#i was genuinely wishing for someone to splash cold water on me just so i could escape

[that-jack-kline-bestie]

i keep having this thing where im in like. a sleep loop

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Warnings: allusions to abuse. Not against steve or Eddie but against both of their mothers. Other than that this is sweet i promise. Also just realized it's mothers day so... this is possibly awkward, possibly fitting. Take care my lovelies.

Steve had always loved the rain. Not storms, necessarily. But the rain. The pitter patter of drops on the roof. And the street. And the leaves in the trees. The surface of his pool on unnaturally warm spring day. The way the drops felt cold and tingly on warm skin. Steve loved it all.

Loved sitting with his feet in the pool, dangling over the edge, into the water, as he let the rain soak him through. Let his shirt stick to his skin as rain drops dripped from his hair into his eyes.

His mother had started his love for it. Always jumping in puddles with him on their way to the car in the grocery store parking lot. Both of them laughing as they held hands and ran and jumped, splashing their clothes and soaking their shoes and not caring at all for the mess they were making of themselves.

Steve missed those days. Missed his mother being happy. Her warm smile keeping the chill of the rain away. Steve supposed sitting in the rain, and watching it fall across the top of the water, was his way of bringing those feelings back.

But deep down. He'd always wished for someone to share this with. He'd tried with Nancy. And she was no priss, really she wasn't, obviously. But when he'd asked her to walk in the rain with him once, she'd given him this look. Like she'd thought he was crazy. Or ridiculous. Or just being weird, dumb, Steve.

He hadn't asked again.

But he'd wanted too. So many times. Of so many people. He was sure Robin would love it too. But he hadn't been brave enough to ask yet.

And then there was Eddie. They'd been dancing around something for what was probably close to a year now. There was an ache in Steve's chest everytime it rained. Longing to walk out into the rain, hold his hand out to Eddie, and ask him to take it.

But he was scared. And he was trying to come to terms with that fear. And that ache. When he heard the door open behind him. He heard a few stumbled footsteps and jingling chains, and hung his head a bit, smiling into his lap.

Eddie.

It was movie night. Steve had forgotten, lost in the rain.

He should get up. Go inside. Dry off so they can start whatever movie  Eddie had brought to lecture him on tonight. Steve would roll his eyes, but he loved listening to Eddie talk about things he loved. Loved all the little details he added, fun facts he knew that Steve never would have found out on his own.

He plants his hands to stand just as Eddie plops himself down next to Steve. Shoes removed somewhere behind them, jeans folded up a bit around his shins. Eddie lowers his feet into the water easily, taking care, ridiculously, not to splash, and turns to look at Steve with that fucking smile.

"Great weather right?" He asks, genuine delight dripping from his lips, and shinning in his eyes. Steve feels like he's flying a bit to close to the sun, the way Eddie shines. He just nods, bites his lip and looks into his lap again. Eddie knocks his shoulder into Steve's.

"Why ya sittin in the rain Steve?" He asks, still sounding happy, no judgment, and to Steve's suprise, no worry.

"I just like the rain." He says, easy. No lies. Not with Eddie. He's been making an effort to only tell Eddie the truth... about most things. He feels more than sees Eddie nod beside him.

"Me too. Love it. Nothin quite like sittin in the rain." He says, easy. Bumps into Steve again, he's swaying a bit now, side to side. Gentle as you please. It's a thing he does. Steve finds it hypnotizing in the best way.

"Yeah." Steve says dumbly, internally kicks himself. Eddie huffs a laugh next him as their shoulders collide again.

"Ya know," he leans closer, stops his swaying for a moment. His eyes focused on Steve, bangs dripping water down his face. Steve blinks rapidly, trying to focus on what Eddie is about to say, and not on the jealousy he feels for the raindrops slowly moving over Eddie's skin.

"I used to climb onto the roof of the trailer when it rained. Just lay there. Eyes on the sky." He glanced up, squinting into the rain and then looking back to Steve with a small smile, his 'just for Steve' smile.

