, dusting himself off, “I will not remove myself from the bench until you allow me to do so, queen of not giving 2 shits.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, paying his scowl no mind. You close the door, but you open it once more before he gets too far, “I’ll be out soon.”

You lock the dock doors back up and rush yourself upstairs, double checking the exhibit to make sure everything is in place and there’s no trash left about. You return to security and clean up your own belongings, waiting only 15 minutes before your morning shift comes to liberate you. Packing up and clocking out is a breeze, sparing only a moment to say goodbye to those who greet you. All of your focus is on returning to Namjoon before he decides to wander off.

Going through the employee entrance, you walk along the side of the building to get to the back. It only takes you a minute along the sidewalk before you make it to the bench where the king sits in his new clothes. He sits with his usual pristine posture, watching the cars and people pass in front of him. He reminds you of a child - a very overgrown child - watching the world around him for the first time. It’s almost as if for the first time he’s seeing everything in color, and every sight is one to cherish.

“Enjoying the view?” You ask, catching him off guard.

He jumps at first, but his shoulders relax when he realizes it’s just you. He nods, “Yeah. It’s different in the light.”

“Things usually are.” You agree. You let him rake his eyes over the city, allowing him to experience the early morning beauty for just a few moments longer. He looks so at peace with the world seeing a true sunrise for the first time since he last walked the Earth. His lungs taking in large breaths of fresh air instead of the cold museum air that he’s grown accustomed to. Pair it with his new clothing, he looks as though he’s spent his whole life in the 21st century with you.

When you feel a yawn crawling up on you is when you decide it’s time to leave, “Let’s go back to my place to get some sleep and then I can show you everything you’ve been missing.”

You can tell he’s reluctant to go, his entire body tensing as his hand unintentionally grips the bench as if it would ground him there for just 5 minutes more. But instead of voicing his desire to stay, he nods and stands to join you, “I would be honored to be shown to your apartment.”

—-

It’s just past 1:30 in the afternoon when you wake up, the soft melody of your alarm ringing in the small confines of your loft. The rays of sun coming from your apartment windows hits the decor of your loft just right, bouncing off of your mirror and sending a sliver of light to cover your eyes. You’re more than tempted to hit snooze and turn yourself over to catch just a few more precious hours of sleep, but the lingering thoughts of showing Namjoon what your world has to offer him are much more desirable.

You pull yourself out of bed and stumble into your house slippers, your left foot missing the sock you’d fallen asleep with. You allow yourself to stretch your arms above your head before you walk downstairs, finding the King exactly where you had left him on your couch. Though, instead of sitting as stiff as a board, he’s folded over the arm of your couch with one arm clutching the blue koala throw pillow you’d bought online - You can only imagine how long he sat on your couch holding the same posture before he finally passed out.

You decide to let him continue resting and get yourself ready for the rest of your day. You take a quick shower, doing your face routine in between the shampooing, the conditioning, and the scrubbing. You dry most of your hair with a towel before leaving it to air dry while you throw on some jeans and a sweater and some light makeup to enhance your features. When that’s done, you head back to the living room to wake up the peaceful king.

“Namjoon-” You shake his shoulder gently, not wanting to startle him. You nudge his shoulder and call his name a few times before his eyes flutter open and close, “Namjoon, we have a lot to do in very little time! You have to get up so we can get some food!”

“Have the food brought to my room, Jihye…” Namjoon mumbles, his face contorting as his eyes squeeze shut and his arms pull the pillow closer to him.

You giggle at the way his nose scrunches, “I’m not Jihye, your majesty. You’re not in your time period anymore, remember?”

The king’s eyes open and you’re met with tired brown eyes. For a moment, there’s an air of sadness as he takes in your appearance, but it leaves as quickly as it appears. He sits up quick and stretches his arms above his head, his white t-shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin.

You turn away from him, feeling the embarrassment climb to your ears as you walk towards the door, “You should put your jacket back on so we can go and eat.”

“Yes! I’m starving,” He says. He follows you to the front door where both of your shoes sit, sliding on the laceless shoes you’d bought for him.

You put on your own before you grab your jackets out of the closet, “Here.” You hand him his and unbunch yours to slip it on.

“Let me!” Namjoon drops his own jacket in favor of yours, straightening the article of clothing for you to put on.

You only stare at him in awe, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to,” he explains, his dimpled smile gracing his cheeks. You let him hold the jacket for you, allowing him to help guide your arms into the sleeves. The whole time you’re trying to hold your breath, as if even one hitch or loud exhale would give away your thoughts or feelings. His hands smooth the shoulders of your coat down before they're gone and he’s picking up his own jacket, “Good?”

“Yeah! Good.”

It’s only a small walk to the cafe a block from your apartment. Upon arrival, you try your best to figure out what drink would best suit Namjoon’s tastes. He didn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth, but he didn’t enjoy the bitter drinks you’d brought him either. You eventually settle on ordering him an americano and letting him choose a sandwich to eat. Neither of you talk much as you eat together, you instead let Namjoon enjoy the new atmosphere and the view from the window as he eats. It’s when he bumps his plate off the table and sends it splattering against the concrete floor that you decide it’s best to leave for the aquarium ahead of schedule.

You pull him to the bus stop as the bus rolls to a stop, only waiting in the line for a moment before you file onto the bus behind everyone else. As you turn your phone to scan the bus pass on the back of your case, you feel a tug on your other hand.

“(Y/n)!” Namjoon whispers harshly.

“What?” You ask, nervously eyeing the bus driver as you scan the pass again.

“Is this safe?” He asks.

“Namjoon-” You laugh. Of course he would think it isn’t safe. Hell, on the right day you don’t either! You pull him down the aisle to find a seat at the back of the bus to sit down before you answer his question, “Of course this is safe. I know it’s loud and it shakes, but I wouldn’t put you in any unnecessary danger.”

“You’re right,” He sighs. He squeezes your hand, his deep brown eyes meeting your own, “I trust you.”

The words alone are enough to make your stomach twist into knots. You feel warm and tingly and you quickly find something outside of the bus to catch his attention instead, “Look-” You point in front of his face, finding an intricate statue in front of a building approaching, “-isn’t that cool!?”

He turns to admire the sculpture and you take in a much needed breath. Keeping him distanced from you was going to be an issue. Even if you do fall for him and you never take him back to the museum, how would you explain where he’s from? How would he get a job? How would he be able to do anything other than live in your home if he wasn’t a real person anymore?

“Where are we going?” Namjoon asks, pulling you from your inner turmoil.

You can’t help but smile, knowing that this will be one of the best surprises for the King since you’d brought him his journal, “I’m going to take you to see something you’ve never seen before.”

After quite a few stops and many questions from Namjoon, you finally get off of the bus in front of the tall blue building. Over the doors reads ‘Seoul Aquarium’ in colorful lettering, standing out against the plain white of the sign.

“Aquarium?” Namjoon reads, his head tilted in confusion. He turns to you with his skeptical gaze, “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll show you?” You offer, squeezing his hand that’s still connected to your own.

The both of you enter the building and you’re immediately surrounded by a dim atmosphere highlighted by waves of light that glisten off the floor and the walls. The white walls of the interior are decorated by multiple pictures and colorful murals. The ceiling - high and vaulted - holds a large models of different fish suspended, the portion closest to the ground protected by a small fence in the center of the room. Multiple exhibits lay beyond, but a quick trip through the ticket line holds you back.

You guide Namjoon through the roped off line to get your tickets, but his attention doesn’t leave the main room the entire time. His eyes dance over every detail of the room while you wait in line and as you speak to the teller in the booth for your tickets. Even as you lead him into the room itself, his eyes are still trying to catch every last square inch. With the king thoroughly distracted, you take the chance to look at the aquarium’s layout to see which way you should go first.

There were of course the sharks and the dolphins, they would definitely surprise the king to see ‘a beast’ so large. Then again, there were the jellyfish and the underwater walkways as well, mesmerizing and unthinkable for him as a man of another century. But the intractable exhibits would be so much more exciting for him to experience, being able to really touch sea animals you wouldn’t normally be able to. It’s all so wonderful to think about, but where to start is going to really set the stage for him.

And you know just what will make him happiest.

“Namjoon-” He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours, fleeting to the side to see one more piece of art for just a moment before they’re on yours again. You giggle, “-are you ready to see the first exhibit?” He nods and you lead the way to your first stop.

On the right side of the building is another line of people, all waiting patiently to enter past a rubber curtain maintained by an employee standing behind a podium. As you wait, Namjoon begins to bounce, becoming restless until he can’t stop himself from asking, “Is this another museum?”

“It is!” You nod, “Only the exhibits here are supposed to be alive.” Namjoon’s cheeks darken and you can’t stop the endeared smile that adorns your own features, “I think you’ll really like this, Namjoon.”

When it’s finally your turn to walk through the rubber curtain, you enter a narrow hallway encase in darkness - save for the glow in the dark tape on the floor. You have to pass through another curtain made of rubber before you finally enter the glass encased tunnel that barricades the both of you from the water that rests above you. It’s dimly lit just like the rest of the building, but the most striking difference isn’t the atmosphere.

It’s the various schools and pairs of fish that swim carelessly around the glass.

Namjoon is in awe just watching the vibrantly colored fish go over him, seeing all kinds of fish of different shapes and sizes only mere inches from his face. He reaches his hand for the glass and pulls back upon feeling it’s cool touch, not expecting it to be so cool.

“How is this possible…?” He asks, his tanned skin lit by the soft blue hues that shine through the glass.

You shrug, “I’m not really sure how they do it myself, but it’s amazing, right?”

Namjoon turns to you, a look of pure wonder and amazement painted on his face, “It’s gorgeous.”

---

It took you almost an hour just to pull him away from the tunnels, but you managed to drag him past the seahorses, the sharks, and the dolphins. Each creature was just as fascinating for him as the other, and every laugh and smile he made had your stomach doing flips. He makes it so hard to only see him as a friend when he’s just so incredibly adorable every time he sees something new.

Now, as you exit the small projector room playing the same squid documentary over and over again, you lead him to the interactive exhibit. Just from outside the exhibit’s entrance you can see the dozens of tanks that stand in the room with an employee at each one. Only a few families and couples are in the room, making it the perfect environment for Namjoon to explore something new.

“What’s in here?” Namjoon asks as you approach the new room.

“In here are the exhibits you can touch and interact with. Do you want to see?” You ask.

He nods and takes the first step himself, deciding to take the lead as a way to show you he’ll be fine. You follow him into the chaos, making your way over to a box about as tall as your knee where Namjoon stands peering over the side. Inside the box looks to be a mountain of sand with rocks and grass at the bottom and various logs and sticks piled up to be climbed on by whatever creatures call the box their home.

You stop by his side and he turns to you, “Can we start here?” He asks.

“Of course!” You nod, gesturing for him to look at what else is inside.

It takes a minute for the tanks contents to register with you, and then you see the movement in the sand. Little bubbles that move before a hole - much like a dozen others that decorate the sand - is formed that reveals the small, white and yellow crabs.

Upon seeing the tiny creature poke it’s head out, Namjoon’s eyes immediately light up like a child receiving a gift. He reaches his hands out to touch the crab in front of him, but he quickly pulls them back to himself. Turning to you he ask, “Am I allowed to touch them?”

“You don’t need to ask me, Namjoon. This is a touch tank, so you can touch anything in each of these tanks.” You explain.

Just like that, the childlike wonder of the King is back and he’s reaching down to hold the small crab in the palm of his hand. The sight is so endearing. To see him hold the life in the palm of his hand with the utmost care and adoration sends your heart soaring. It makes you wonder if you can really keep a line between being his friend and wanting more.

It’s Saturday, the day after your aquarium escapade. You’d had so much fun just being able to watch Namjoon enjoy something he’d never seen before, and he practically begged you to buy him a book about sea life from the gift shop before you left - a sight you didn’t think you’d see from the King.

He spent his whole night in between trying different foods just reading through all the discoveries humans had made since his time, and at one point he even tried to use your computer to do his own research. His thirst for knowledge of his new surroundings seemed unquenchable, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to learn anything else in hopes that you’ll be able to watch his constant excitement for something new.

Now, as you both sit in another cafe enjoying your lunch, Namjoon seems to have come down from his information kick. He sits across from you eating his sandwich in a content silence as he people-watches from his chair.

You focus on finishing your own sandwich, enjoying the sustenance as you imagine how your trip to the shopping district will go. You can’t help but imagine Namjoon trying some of the newer fashion trends, or see how good he’ll look in a hat. Or maybe he’ll hate shopping and you can take him to experience karaoke for the first time. He won’t know the songs, but it might still be fun.

“-(Y/n)!” Namjoon says harshly, breaking you out of your trance. You turn to him, a piece of bread poking out of your mouth. Namjoon stifles a chuckle and it takes you a moment to realize why he’s laughing at you.

Quickly you cover your mouth as you finish chewing, your eyes trained on your drink rather than your companion. Once it’s all gone, you turn back to the man in front of you, him sitting with his elbows rested on the table and his face resting on his hands as he watches you. You take a quick sip of your drink before you decide to acknowledge him, “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “I was just wondering about something.”

“Like what?” You ask.

“You.”

“Me?” You look to him for reassurance that you heard him correctly and he nods. “Why would you want to know about me?”

“Well, you know a lot about me, and most of that is thanks to your technologies of this time period, but-...” He hesitates, playing with his thumbs, “You don’t talk about yourself.”

“There really isn’t much to say. I’ve had a fairly normal life, I’ve had regular experiences, I have regular friends…” When you think about your life compared to what his must have been like, you can’t help but feel insecure about yours. He’s lived a far more fulfilling life than you, and it’s not easy to expose just how dull yours is. “I just don’t think there’s much of my life that would compare to yours.”

“And why is that?”

You spare him a glance, totally unamused by his obliviousness - playful or not, “I don’t know if you noticed, but my apartment is the size of your stables.”

He shrugs, “So what? Your life is so much different from mine! It’s absolutely fascinating to me.” You can only guess what he would find so fascinating about your life when he compares it to yours, but the way he looks at you makes you want to lay it all out on the table for him, “Can’t I know something?”

So you indulge him, telling him stories of your childhood as best as you can remember. The time that your Dad was helping you bake cookies and you set the oven on fire, the day that the family dog got out and sent the neighbor flying, that one time your brother got drunk with his friends an you had to sneak him into the house without your parents knowing - something they still don’t know about. Any weird, funny memory that you could recall, you shared with him, and each one made him laugh and smile and it only encouraged you to share more.

“Wait wait wait-” He says, stopping you in the middle of your story and his own laughter, “So he really said that?”

“Yeah! I swear I thought our professor was going to end him!” You say, recalling the memory of your college friend who told the professor if his manhood wasn’t the size of a pea then maybe he’d be a much happier man.

“Brilliant!” He hits the table with the palm of his hand, “My friends that I had when I lived weren’t as quick witted as yours.”

“No?” You probe.

“They used their swords instead of words,” he explains. He contemplates for a moment before he continues, “Though, their swords did get them far for my time.”

“I can imagine.” You laugh, taking another sip of your almost empty drink.

“Have you felt love before?” Namjoon asks, changing the topic just like that.

“Love?” You choke, your hand pressing against your mouth to stop anymore of your drink from spilling onto your shirt.

“Yeah. Have you had any love interests?” He inquires, turning his full attention back to you.

“Once. When I was in middle school.” You shrug, feeling the intense heat of his state, “It only lasted for a few years, nothing too long.” You hadn’t thought about that relationship for a while. You really hadn’t thought about anyone at all except for him, “He just wasn’t the right one.”

His eyes practically sparkle when you mention your past love not being the one. He smiles, “You believe in finding the right one?”