"Drove Wayne crazy. He worries." Eddie tilted his head, the 'Bless him.' heavily implied in his tone. Steve snorts.

"I wonder why." He says, voice dry. Eddie's eyes move his face quickly, before he laughs and sways away again.

"That's fair. I did almost get struck by lightning once." Eddie muses, then rounds on Steve suddenly, eyes wide, finger pointing accusingly.

"Don't, tell him that." He's using his serious face, it makes Steve smile.

"I wouldn't dare." He holds his hand over his heart.

"Scouts honor." He says, holding his other hand up. Eddie leans back a bit, looks Steve up and down, wipes water out of his eyes before looking away again.

"You would have been a scout." Eddie shakes his head, rolls his eyes, but he smiling that smile again.

"Four years. Yeah. It wasn't horrible." Steve concedes, shrugging, and he sighs softly at the feeling of his wet shirt tugging on his shoulders.

They're silent for a long moment. Both of them just sitting, watching the rain. Eddie rocking back and forth absent-mindedly next to him now, his feet gently kicking back and forth in the water.

"My mom used to jump in puddles with me. In the store parking lot. And once out there," Steve points out over the pool, into the back yard, Eddie leans closer, his eyes following where Steve's pointing.

"We ended up covered in mud. Both of us laughing so hard we could barely breathe. Dad wasn't home so the mess didn't matter. We were just having fun. I miss her being fun." Steve hadn't meant to say that part, not really. But it had slipped, his cheeks heating a bit. But Eddie didn't even stumble over the confession.

"Why isn't she fun anymore? Cuz'a him?" Eddie asks, like it's easy, this thing Steve hates to talk about, and think about. He swallows, hard, and nods. Sees Eddie nod back, a sad smile on his lips now, until they quirk to the side, his scarred cheek pulling up a bit as he makes his thinking face.

"She could leave him? Take you too." Eddie says, and it's a question. He's prodding, a bit, always curious. Steve takes a deep breathe, straightening his back as he breathes deep.

"Sorry. None of my business." Eddie shakes his head once, his hair so thoroughly soaked now that it barely moves on his shoulders.

"No it's okay. I just," he pauses, takes another deep breath, thinking.

"I think she's stuck. Like... she can't leave." Steve shakes his head too, wipes at his face, moving the water out of his eyes, off his nose where it's tickling.

"Catholic?" Eddie asks, easy. And Steve stares at him.

No one had asked that before. Or mentioned it. People always being nosy and presumptuous, saying if she really cared about herself, or for Steve, that she would just go. But it wasn't that simple. And Steve had never been able to explain it very well.

But Eddie had explained it fine. With one word. A knowing look in his eyes. Steve suddenly remembers all the things he's heard about Eddie's dad, how he's never heard much about his mom, and his stomach sinks, his throat catching on the fire gathering there.

Steve nods. Eddie nods back. Smiles that small smile into his lap again.

"People don't understand some things. Ya know?" Eddie asks, bumping into Steve again. He sways away once more and Steve follows, presses his shoulder to Eddie's firmly. Eddie stills, let's him lean there.

"And ya know what?" He looks at Steve, eyes peeking out under his dripping bangs.

"What?" Steve asks, his palms and fingers itching, wanting to reach out and touch Eddie. To wipe the water from his eyes. To tuck his hair behind his ear. To hold his hand. Maybe kiss him a little.

"It's none of their fucking business. You know your mom. You know what she was like. How she cared for you. You'll always have those memories. Ya know? I mean, if you don't have anything else." He shrugs, leans his weight into Steve's shoulder, comforting. Steve closes his eyes, tries to think of something to say to the gift Eddie's just given him.

Because he's right. She's Steve's mother. She loved him. Always. And whatever else she was, or how she acted, was none of anyone's business. Steve had his mother. His memories of her. Her warm smile, and bubbly laugh. She was his. No matter how his father changed her, or kept her away. She was Steve's. Always Steve's. Maybe only ever his. God knows she wasn't his father's, probably never had been.