“I believe in finding someone that blends well with you.” You explain carefully, knowing exactly where he’s going with this.

“But no soulmates?” He asks.

You can tell he’s saying it in more of a joking way to mask the truth behind his actions. You know he wants you to believe he’s your soulmate and you’re meant to be together, but you just can’t go through with it yet.

You clear your throat and stand up, “We should get going. The movie will start without us if we don’t.”

“Right.” He agrees, standing up after you.

Though, you know neither of you are really finished with the conversation.

It’s much later in your apartment that you think about the conversation again. You’re working on some of your online work while Namjoon watches some movies much like the one you had shown him. It never occurred to you that he might enjoy superhero movies all that much, but seeing him cheer on Spiderman through the screen like the actor could hear him puts a smile on your face.

The other patrons at the theater did not enjoy his enthusiasm as much as you.

Then again, they didn’t know him. They didn’t get to see his dimples pop out when he saw Thor appear on screen. They didn’t get to see him parade around your apartment in the Ryan pajamas you bought him with his fourth bowl of popcorn. They didn’t get to hear him recall stories of what it was really like to live in a time where none of this existed. They didn’t get to appreciate him.

But at the same time you realize, you haven’t appreciated him either.

It’s been almost a month since he first woke and claimed you to be his soulmate. In that time, you’ve done your best to understand him and let him roam, but you’ve only been pushing him away. Keeping him at arm's length in hopes of not catching feelings.

Yet...you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to give into the temptation of accepting your role as his soulmate.

—-

“We don’t need to get on the bus today?” Namjoon asks, the last of his breakfast in his mouth.

You shake your head, “Not today. I have something planned that I think you’re going to really enjoy.”

“Is it more food?” You turn to him with a look that is usually saved for Jimin or Taehyung and he just shrugs, “What?”

You sigh, “We can get food there, but we’re not going there for the food. You’ll see.”

You loop your arm through his and continue on down the large sidewalk, enjoying the fresh morning air as you walk your regular path. It’s when Namjoon sees the flower beds that he realizes where you’re taking him and he stops.

“You’re bringing me back to the museum?” He asks, a look of disbelief written across his features.

Sensing why he’s upset you’re quick to shake your head to dissuade the thought, “Not just yet! We still have tonight and tomorrow before you need to go back. I just want to show you what you miss during the day.” Letting go of his arm and instead your hand to him, you smile in hopes it will make him feel more comfortable, “Follow me?”

You lead him up the large staircase, pausing at the top to show him the view and take a few pictures before you go inside. A line like there had been at the aquarium is off just to the side, but you drag Namjoon in the opposite direction.

“Don’t we need to follow them?” He asks

“Employee perk.” You vaguely explain, more interested in getting him into the museum and letting him meet your friends, “Come over this way! I want to talk to someone real quick.”

Jin catches sight of you before you get the chance to even call out to him. He waves to his departing guests and turns to wave to you, “(Y/n)! I thought you had the day off, what are you doing here?”

“I’m showing my friend around the museum, he’s never been here before,” You explain, not missing the way Jin looks Namjoon up and down in his light jeans, black turtleneck, and brown jacket you’d picked up for him. Thankfully, he seems to approve of Namjoon and the clothes you’d picked for him, “Jin, this is Kim Namjoon. Namjoon, this is Kim Seokjin.”

Namjoon gives a curt bow, “Very cool to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Jin chuckles. He doesn't seem to mind Namjoon’s vernacular as he continues to tease him, “So, Kim Namjoon? Any relation to the King in our 3rd floor exhibit?”

“No, my mother was a history stan.” The king explains.

You share a look with Jin that screams “don’t you dare say anything” and he nods with a fake smile, “How fascinating.”

“Well-!” Deciding that now is as good a time as any to get him out of there, you squeeze Namjoon's hand with one and wave to Jin with the other, “We should let you get back to work, but it was nice seeing you Jin.”

“You too!” Jin waves back with his familiar, bright smile. Though it fades into a mischievous one just as fast, “Don’t cause too much trouble with your boyfriend~”

You don’t comment on his words, knowing that Namjoon probably wouldn’t get the insinuation behind his words anyway. You just drag him along to the stairs to bring him to the first exhibit you’ll be visiting.

When Namjoon sees the familiar entrance cone into focus, he gasps in excitement, “This is the European exhibit! I’ve been waiting to go through here.”

“Well, today is your lucky day.” You say. You pull him into the exhibit's entrance and notice the empty kiosk to the right of traffic, “C’mon there’s a kiosk over here.”

You go to grab headphones for yourself, but Namjoon is faster than you, “Here-” He takes them out of your hand and places them over your ears for you, a tender smile on his dimpled face as he repeats the action you’d done for him the other night. “There you go.”

He puts his own headphones on and presses play on the video, but you don’t listen. You don’t let the words process. All you can think about is the soft smile that he shared with you and the gentle touch of his hands against your head.

---

You can’t deny that the museum is much more appealing during the day. With all the patrons that walk around enjoying the exhibits, the quiet chatter is low and welcomed to your ears. More importantly, the ability to watch Namjoon enjoy the presence of humans is a gift itself. He’s really come out of his shell over the past few days. He’s enjoyed getting to know people again, and being able to practice his use of modern slang - no matter how horrendous it is.

Only part of you regrets taking him around to meet Jeongguk. You knew Namjoon wanted to meet him, but it was only for him to school the younger man in a history lesson. Not a hard feat, but nonetheless. It was still a very interesting encounter.

“And this is really what they used?” He asks, staring at the chair contraption for birthing behind the glass. It was old and rusted - not much to really look at - but he found it interesting anyways. “Strange.”

From another part of the room, you hear a familiar voice speak up, “-and over here you’ll all see a replica of a French Gillotine from France!”

You weren't going to pay him any mind until you noticed Namjoon tense up beside you, “Namjoon?”

“It’s him.” He mutters ominously.

“Jeongguk?” You ask.

“Isn’t it pronounced Guillotine?” You hear someone ask, only for the young guide to laugh, “No, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes.” Namjoon assures you.

When you turn to spot the boy in the crowd, you see him only a few feet away with his group around him, “Why don’t you all take a moment to look around at the artifacts of the room and I’ll be over here to answer any questions.”

You are more than aware of how Namjoon feels about Jeongguk, even if he is just a kid trying to get through college. With him being right there, it would be impossible to really keep the determined King away, especially with that look in his eyes.

“Do you want to meet him?” You ask, hesitant to really introduce the two to each other.

“Please.” He pushes up the sleeves of his jacket and you try your best to ignore the action, “I’d like to teach this kid a thing or two.”

The brunette walks away from you before you can say anything else and all you can do is follow after him and redirect the conversation.

“Jeongguk!” You call out, moving in front of Namjoon before he can say anything, “I want to introduce you to my friend Namjoon.”

“Namjoon? Like the mummy?!” He asks immediately, getting excited at the mention of his favorite dead guy, “Bro! That’s a crazy coincidence! He could be your great-great-really great-granddaddy!”

“Please don’t call him that.” You beg.

Namjoon clears his throat, clearly not prepared to deal with Jeon Jeongguk at all, “Yes, well, there is no relation. I am, however, what you would call a pro when it comes to the king.”

“Really?!” The boy only seems to get more and more excited with every word Namjoon speaks to life, “You know, I actually have a lot of questions if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Uh…” The king looks to you and you shake your head, unwilling to help him, “Sure thing?”

“Okay so is it true that when he was a boy he would run around the castle dragging hanbok behind him?! A few historians found in journals left in his tomb that that was something he would do. Do you believe them?!”

A hot blush creeps onto Namjoon’s face, “Uh…Well, you see-”

Watching Namjoon try to explain why he may - or may not have done - without giving Jeongguk too much information was an experience itself, but it paid off. You’d have never thought Namjoon would actually enjoy the conversation, but that was just a part of Jeongguk’s charm. Though, you could have done without Namjoon trying to use ‘lit’ and ‘yeet’ correctly in a sentence against the kid that uses the words every chance he gets.

Thankfully, the observatory is Jeongguk-free, and you’re more than happy to take Namjoon to see the stars. You let him choose the spot, a space far enough from a group of kids so that the two of you can talk quietly to the other during the showing.

“So what is this again?” He asks, as you both settle into your seats.

“It’s a light show that shows you the stars and their constellations.” You explain, “They even show you planets hundreds and thousands of miles away from ours.”

“Your technology never ceases to amaze me.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great when it needs to be.” You agree. The lights begin to dim and you playfully hit Namjoon’s arm out of excitement, “Oh! It’s starting.”

At the center of the room, the projector comes to life, projecting thousands of dots onto the ceiling. Each one shines and glistens differently, creating an illusion of shimmering like real stars in a night sky. The introduction begins to play, welcoming everyone to the observatory and inviting them to spend the next few minutes enjoying the view of the night sky before the lesson begins.

With this being one of your many trips to the museum’s observatory, you turn to Namjoon to see his reaction instead. Just like the other places you’ve taken him to, he’s very invested into what’s going on in front of him. His eyes glisten in the artificial starlight, and he looks so entranced by the holograms that decorate the ceiling.

A part of you is screaming at yourself to talk to him. To let him know everything about you. But another part just wants you to keep quiet and stop yourself from getting attached.

But how can you not want to share everything with him?

You decide for yourself, leaning on the arm rest to get closer to him so you wouldn’t disturb anyone else, “You know, when I was younger-“ He turns to you, “- and I lived in the country, I’d spend every night by my window just to look at the stars.”

“Really?” He asks.

“Mhm! I don’t why, but I’ve just always been drawn to the stars and the mysteries of space.” You admit. You look to the hidden constellations above you and let out a pleasant sigh, “Seeing them just makes me feel at home, you know?”

“I think I do.” He nods, “Thank you for telling me.”

Together you enjoy the calm and quiet of the display, happily listening to the narrator while you sit so close together. No one to bother you, no one to interrupt a peaceful moment. It’s something you’re more than happy to share with Namjoon, feeling much more comfortable than you have before.

Then again, happiness and calm can only last so long when Park Jimin runs the museum gift shop. And right now, y could do without him trying to sell Namjoon every item that catches his eyes though.

“This one is a real keeper! I’m telling you, these pens write like they were made for a god. They’re insane!” Jimin insists, showing Namjoon on a scratch piece of paper just how good they really are.

“Really? And they each have these cool designs?” Unbeknownst to Jimin, Namjoon really doesn’t know the difference between a good or bad pen. He could tell him it had a cap instead of a button and he would be in awe.

Jimin nods, “All of them.”

“Perfect.”

“Jimin!” You interrupt. You gain the attention of both of them and motion for Jimin to come to you, “Come here.” He leaves Namjoon to look on his own and jogs over with a mischievous smile, knowing that you’re frown is not good, “What are you doing?”

“My job.” He says.

You cross your arms, “I brought him here to meet you, not for you to sway him with your manly charms.”

Jimin shrugs, completely unbothered, “It’s not my fault if he falls victim to my tactics~”

“Oh you are a minx!” You huff, “I don’t see how Yoongi puts up with you.”

“He just makes my schedule and signs my checks. After that, I don’t see him at all.” Jimin explains, bragging more than anything as he begins to clean his counter.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see why.” You mumble. You push your angry thoughts about him away to change the topic so something else. Or more specifically; someone else, “Hey is Tehyung not here? Where is he?”

“He’s sick today,” He tells you, “He called me this morning and asked if I’d keep an eye on his exhibits.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Have you?” You pry.

“I love Taehyung. He’s my best friend!” Jimin assures you. He picks up his cleaning towel and throws it in the drawer by his register, replacing it with his phone, “But there’s no way in Hell that I will be spending my free time watching over exhibits that A. Have their own security and B. Don’t move.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I wouldn’t either and it’s my job to watch them.”

“I’d like to get this.” Namjoon says, breaking up the conversation. In his hands he holds a closed box, a box that Jimin showed you the other week.

The box with your necklace.

“Are you sure?” You ask, knowing that the price tag on it was a hefty one.

“Yeah.” He sets the box on the counter and then pulls a handful of cash out of his pocket, thoroughly surprising you.

“Wait, where’d you get this?” You ask.

“There was a nice guy that came in while you guys were talking.” He explains, “He asked who I was buying a gift for and gave me the money when I told him it was for you.”

“Did you get his name or see where he went? I can’t just let him pay that much.” You peer around him to see if the man was still nearby but Namjoon places a hand on your arm.

“He didn’t say. All he said was that I should put it to good use, so I am.” The king explains. He looks into your eyes with a pleading gaze, “Please.”

You’re powerless against his gaze and you nod to Jimin who is more than happy to ring up the over priced package, “One soulmate necklace for the handsome gentleman and his lovely lady.”

Namjoon doesn’t let you carry the bag, he doesn’t even let you touch it until you make it back to your apartment with dinner - that he also insisted on carrying. It’s long after the two of you have enjoyed your dinner that he finally lets you open the bag.

“Are you sure, your majesty?” You tease, earning yourself an unamused frown.

“Yes I’m sure.” He says, handing the bag over for you to take, “Open it.”

You do as he says, opening the bag and pulling out the box carrying the replica of your very own necklace. Lifting the lock and opening the lid, you’re met with the familiar shine of grey moonstones and pink gems held tight by a gold strand. Though, unlike the necklace sitting behind glass, this one has a hidden clasp that is better suited for modern tastes.

You take the shining jewels out of the box and hold it up for the both of you to admire, “It really is beautiful.”

“It’s very convincing.” Namjoon agrees. He takes the necklace from your hands and gestures to yourself, “May I?”

You're confused until you realize he wants to help you put it on, “Yeah-!” You turn your back towards him so he can place the necklace on you, “Yeah, sure.”

He’s gentle as he moves his arms around you, letting the jewelry lay flat against your collar before he shuts the clasp. When he taps your shoulder and you turn back around, he looks completely blown away, “Wow…”

“It looks good?” You ask.

He nods, “Come and see for yourself.” He stands up and gestures for you to go look in the mirror with him.

“Oh…” Standing in front of the mirror actually wearing the necklace, you really see the appeal. How it glistens in the light and the way it lays perfectly against your neck, you’re left speechless. “Wow indeed.”

Both of you stand there in front of the mirror, admiring the way the necklace looks. You had no idea a piece of jewelry could look so right, and now you were glad that if anyone gets to see it on you it’s Namjoon.

“I go back tomorrow? Yes?” He asks, his face head peering over your shoulder in the mirror.

You nod, “You do.”

“Could I-...�� He hesitates, “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Any rational side of you would have said no, but you just can’t stop yourself from running with the moment. You turn around so you can look at him face-to-face, “Sure. I’d like that.”

You grab your phone off the table and let him choose a song, knowing he’s quickly made himself his own playlist since being introduced to the 21st century. When you hear the soft instrumental ring through your speakers, you’re not surprised to hear it’s an older western song from the one Avengers movie. He’d fallen in love with it the other day and had been playing the scene over and over again.

“My lady?” He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to accept his offer.

You accept his hand, placing your own in his, “Your majesty.”

He pulls you towards him, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back while you rest your freehand on his shoulder. With small steps you sway together to the beat, letting the smooth sound of the trumpet lull you. Neither of you speak, but the silence isn’t unwelcome.

Eventually, Namjoon begins to hum. He begins to embrace the beat a bit more, swaying you a bit harder - though not in a rough way - and engaging you more into the song. You giggle as he pulls you against his chest and spins in circles, loudly imitating the voice of the trumpet. His obnoxious noises do little to sway the fun you have, especially when he pulls you away to spin only you instead.

“Namjoon!” You laugh, your hand grabbing his bicep to catch yourself.