He realizes he's been sitting, not saying anything, Eddie still firmly pressed against him. Silent. Letting Steve process, or grieve, or whatever he assumed Steve might doing. He was just letting him do it, and supporting him, in more ways than one.

"Did your mom like the rain?" He asks, finally breaking the silence. And it's the right question. Because it makes Eddie laugh. A good. Genuine. Proper laugh. His head tilted back, face to the sky, basking in the rain falling on them. He sighs, looks back to Steve.

"She fuckin loved the rain. I guess that's were I got it. Wayne use to mutter 'just like your mother' everytime he had to dry me off when I was little and out puddle hopping like a violent frog." He makes a little sound in his throat, sounds exactly like the bullfrogs Steve used to hear at the lake and a laugh bursts out of him. Eddie's answering, crooked smile, is dazzling. Steve longs to reach out and touch those dimples.

"Wanna see what she used to do to me?" Eddie asks, his voice quiet now, he sounds a bit shy, so Steve leans closer, nods, his eyes glued to Eddie's face.

He doesn't have time to wonder if the shyness was real, or a ruse to get him close, but it didn't matter. Because once he was close, a mischievous glint tinted Eddie's eyes and Steve knew he'd made a mistake.

"She did this." He said around a smirk and shook his head violently side to side. His hair throwing water like a shaking dog. A few wet strands smack Steve in the face and he startles back, or tries too. But he forgets they're on the edge of the pool and his hand misses the ledge as he sways back and then promptly falls into the water.

When he surfaces again Eddie is cackling, holding his hands over his stomach as he looks at Steve. His eyes bright. The water is warm, the rain cold on Steve's shoulders as he stands, forces himself to glare at Eddie, even as a smile tugs at his lip. He stalks toward Eddie, slowed by the drag of the water. Eddie smile drops.

"No no no no no! Steven don't you dare!" He shrieks, but Steve notes, he makes no effort to get away, aside from leaning back a little. Steve grabs Eddie's waist swiftly and tosses him into the water.

He comes up sputtering. Hair flat around his head. He looks like a drowned rat. Or one of the fluffy cats that gets wet and looks miseral and skinny and grumpy. Eddie lifts his hands and then drops them again.

"I said no. I did say no, yeah?" He says, then asks, squinting at Steve through the water from the pool and the water from the rain.

"No yeah, you did. I just didn't listen." Steve shrugs, laughs, falls back into the water and then goes under, opens his eyes and looks at Eddie standing there. He watches him wiggle his toes against the bottom of the pool, it makes him look nervous. So Steve swims forward, gets as close as he can to Eddie, until Eddie backs away a bit, and then he resurfaces. Eddie's hands are held up in front of him.

"Don't splash me." He warns, hands lowering into the water.

"I splash back. That's the only warning you get!" He warns, hands flicking water at Steve, who just smiles.

"We're already wet Eds." He rolls his eyes, snorts when Eddie lowers his hands.

"Oh. Right. Duh." Eddie scoffs, mostly at himself. Steve stands, shakes his head the way Eddie had, throwing water into the boys face. When he opens his eyes and Eddie is flinching, sputtering out water dramatically, dragging a hand down his face.

"Very funny. You're a natural." Eddie says, voice dry. He's got that cute grumpy cat look going again and Steve can't help it. Can't stop himself.

He steps forward. Into Eddie's space. And presses his lips gently against Eddie's. He doesn't kiss back. Just makes a small startled noise in his throat. But he doesn't pull away. Steve does. Thinks maybe he read this all wrong. He opens his eyes and sees how red Eddie is, and knows he didn't misread anything.

"You okay?" He breathes.

"Mhm. What-" Eddie's voice breaks, he clears his throat, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

"W-what was that for?" He asks, his eyes locked on the water between them. Steve shrugs.

"Because I wanted to. That alright?" Steve asks, ducking his head to try and get Eddie to look at him. Eddie blinks, hard, and brings his eyes up, meeting Steve's. He nods. Doesn't say anything.

Steve moves, wraps his arm around Eddie's waist and pulls him close. Eddie makes a little high pitched noise in his throat when their chests meet and it drives Steve a little wild. But it also makes him realize what's happening. With Eddie. He's never done this.

"I can show you how. We can go slow." Steve breathes between them, his free hand lifting, dragging his fingertips over Eddie's cheek, touching the scar there gently, trying to convey everything he's been feeling for months into the touch.

Eddie whines, leans into the touch, pressing his cheek into Steve's palm. Snuggling closer like the cat he is. Steve smiles, cradles Eddie's face with his hands. Eddie's hands move to his hips, Steve can feel him trembling.

"I've got you." Steve breathes. Eddie nods, his mouth falling open just so before he surges forward and kisses Steve again. Their second kiss. Eddie's second kiss ever. Steve is so sure.

It starts frantic, Eddie's lips crashing against his. But he immediately loses his confidence and just, stands there, lips pressed to Steve's. Steve almost laughs into, but catches himself, doesn't wanna scare Eddie or hurt him, not now that he's just got him.

So Steve breathes through his nose and moves. Moves his hands to Eddie's hips and holds him steady. Moves his lips gently against Eddie's, slowly, until Eddie gets the memo and follows his lead.

It's clumsy, and awkward, and Eddie's palms are hot on Steve's shoulders where he's holding on for dear life. And it's completely and utterly intoxicating. Steve pulls back first, just a bit, to breathe. Eddie sways, his lips chasing Steve's. Steve catches him around the waist, keeps him still. Smiles at him when he blinks heavily, his eyes opening slowly, to look at Steve.

"Did-" he stops, his cheeks going an impossibly deeper shade of red, nearly matching the scar on his cheek. Steve soothes his thumb over said scar. Widens his eyes, letting Eddie know he's listening.

"Did I do that okay?" He asks, his face scrunching up. Steve nods, pulls Eddie's head down a bit, presses a kiss to his forhead.

"You did it perfect." Steve says, nods. Kisses him again. Soft and sweet.

"Movie?" Steve asks, head resting against Eddie's. Eddie nods, his breathing slowing a bit as Steve holds him, his thumb rubbing small circles into Eddie's hip.

"Yes. Yeah. Movie sounds great." Eddie agrees, nodding. Steve smiles, takes Eddie's hand and leads him up the steps out of the pool, their fingers tangled together as the rain poured around them.

Steve gets them dry clothes, and a pile of blankets. And later, when they're tangled together underneath them, legs and hands entwined, Steve's hand in Eddie's still damp hair.

He glances away from the movie, and out the window, smiling as he watches the rain fall, his chest warm with the feeling of finally having someone to love the rain with. He drifts off, the sound of Eddie's deep, sleeping breaths against his chest, lulling him into a peaceful sleep. And he dreams, of raindrops catching in Eddie's lashes as they dance in the rain, spinning through puddles with mud on their feet and warmth in their hearts.

[book-pirate]

Astarion x Tav, because the Baldur's Gate brain rot is real. Sorry to my beloved mutuals who have no idea what I'm on about!!! I don't know either!!!!!!

tripping over my own heart AO3

“I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

Tav is maybe not the best judge of when people are trying to flirt with her. It’s funny, really, because she can sniff out bullshit from a mile away, and her gut hasn’t been wrong once on their absolutely insane journey. There are a million excuses she could use, to try and explain why in this one facet of social interaction she fails, but the simple truth is it just doesn’t occur to her that someone might be in to her.

Especially Halsin.

Without thinking, she blurts out, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested,” realizes how that sounds, and then continues with a cringe, “but I’m already in a relationship.”

Which should not be news to you! she stops herself from saying.