“Dada da~! What?” He asks, briefly pausing his imitation to answer you, still insistent on swaying you.

“I thought you wanted to dance?” You remind him through stifled giggling.

“La la-!” He pauses, “I thought this was dancing. La la LA~”

You shake your head and pull your hand away from his, confusing him until you throw both arms around his neck with your head resting on his shoulder. You slow down his excited sways for soft, gentle ones.

“It is, but I like this better.” You mumble, just enough for him to hear you without hearing the embarrassment laced in.

This time Namjoon smiles, resting both hands at the small of your back and pulling you closer, “I think I do too.”

And so, the two of you continue to sway for the rest of the song and however many times it plays after. You take advantage of the moment you have. This moment in his arms. Even if it’s wrong, you allow it to feel right just for tonight.

“(Y/n)...?” Namjoon whispers.

You pull away, still in his arms but enough for him to see you, “Yeah?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you. His brown eyes staring into yours. It’s so intense it feels like he’s looking for something, like your eyes are a key to finding a hidden treasure. But you don’t ask him what he wants to say, instead you stare back. With eyes locked, he feels like a magnet just pulling you closer and closer until you finally realize that the two of you have inched too close for comfort. Just a little closer and you could feel his breath, touch his cheek…

kiss him

Without a second thought you pull yourself completely away, faking a cough so as not to hurt his feelings.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a reassuring hand coming to lay against your back and it’s fake convulsions.

You nod vigorously, pulling your body away from his touch and moving towards the kitchen, “I’m fine!” You assure him, “I just need some water.”

“Oh.” He says, awkwardly watching you from the living room. He shifts his weight between each foot as you make yourself a drink, “Did you want to continue?”

“Uh, no! I shouldn’t.” You say without thinking. You curse at yourself before you slowly set your cup on the counter and turn around to explain yourself, “I should really get cleaned up and ready for bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

He nods, “Right...I’ll get changed then.” He grabs the folded Ryan pajamas off of your coffee table and gives you an awkward, tight lipped smile, “Goodnight.”

“Yeah. Goodnight…” You say back, only the words feel bitter on your tongue.

You don’t want to say goodnight.

And you definitely don’t want to take him back.

Sneaking Namjoon back into the museum made your return to the night shift that much worse. It wasn’t that having Namjoon back in the museum wasn’t fine with you - you had already come to terms with that. But it was the constant talk of when he could go back that made it unbearable. You weren’t against the idea at all, but your next break would most likely be when it would be impossible to sneak him out.

It was already a mystery to you that Hoseok didn’t have any strange encounters with exhibits coming to life at all. As soon as the sun was down and you made your way back to Namjoon, you could hear their chatter from the other room as well as more chatter from more exhibits. It’s like over the weekend half of the museum just woke up. It didn’t bother you as much as it had the first night, but it’s still a new concept to grasp.

Even throughout the night you only became more and more tired. At one point, you told Namjoon you’d be in the office resting instead of walking around because you just didn’t have the energy. He understood, of course, but it took you a minute to explain that you just needed to rest alone for the night.

You were more than happy to go home after the first night back. You needed sleep and you needed it as soon as you could get it. You even rushed through your morning duties just to get your morning shift in and get yourself out.

It’s much later, when you’re feeling refreshed and ready for a new day that you find yourself walking into work again with a much better attitude. Walking through the front doors of the museum just sends a wave a peace over you and you embrace it wholeheartedly.

“(Y/n)!” You turn your attention to the sound of the voice, seeing Jin jog over from the information desk. You smile at him, but it disappears when you see how worried he looks.

“Are you okay?” You ask, concerned for your friend.

He stops in front of you and grabs your wrist, “You need to see this.” He pulls you after him towards his desk and pushes you into the chair. He clicks away from the Museum’s website to what looks to be security footage of the front stairs. He points at the screen, his finger covering the statue of three giraffe’s that stand at the right of the screen, “Watch closely.”

You do as he asks, watching the video for a few seconds before it looks like the camera glitches and the head moves. Immediately you register what’s happened, though you’re unsure if Jin has come to the same conclusion. You turn to your friend who looks right back at you and feign confusion, “Did the giraffe head move?”

“No! Why would the head move?” He lets out an exasperated sigh and points at the spot of the ‘glitch’ on the screen, “The camera! Someone moved the camera.”

You shake your head and play along, “The only way to move the outside cameras is with a ladder, and I would have seen it on the surveillance system.”

“I know, that’s what has everyone on edge.” He says, “Well, that and the gift shop.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “The gift shop?”

“Jimin came in this morning and it was ransacked!” He tells you.

“What?!” It wasn’t possible that anyone could get into the gift shop, not even you have a key for the gift shop, “There is absolutely no way anyone got into the museum, let alone the gift shop.”

“I know that and so do Hobi and Yoongi.” He assures you, “They’ve been looking at security footage all day trying to figure it out, but there’s nothing. They don’t know how it happened and Jimin insists that he would have never left it that messy.”

“We’re going to have to upgrade security.” You sigh. It’s not like you haven’t been saying that for weeks, but now you really need it if someone is planning to get into the museum, “If things are happening that we can’t explain, then we’re going to need more eyes.”

Seokjin nods, “That’s what they were saying.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “I can’t believe I let this happen on my watch.”

“Hey, you didn’t do this. We know that. Yoongi actually thinks it’s a ghost.” He laughs.

“What?” You ask.

“Yeah! But I’m not all that surprised.” He shrugs. His indifference, however, does nothing to help you, and he seems to take notice of this as well. The brunette places a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry too much, okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m sure this will all sort itself out.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.” You say, not entirely convinced anything will get solved. You stand from his desk and readjust your things on your shoulder, “’ll see you later.”

You head for your locker first, hearing the news from Jeongguk and Taeyong again before you meet Hoseok and Yoongi in the security room to hear it for a third time. They tell you exactly what Jin had told you, explaining their theories - even the superstitious one that isn’t that far off - and express to you how they don’t blame you for what’s happened. It’s a lot to take in all at once, especially when you have a really good idea of what’s going on.

Eventually they let you go to get on with your duties, letting you know that they’ll let you know what they decide on. You promise them to keep a sharp eye out, but you know there’s only so much you can do against whatever magic is going on in the museum.

Namjoon only mentioned that the necklace was a gift and made for his soulmate to bring him back to life so they could spend the rest of their lives together. Not once did he mention he’d be bringing everything else to life too! Then again, he was just as confused as you that first night the other exhibit came to life. If he didn’t know, then you doubt anyone would be able to tell you anything about what’s going on.

All expect for one.

It took you eight tries of running around the museum to find the blonde curator before you catch him fixing his belongings before he leaves through the official employee entrance, “Taehyung!”

He jumps, but smiles bright when he sees it’s you, “Hey, (Y/n), did y-”

You don’t give him the luxury to finish his sentence, however. As soon as you get close enough, you grab his arms to keep him in front of you, “What else do you know about the necklace?!”

“What?” He asks, his attention more focused on your grip than the actual question.

You sigh, “What else can you tell me about it? Is there anything you haven’t told me? Anything at all?!”

He shakes his head, “No! I told you everything!”

“Are you sure?!” You prod, only getting a nod in return. You groan and think for a moment, not letting up on your grip as you think of anything else that could help you, “What was the necklace supposed to do?”

You watch as he tries to recall anything that he hadn’t mentioned before or may have when you were zoned out. His face brightens when he gets something, “The necklace was supposed to bring light and happiness to him and his people! She was to be his light and bring the people to life!”

“Bring them to life…” You repeat.

He nods, “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“It’s bringing them to life.” You say, sparing no thought to Taehyung as you come to the realization.

“What’s bringing what to life?” Taehyung asks.

“Nothing!” You let go of his arms and brush off his shirt sleeves, “So if the necklace wasn’t with them?”

He shrugs, “I would assume it wouldn't matter. It's love, right? If anything, the special curse on the necklace would need to go away first.”