Part of her expects it to end the conversation, but he keeps talking, about bonds and souls and gardens and nature. She has to actively fight herself to remain calm, have her face stay open and friendly instead of running to Shadowheart and asking how she might voluntarily give up the memory of this interaction ever happening.

There’s a snicker in her head that sounds suspiciously like her friend’s as she finally extracts herself from the conversation with a polite, “I’m sorry, Halsin.”

He seems to understand and doesn’t hold it against her, maintaining his smile, even if it’s a touch bittersweet as she walks away. Her gait is steady and casual as she walks to the edge of the camp, avoiding eye contact as she focuses on her footing on the path towards the small river they’d managed to find. After all, she had been on the way to wash up when Halsin had asked to chat. Something she is very much Not Thinking About It.

Until she dips her toes in the river, peeling off her clothing with care. She can’t wait to do laundry in the city, and have a proper bath in something that isn’t a natural body of water. As a druid, she loves being outdoors, but a hot bath is incomparable. Even Halsin -

The thought of him stops her cold, and suddenly she finds herself giggling, grabbing at her soap as she wades further into the river. That makes what, five of her eight traveling companions that have blatantly come on to her? The girls back home would never believe it. Homely little Tav, suddenly finds herself with a string of suitors. All it took was a tadpole eating away at her brain.

The general lack of attention she’d received her entire life are probably why it always takes her by surprise when someone admits to wanting her. She’s no blushing virgin, but rarely has she ever been so desired. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t surprised when Astarion admitted his plan, felt something like sick acceptance in her stomach. No, the surprise came after, when he told her he genuinely cared for her.

She’d been prepared to take her own feelings to the grave, accepting that she’d share Astarion’s bedroll, or grassy clearing, until he decided he was done. The man flirted with everyone, and she’d assumed it’d been lack of choice that lead him to her. Instead, they’d fallen into something deeper, scaring both of them.

It’s not easy, by any means, but by pushing sex off the table and getting more comfortable with platonic touches, they’re growing into something she feels like might be big. Even rest-of-her-life big. Which is another shock, in and of itself.

“And what has you so lost in thought, my dear?”

She stifles a shriek as she whirls around, inadvertently splashing an amused-looking Astarion as he wades closer. “You startled me!”

He grins as he pries the bar of soap from her pruney fingers. “Apologies, my love, but I did say hello. It’s hardly my fault you were miles away and didn’t hear me.”

“I don’t believe I was done with that.”

“No?” he asks, all faux innocence as he scrubs at his torso. “You’ve been in the water for nearly a quarter of an hour now, so I merely assumed you were just -”

“Relaxing?” She hums as she takes the soap from him and starts to scrub at his back, mindful of the scars. Part of her feels like she should be attempting to cover her nudity, but another, much larger part, reveled in the intimacy born of just simply being with him. “I meant for just a quick wash, since we’re going to be in the city proper tomorrow. I don’t want to show up looking like we’ve just spent the last tenday hiking.”

“I cannot agree more, darling. Mustn’t have the locals mistaking us for goblins, covered in muck and grime and speaking in mono-syllables.”

She laughs at the image he paints. “As if anyone could mistake you for such a creature.”

Preening, he says, “Yes, well, unfortunately for our little group not everyone can be as blessed as I. In fact, our first order of business should be getting Gale to a barber, as soon as possible.”

The chatter about being in the city again occupies them while they finish cleaning up, and Tav doesn’t think about anything other than the excitement of the new day until Astarion gives the braid he just finished helping her put her hair into a little tug. “You never answered my question, you know.”

She tips her head back to lean on his chest, blinking up into his face. “What question?”

A perfectly manicured eyebrow arches up. “Why you were so lost in thought, my dear.”

“Oh. Oh,” she says, scooting forward just enough to turn around to look at him properly, knelt in the grass with a curious look on his face. “You wouldn’t believe the conversation I had with Halsin on my way here -”

To her surprise, he erupts in laughter, interrupting her. “I was wondering when we were going to talk about this.”

Her eyes go wide as she feels her face heat. “How could you tell?”