It’s then that you realize what he’s saying. If you want to get rid of the curse, then you and Namjoon have to destroy the necklace. But if you destroy the necklace, then would that destroy him too?

You open the employee door for Taehyung and usher him out, “I need to go.”

You try to close the door on him but he stops you, “Are you making questionable choices? What’s wrong?” He’s worried and you know he is, but now isn’t the time to have people worrying about you.

You shake your head and smile, “Nothing at all, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“(Y/n)-!”

You don’t waste any time closing the door in Taehyung’s face and locking it before he can ask anymore questions. You race to lock every door, double checking doors that aren’t yours just to be sure there’s no chance of any exhibit getting out and causing even more of a mess. You can’t let another exhibit make a mess that you don’t even notice! You didn’t even have access to leave the gift shop open for Namjoon to enjoy. It was completely off limits, yet it was still affected by the power of the necklace like everything else.

When you make it to Namjoon’s exhibit, he’s already waiting for you. Unlike every other night, his smile is replaced by confusion.

“Is everything okay? Why am I locked in?” He asks.

Seeing the confusion on his face only makes what you have to say even worse, “We need to get rid of the necklace.”

Namjoon confusion morphs into anger and his hands grip the gate tighter, “What? No!”

“Namjoon, things are getting out of hand-” You try to explain, but the king wants nothing to do with it.

“I refuse.”

You groan in annoyance, “Can you think about the consequences here? People could get hurt if all the artifacts finally come to life!”

“I’ve thought about nothing but other people for over 1,000 years! I’m tired of taking care of others!” He says, removing one hand to hit the gate with it.

You flinch, but you don’t falter, “Namjoon…”

He sighs, “All I’ve done with my life is serve my people. That’s it. I��ve never had one day to worry about myself until you touched that necklace and brought my soul back to life.” He looks so defeated and heartbroken as he lays his feelings out on the table. You want to hug him and tell him that nothing might happen to him, but you know that’s not what he wants to hear, “I don’t want to lose that yet.”

You place a gentle hand on the gate where his fingers slip through the bars, resting yours over his, “Things are starting to get out of hand Namjoon. Every night something changes. A new exhibit wakes up and starts causing chaos. The statues outside have been moving too! How long until it all comes to life and stays alive?”

He tries to come up with some kind of explanation, but he just shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

“It’s going to hurt so many people, including us.” You say, hoping if you use yourself as an example he may see reason. But his solemn look is replaced with a dedicated one instead.

“I will protect you. That is my duty as your king and your lover.” He assures you, “The necklace remains the same. End of discussion.”

He removes his hands from the bars and backs away to try and leave the conversation there, but you aren’t willing to let him win, “You can’t tell me you don’t see the problems around us!”

“And you can’t tell me that you honestly don’t feel anything for me!” He cries out, “These past weeks I know you’ve warmed up to me! You can’t call what’s happened between us nothing!”

You know he’s right, but you can’t afford to let him win at a moment like this. Especially when - if you admit your feelings - you have to then admit that you’re willing to give him up as well. “Can’t I?”

“It is my right as a king to be happy.” He says, redefining his position as king with you. He’s set his foot down and he’s making it as obvious as he can.“You won’t get rid of me without me agreeing. Get used to it.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Namjoon!” You scold.

“I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight.” He says curtly, turning and walking away from you.

“Namjoon!” You yell, hoping he’ll come back.

But he doesn’t.

He continues past the display cases that divide the room and hides on the other side where you won’t be able to see him. He doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t come back out. The only thing you can do is unlock his exhibit and give him time to think before you come back to see him.

“I’m sorry that we see things differently right now.” You announce to the exhibit, wanting to make sure he at least knows where you stand with him, “I’ll leave your exhibit open for when you get hungry. I’ll leave your food on the information desk on the first floor.”

No response.

“I really am sorry, Namjoon.” You say, lingering for just a moment longer than you should before turning your back on the exhibit and walking away.

---

Sitting in the security office has always felt boring, but tonight it feels even more so. Knowing that Namjoon is upset with you and not being able to do anything about it but give him space feels like waiting for test results you know won’t come back for a month. No amount of homework or idle keyboard clicking could change that for you, and it just made your night even more unbearable.

Maybe Namjoon is right.

There’s no way to know that everything that comes to life won’t be friendly or have the ability to calm down. For all you know, they could all come to life and just do their own thing.

But then again, there’s no guarantee that whatever comes to life won’t behave like it does in everyday life. You’ve already seen how the paintings interact amongst themselves and with each other, and there are a few that you’re glad aren’t statues.

“Ugh!” You groan, slamming the cover of your textbook closed. There’s just too much to think about, and the atmosphere of the security office is too stale for you to keep your thoughts straight.

You turn your chair away from the desk and stand up, stretching a little before you pick up your flashlight and leave the room. You make your way down the empty hall leading to the main entrance, hearing the soft chatter of exhibits as you go. It’s always normal to hear the sounds echo throughout the museum. You’re used to hearing the wails of children that don’t want to leave the children’s exhibit and the pleas or scolding of their parents.

You’d rather hear the children over the ominous noises that leave the stairwells.

At the information desk, you see a figure standing where you had left the food. Tall and swaying side to side awkwardly, you can’t help but chuckle at Namjoon as he knocks the pamphlet stand to the floor. He bends to pick it up, and as you get closer you can’t help but notice the clothes he’s wearing. A dark purple hanbok with a hint of blue and white around the collar.

That’s not what you remember him wearing.

“Namjoon?” You call out, closing in on the figure. When he turns to you though, who you assumed to be Namjoon is not even close. Who you thought was your dead king come to life is really a wax figure of a Silla Dynasty soldier you’d seen from an exhibit on this floor on the other side of the building.

“Uh...hi there.” You greet, awkwardly waving to the man inspecting what he’d knocked over.

The man in question doesn’t humor you though, instead he pulls his weapon and points it in your direction, “State your business.”

Your heart races at his demand and you instinctively clutch your flashlight tighter. With a level voice, you do your best to feign confidence, “I’m the night guard. I protect this building.”

“You?” He scoffs. He eyes you up and down before shaking his head, “A woman. How distasteful.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” You mumble, slightly annoyed at the return of misogyny. You take a breath to steady yourself and try again, “If you give me a moment, I can explain where you are.”

“I know where I am!” He yells, scaring you. You see his grip on his sword tighten and you can’t stop yourself from shifting your weight, “You’ve taken my Queen for a chance to replace her, and that’s a sin I cannot ignore!”

“What?” You think to the woman who sits behind the shatter-proof glass in his exhibit, realizing she must be who he’s talking about. You shake your head, “You have it all wrong! She’s not in any danger! She’s no prisoner!”

Now that you think about it, you’re not exactly sure how he got out of his exhibit. You locked it yourself. You know for a fact he shouldn’t be out and about. Yet here he stands in front of you, sword drawn and ready to strike you.

“Oh really? Then why have you trapped her in an unbreakable cage, wench?” He spits. He must’ve already tried to break her out himself, “I will not let a witch like you harm my Queen and not suffer the consequences.”

In the blink of an eye, he lunges forward. You barely have enough time to side step his advances, feeling a breeze as he rushes past you. You run behind the desk, grabbing the umbrella Seokjin keeps there in case of emergencies and running through the other side away from your assailant who follows you. You let out the loudest scream you can manage, hoping that Namjoon hears you as you run around the grand staircase in hopes of losing the man behind you.

You zig-zag in between pillars, running straight and grabbing one to help you make a quick u-turn to throw him off his guard. But no matter what you do, he stays on you. You round the staircase again and hide behind a pillar this time instead, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath.

When you don’t hear his footsteps, you take a hesitant peek behind the marble. Your eyes turn to saucers when they see him right in front of you with his sword drawn back. You turn quick, hearing his blade strike the pillar before he cries out, “Do not run from me!”