“I guessed. The man can’t stay quiet about ‘enjoying the freedom of Nature’s gifts’.” She can’t help but laugh at his Halsin impression as he continues, “I bet he’d outlaw clothing if he could.”

The mental image has her covering her face with a groan. “Astarion!”

“It’s perfectly natural, after all, darling, no need to be shy.” His long, slender fingers gently pry her hands away so he can meet her gaze. “So, what did you say?”

The question has her freezing, mind stopping and restarting. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What did you say?” he asks again, somewhat impatiently. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“What?” she splutters, “I said no, of course! I’m with you, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Strangely enough, I had,” he says, drily. “I would be more than happy to let you have as much Halsin as you want, you know. Don’t stop yourself on my account.”

Something in the air has changed, she thinks, his fingers still wrapped around her wrists as her hands hang between them. His face is open, and she doesn’t think he’s lying, but -

“If I’m understanding you correctly,” she tells him, slowly, “you don’t mind if Halsin and I have a tumble.”

She thinks annoyance flashes across his face before he can smooth it out again, but his voice is still even as he answers, “Far be it from me to deny you such pleasures. I would just, that is…”

The silence stretches long enough that she feels comfortable breaking it. Shifting so she’s closer to him, she prods him, “Yes?”

“It’s not because, you know, we haven’t, in a while?”

And there it is, the missing piece she was searching for. He’s worried.

She sighs, and gently tugs her hands out of his grip. His expression only shifts to concern for a moment before she slides into his lap, pushing him more securely onto his bottom so she can wrap her legs around his waist without fear of knocking him off-balance. “Astarion,” she murmurs, into his collarbone, “my silly goose.”

He’s somewhat stiff in her hold, but he hesitatingly brings his arms around her. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to be insulted, my love. Perhaps you can explain.”

Pressing a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw, she leans back far enough to meet his eyes, those wonderfully dark eyes that she wants to sink and drown in. “It’s a term of endearment, you silly man. I think there’s been some confusion here.”

Some of the worry leaves his face, but not all. “Pray tell, then, what the confusion is, for I admit to being lost.”

“I don’t want Halsin. I was flattered by his offer, in all honesty, but I don’t want him. I want you.”

His brow wrinkles. “You would still have me.”

“I’m a selfish creature, at heart, you know. For all of the grief and whinging you gave me about wanting to help people, there are certain things I cannot share. You are one of them.”

“But Halsin wasn’t asking about me he was asking -”

It's crude, but she doesn't know how else to get through to him, so she risks saying, “And you’re telling me that you would be completely fine with his hands on my skin? His mouth on me? His fingers and cock inside of me?”

A shudder passes through him that has her clutching him tightly. Caught out in his half-lie, he buries his face in her hair, finally squeezing her back. They’re quiet for a moment, and she strokes his curls the way she knows he likes, waiting for him, always waiting for him to be ready. She would wait forever if it meant waiting like this, wrapped up in him.

“No,” he finally says, voice rough, “no, I couldn’t stand it. But I don’t want you to regret being with me when I can’t, that is, I’m not capable of giving you all you need. If someone else is willing -”

“You are all I need, my love.” She smiles up at him, willing him to see the truth in her eyes. “It’s true, I miss being close to you, skin-to-skin with nothing separating us. But that ache is nothing compared to the joy and happiness I gain holding you through the night, holding your hand when we think nobody is watching, or even if they are. The kisses you greet me with and send me off with, our conversations, the way I can just be around you. That’s what I need. What I don’t need is someone else’s arms to help me find pleasure I’m perfectly capable of finding on my own.”

“You,” his voice is emotional, and he has to clear his throat before continuing, “you really mean that, don’t you?”

“When we agreed that this would be real, whatever it is between us, we agreed we would be honest, truly honest. I know it’s difficult at times, but it’s necessary, for this to work. I need you to be honest with me about how you feel, so we can talk about it. I might just surprise you.”

“Oh, that I know for certain,” he murmurs, tipping her onto her back so he can press soft kisses to her face. “You are so full of them.”

She hums moving her face gently so he doesn’t miss a single inch, a wide smile stretching her lips. “So, no Halsin.”

“No Halsin,” he agrees, before leaning down and capturing her lips for a slow and dirty kiss. The way his tongue slips past hers, flicks at it, draws a moan out of her throat. The sound must satisfy him, because he leans back with a wicked grin. “Now, darling, I just have one more bone to pick with you.”

She snorts. “And what might that be?”

“You naughty little thing, pleasuring yourself without me. I want to hear all about it.”

It’s not really a joke, but it makes her laugh anyway, hands covering her face once more. “Astarion!”

“But maybe not tonight, hmm?” he continues, gently prying her hands away so she can see the hungry smile on his face. “After all, we are very close to having privacy again, with four walls, a roof…”

“A bed,” she finishes for him, but she has a worried frown on her face. “Whatever you want, my love. If you want to hear about my solitary adventures, I will be more than happy to share. As long as you’re comfortable.”

The smile sharpens. “Oh, my dear, I think a step like this is exactly what I want.”

Later, when they’re tucked into what’s become their bedroll, with her curled up on his chest after a few stolen kisses, all she can do is hope the Emperor has the good sense to leave her alone this night. She has a feeling her dreams will be full of Astarion, and she doesn’t want to be interrupted.

Or share.

[alizeh-tu-badi-mushkil-hai]

When someone asks me what scares me the most when I love someone, it makes me delve into a spiral of thoughts.

I have often wondered why, after every fight or misunderstanding, my mother would refuse to eat while my father would consume whatever he was served and even ask for dessert. Isn't that strange? I never contemplated whether my parents, who seemed deeply in love, truly were. It's a nightmare. Now I understand how caring and warm my mother was towards my father, eagerly waiting for their evening cup of tea and dinner until 4 o'clock in the morning. Yet my father never seemed to grasp the love she felt for him, or perhaps they never reciprocated their feelings for each other.

Now, as a 20-year-old adult, what scares me the most when I love someone is whether they will reciprocate my feelings. Will I ever be enough for them? Is my love so intense and genuine that they will truly understand it? After every fight with friends, family, or my significant other, I would go days without eating. It's difficult to express this feeling, but it's a hate that grips my throat, leaving me bawling my eyes out on the floor. I have developed a peculiar relationship with food. I eat not because I enjoy it, but because I know if I don't, I will fall ill and there will be no one to care for me in this house full of skeletons and acquaintances. Sometimes, I still go days without eating, forgetting to nourish myself, and it causes immense pain in my stomach. In those moments, even a sandwich from my college canteen can provide some solace.

Whenever someone asks me about my favorite food or what I enjoy eating, my mind goes blank. It reminds me of the days I endured brutal scolding and humiliation at the dinner table, when my weight caused hormonal and health issues that never seemed to find peace. I was diagnosed with B12 deficiency, thyroid problems, PCOD, and an anxiety disorder. I recall how my parents struggled to afford rice and water bills. I remember being 17 years old when I wrote in my diary that I wanted to eat pizza and drink cold coffee at a coffee shop. Sometimes, I read those words and wish I could tell that version of myself that I now have a little bit of money, enough to take myself on a solo date. However, I still find myself eating alone at home, in college, and at school. Sitting with others and sharing a meal feels foreign to me.