“Namjoon!” You shriek, once again hoping the king can hear you from where he is upstairs. You make a beeline down the hall away from the staircase, heading for the children’s exhibit’s in hopes to cut him off, “Help me! Please!”

The entire way down the hall the man stays hot on your trail, cursing at you and demanding you to listen to him. You pass the exhibits, hoping that if his was open one of these would be too. But as if fate is working against you, none look to be open for you. It’s not until you reach a dead end that you realize your mistake.

“This is your final resting place,” He declares, “Take your last breaths with pride.”

“No.” You shake your head, determined to get away from him. You press the button on your flashlight and point it in his eyes, blinding him enough to run past him again. However, you’re unprepared for the beads that litter the floor, sending you careening to the floor and skidding across the shiny tile.

“You cannot fool me, witch!” You hear him laugh from behind you. You use your elbows to push yourself up and grab your flashlight or the umbrella, but both objects are too far away from you. There’s no way you’ll be able to grab one before the man above you strikes. Instead, you turn yourself over to face him, eyeing the Silla Dynasty soldier with a false confidence.

“Your magic tricks are nothing against me, wench. I will be sure to tell my queen as much when I rescue her from your trap.” He divulges, dragging out your imminent death with a monologue. He laughs to himself, “You must think you’re so smart. Too bad your life is mine.”

He raises his sword and you lift your arm, eyes squeezing shut as you prepare for the blow. Only the blow never comes, and instead you hear a clash of plastic rustling against metal.

“Her life belongs to me just as mine does to her. You’ll do well to remember that.” Namjoon growls, his voice much lower than you’ve heard it before. When you open your eyes to see that it’s really him standing above you, you see he’s holding Jin’s umbrella against your attacker's sword, holding it steady to keep it from harming you or him.

“Namjoon…” You whimper, happy to see him.

Namjoon lifts his leg and kicks the guard back, knocking him to the floor and onto the beads the man had dropped. He turns to you and pulls you to your feet, placing a hand on the back of your head and pulling you in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead, “Run to my exhibit and lock the gate. I’ll be there for you soon.”

“I can’t leave you.” You protest, holding onto his biceps to keep him from pulling away.

Behind Namjoon the man groans as he stands, breaking up the moment the two of you had and pulling you back to the reality at hand. He turns to place his entire body in front of yours and holds his one hand behind him to steer you back, “Now!”

As much as you want to stay and help him, you know you’ll only distract him. There’s nothing you can do to help him any longer, so you do as he tells you and you run. You run as fast as you can and make it to the staircase, running past it to the information desk where the computers lay open and ready to go. You pull up the security feeds and flip through camera after camera until you find the hallway where Namjoon fights the once wax figure with the umbrella.

It lasts for a few more swings until Namjoon finally backs him into a corner and hits him in the head, knocking the figure unconscious instead of taking him out entirely. Instant relief washes through you as you watch the man fall to the floor, asleep for who knows how long. Just as long as Namjoon is still standing and physically okay, you’re happy for now.

You catch your breath and collect your thoughts as he makes his way back down the hall to you, working on what you’ll say to him in your mind and hoping that whatever you come up with will be good enough.

“(Y/n)?” Namjoon calls from the stairs, surprised to see you at the desk and not upstairs where he’d asked you to go.

You only shake your head, “I know and I’m sorry. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

“It’s fine, I understand,” He assures you, “I actually wanted to say that I-” Namjoon is interrupted by a growl, a low throaty one that comes from the staircase just down the hall, You both turn very slowly towards the sound, and are met with two sharp green eyes of the tiger from the downstairs animal exhibit.

“(Y/n)...” He tries to call out to you, but you shake your head, “Don’t move, Namjoon.”

“I told you I’d protect you.” He reminds you.

You see the way his eyes flicker from the tiger to the opposite end of the hall and you hold a breath, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Run to my exhibit and I’ll meet you there.” He promises before clapping his hands together and shuffling to his side to run towards the exhibit’s the guard had come from. The tiger immediately locks onto him and takes off, Namjoon sprinting down the hall to lead it away, “Go! Now while you still can.”

The tiger passes you, but you can’t bring yourself to run away from Namjoon. You can’t bring yourself to leave him alone again. So you take off after the two as well, following them down the hall into the ancient jewel’s exhibit. The whole room is stocked full, large enough to run around with an exit gate on the other side. It’s one of the few rooms to have two gates, and right now you were more than happy for that.

Namjoon and the tiger haven’t noticed you yet, the two run in circles around each other with Namjoon trying to outrun and outsmart him. You take that opportunity to close the gate behind you and lock it up, leaving only one exit for you to escape from.

“Namjoon!” You yell, grabbing his attention as he runs past another display case.

He lets out an exasperated yell when he sees you, “I told you to go upstairs!”

“I won’t leave you!” You yell back, “Run to the gate and close it behind you!”

“No! Not while you’re in here!” He argues, making another pass around a display case.

“Do it!” You demand. You run further into the room and grab the tiger’s attention, pulling it away from Namjoon so you can enact your escape plan, “Here kitty kitty kitty~!”

The overgrown feline takes notice of you, giving Namjoon a chance to run to the doors and pull the gates together again. You lead it away just as Namjoon had done for you, doing what you can to distract the tiger and put enough space in between the two of you.

When you finally get an opening, you take it. You make a beeline for the gate where Namjoon is and grab your keys, “Open it!”

Namjoon throws the gate open and closes it as soon as you pass him, holding it shut while you fish for the right key. “(Y/n)...anytime now.”

“Hold on-” You breathe, flipping through your keys for the correct one, “I almost have it.”

“It’s going to claw my hands off!” Namjoon yells.

“I got it!” You cry, shoving the key into the lock and turning it before the tiger can pounce on the gate or their hands.

The two try to catch their breaths, but more yelling comes from down the hall. It leaves the two of you with only the option to run as fast as you can back to the main entrance to get to his exhibit and lock yourselves in.

“Hold my hand and don’t let go, okay?” Namjoon tells you, making sure you understand with a nod before he pulls you after him.

The two of you run again, quickly meeting more Silla soldiers and dodging them like you had their friend. Birds and other animals far more inviting than the tiger run into you both, but you only keep running to the stairs. Namjoon continues to pull you along, even as he takes the stairs two-by-two in hopes of reaching his exhibit before anyone else can apprehend the two of you.

Even as you run, you’re thumbing through your keys to find his. You keep up with every step and hold on tight to his hand, even more so when you feel his key hit your palm. He pulls you along and into his exhibit, the both of you letting the other go so you can shut the gate and lock it behind you.

Namjoon takes your hand again and pulls you deeper into the room, hiding behind the display cases as the other’s reach his gate, “You were right. We have to get rid of it!”

You shake your head, “Then I’ll lose you!”

“You’ll lose me anyways if we don’t do this!”

“I don’t know if I can any more…” Within hours the two of you have changed mindsets, but now there’s no time to think of a new plan. The only thing you can do is hope for the best outcome now.

Namjoon takes your face in his hands, gently cupping your cheeks as unshed tears well up between the two of you, “(Y/n), I’ve waited so long to have you, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t listen to what you had to say earlier.”

You shake your head, “I’m sorry for not listening to you! You were right. Just like you always are. I’ve loved spending every minute with you, and I don’t want you to go.” Your voice breaks and you can see it in his eyes that it’s getting to him too.

“This past month that I’ve been able to enjoy with you, has been more than I could have ever asked for.” He admits, placing a kiss against your forehead, “But it’s time to say goodbye.”

“No.” You shake your head, “No you can’t say goodbye.” You wrap your arms around his torso and hold him close, squeezing as tight as you can in hopes it’ll block out the sounds of the angry mob outside, “Please, don’t say goodbye yet.”

“You’ll see me again.” He assures you, gently running his thumb over the back of your head.

“Namjoon, please...” you beg, hoping that if he hears how much you really care for him that he’ll change his mind one more time.

But instead he pulls back so you can see his face and he can see yours. Smiling his cute dimpled smile with glassy eyes as he says, “I love you.”

Before you can change your mind, you find the display case key on your keychain and unlock the glass. No alarm rings, only the sounds of banging on the exhibit’s gate ring in your ears as you pull the necklace from its place. You turn with it towards Namjoon, but you’re hesitant to hand it to him. Knowing that when you do, you’ll have to say goodbye no matter what.

Namjoon senses your hesitance, and pulls you in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace and holding you close against his body, he tries to convey every thought he’s thinking into one hug and make it last for a lifetime.

With one final burst of confidence, you pull yourself away from Namjoon and press your lips against his for the first and last time, relishing in the feeling of being so close to him as his free hand brushes over yours - the one holding the necklace.

All too soon, he pulls his hand back a tight grip around the necklace, breaking the jewel into a million pieces. You can feel the magic of the necklace burst free from it’s confines as you feel the kiss you share with Namjoon dissolve away. And when you finally gain the courage to open yours eyes.

He’s gone.

The loud banging is gone.

All signs of life besides yours are gone.

You’re left with nothing but a broken necklace and an empty room where the only sounds you can hear are the silence of the building, the shakiness of your breaths, and the pounding ache of your heart.

You can’t stop the sob that leaves your mouth as reality settles in and crashes down on you that he’s left and he’s gone and there’s nothing you can do to get him back anymore. You weep for the love you found and lost in such a short time, and you can’t stop yourself from wishing you hadn’t pushed him away as you had. From wishing you had appreciated him more while he was here. You cry out to the world for them to hear, but there’s nothing but the silent void that calls back.

Then you hear the footsteps.

They’re soft at first, only a patter. And then they get louder and it’s like someone is racing to get to you. Rationale leaves your mind as you come to the realization that Namjoon is still there! He didn’t disappear as you thought he had!

But nothing can mask your disappointment when you see the soft blonde locks of Taehyung run through the door. Nothing but pain and confusion.

“Taehyung?” You ask, wiping a tear, “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I had to check on you.” He explains. He kneels down to your level and places a hand on your shoulder, “You just lost your soulmate, I couldn’t not comfort you.”

“How did you know? I never introduced you to Namjoon. No one knew about Namjoon.” You ramble on, trying to think of when you’d ever let Namjoon slip through the cracks. Then it dawns on you, that someone had to have let him in here and it wasn’t you, “Did Hoseok let you in.”

“There’s a lot that I need to explain to you.” He says. You’re confused, but you allow him a chance to explain himself. He had to have something good if it meant he got into the museum and knew about Namjoon. But then again, there was also the mention of the burglar messing with the museum equipment to break in. If anything, you’re hoping Hoseok or Yoongi is with him rather than him being a thief.

“I’m the moon goddess.” He says.

Not what you were expecting.

“But you’re a boy.” You say without thinking. You pause for a moment to think and retrace your steps, “I mean I’m not judging, but I’m just confused.”

“When I first approached Namjoon he mistook me for a woman and I just never corrected him.” He explains. There seems to be more to his story, but you weren’t going to push it at the moment. “I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve put you through.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” You ask. If he was trying to help you and Namjoon, then he should’ve just told you that first night instead of this elaborate scheme to bring the two of you together.

He sighs, “I wanted to, but fate is tricky. I can bring you together, but fate has every right to pull you apart. I really thought this was it this time.”

“This time?” You question. Taehyung freezes, glancing at you and then to the floor in thought. It’s as if he’s having a battle within himself on the inside, something you’ve never seen from him before. “Taehyung?”

“Can I show you something?” He asks.

You raise a brow in confusion, “Show me what?”

“Your past life.”

“My past life?” You repeat.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve crossed paths with Namjoon.” He explains. Gently, Taehyung takes one of your hands and squeezes lightly, sending the room around you swirling in a funnel of blue and gold. When it stops, you find yourself in a wooden room filled with clay pots, water, and rolls upon rolls of fabric. A bed lays in the center of the room, and in the corner is where a woman who looks a lot like you sits with her hands folded in her lap.

“This is your past life with Namjoon.” He says, the thumb of the hand holding yours rubbing the back of it gently.

“I was a doctor?” You ask, taking in the simple clothes you wear as well as the supplies within the room.

“Yes.”

“Miss-” Another Taehyung peeks his head around the corner, only this one wears a woman’s hanbok in a baby blue with his long hair left down to sway free, “-his majesty would like to meet you.”

“Right!” Your other self stands quick, her hands pressed tight against her sides before she follows Taehyung out of the room.

You turn to Taehyung with an inquisitive stare, “Why are you wearing a woman’s hanbok?”

“It’s complicated, just follow me- Well, us.” He pulls you along after him, going through the door that had been shut behind your other selves.

The both of you follow them down the hallway to a room with two guards at the door. When they see Taehyung, they bow and open the doors, letting your past selves enter the room with you following after them.

On a large bed, tucked under satin sheets lay your king, cheeks sullen and heavy bags under his eyes. It doesn’t take a doctor to see how sick he is, and it breaks your heart just to see him in such a state. “Namjoon…”

“Your majesty, the doctor who will perform on you has arrived.” Taehyung’s younger self announces. When Namjoon doesn’t answer, he gently shakes him awake, “Your majesty?”

Namjoon opens his eyes slowly, taking a moment to register what Taehyung’s told him. He sees your other self, and you see a glimmer of the smile he’d shown you only minutes prior, “I-” The king coughs, “I thank you...for coming all this way. I hope-” he pauses, “I hope your trip was well.”

Your past self bows her head in respect, “It was very gracious of you, your majesty. I am honored to ease you into the afterlife so that you may meet your one true love.”

Namjoon gives a subtle nod of his head, “Your words warm my heart...I thank you for your service.”

“It is my honor.” You say, bowing your head in respect, “You should rest now, my king. You need your energy for when you wake again.”

“Yes...I look forward to it.” He muses, eyes closing once again.

You feel the tears on your cheeks, but your past self doesn’t bat an eye as she turns to Taehyung’s former self, “He won’t make it through the night. Not like this.”

“That’s what we’ve feared.” Taehyung admits solemnly. He allows a moment of peace before a thought rushes to him, “The king! He asked me to make sure you receive all of his items that will be in his tomb.”

“Shouldn’t his servants be the ones to keep track of his belongings?” You ask him, watching as he searches the room for something.

“Yes, but he told me himself, he wishes to have his lover’s necklace with him.” He assures you. He takes a minute, but he finds the box in only a few moments on a chest closer to the door, “I would bring it back myself, but I do not wish to leave the king in his final hours.”

You nod in understanding, “I understand. I’ll take it for you. Anything for his majesty.”

You watch as your past self reaches for the box to take it back to the medical room with her, but a guard barges in and stops her, “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“His majesty asked for his belongings to be moved to his operation room.” You explain, your hands quickly moving back to yours sides.

“No one but his royal guards are to touch the necklace!” The guard bellows. He grabs your past self and pushes her towards the door, “Out with you!” Another guard meets her before she stumbles to the floor and the first guard gets in his face, “Make sure she gets back to her room, and don’t let her out until the king has passed.”

“Please, she was just following orders. I heard them myself.” Taehyung’s previous self tries to explain. Unfortunately, for the both of them, the guard wants nothing to do with it.

“When my king tells me what he wishes, then I will his - and only his - orders.” The guard spits, slamming the door in past Taehyung’s face.

The door closing sends the image into smoke, and when it clears you find yourself back in the museum in the same empty exhibit.

“When they wouldn’t listen to me, I vowed to bring you together in your next lives.” He tells you, his head to the ground. When he meets your eyes, there are tears running down his cheeks, “But I failed again.”

“Tae…”

“I’m so sorry.” He weeps, hanging his head in shame once again.

You only move closer to him and wrap your arms over his shoulders, “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Together you mourn the loss of a friend

A promise

And a lover.

~ Read Part 3 ~

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