But on that day when my heart shattered because my love was not reciprocated, I despised myself for loving someone who didn't deserve even a fraction of me. I decided not to have dinner because I was drowning in an ocean of loneliness and self-hatred. My mom asked, "Do you want to have dinner? You didn't eat your breakfast and lunch today." After a 30-second pause, I replied, "Yes." I told her to give me whatever was available; I couldn't wait any longer. Eventually, my mother served me my favorite dishes: aam ras, puran poli, aamti, rice, and papad. I sat alone in the dark balcony with only a small study lamp. I broke a piece of puran poli, dipped it in aam ras, and stuffed it into my mouth. In that moment, a wave of intense emotions hit me, and I broke down in tears. I continued breaking pieces of puran poli and stuffing them into my mouth while weeping. I realized that I was stuffing food into my mouth but not truly eating as tears streamed down my face. I had convinced myself, just as my mother used to convince me to eat while I was engrossed in playing a jigsaw puzzle. I think she is still playing and searching for the missing pieces of her jigsaw puzzle, while her mother has given up, along with her appetite. But despite everything, I managed to finish my food and wiped away my tears, even though being kind to myself felt nearly impossible. I placed my plate in the basin, washed my hands, splashed some water on my face, and began contemplating.

Why do I love someone to such an extent that it consumes me, making it hard to breathe? Why do I allow people to consume my soul? Why do I deprive myself of food when I am sad? Why?

[takenbyheartstrings]

ONE BED

summary: Its the one bed trope, but you and peter don't like each other and the avengers are determined to change that, so they set you and peter up for what could be success or what could be failure.

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader.

warnings: angst (not really)???, fluff, swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, and finally SMUT.

authors note: sorry if this is a little cringworthy, it's 12am and i am tired.

Natasha walked into the kitchen of the Avengers Compound, heaving a large breath, letting out a sigh catching Tony, Bucky, Steve, Wanda and Bruce's attention.

"What was that for?" Steve questioned as he noticed Natasha's somewhat annoyed appearance.

She shrugs, "They hate each other, they hate each other and I wanna know why."

Bucky laughs, "Not this shit again."

"Yes this shit again, Y/n and Peter clearly like each other, but I don't know why they have it in for each other."

"Or maybe they just don't like each other, that's possible Nat." Bucky lets a little glare.

Tony's voice perks up, "Uhhhh, I don't know about that. They always catch second glances at each other, when the other's not looking. It's cute." Tony couldn't believe he was talking about two eighteen year olds, but you two clearly liked each other.

Bruce let out a hum, "How about, we force them into a situation where they can't escape each other. We have to go down to Washington in a few days for the new training facility, so it's the perfect cover anyway. Instead of bunking Peter with Sam and Bucky, maybe we can bunk him in with Y/n."

Natasha and Wanda nod, "That's not a totally bad idea," Wanda tries not to grin; she's seen the way the two of you pine over each other like lovesick puppies. It really was cute.

"So we're just gonna ignore the fact that this is against their will and they might hate each other more than before and you guys are willing to place on the fence based on a hunch." Bucky speaks rationally, "Besides, the kid scares easily, you'll just be taking away the fun from Sam and I."

Everyone in the room trades a glance and then looks back at him, "Yeah." They all spoke at once.

It was settled. This little side mission was happening.

You sighed as you made your way into the conference room, the mission in Washington was a big one for you - and for Peter. But you needed to be prepared for anything, but nothing could prepare you for the news you were about to hear.

"Alright, I've got our roommates for the trip ready." Tony stated as he started listing off names, you were confused as to why you weren't with Wanda like usual. "Okay and Y/N and Peter."

"WAIT WHAT?" You almost screamed standing up.

"I can't be that bad. Can I?" Peter's lip quirked into a smirk.

You rolled your eyes as they turned a shade of red at his annoyance, "Well you clearly can."

"Don't get all glitter eyes on me." Peter chuckles, as Bucky can't help but snicker, your head snaps toward him as he then backs off.

Steve puts a hand your arm and he beckons you to sit down. You do so trying to calm down.

"Hey look," Tony sighs, "Sorry kids, but that's just how it is. Two people per room and you guys just happened to be last pick."

Peter sighs, "Whatever, the sooner we get it over with the better." He rolls his eyes walking out of the room. You followed but before leaving, you used your powers to lift Tony's coffee cup and spill it on his lap.

"Real mature!" He calls after you.

"I'm eighteen, get over it!" You yelled back before going to your room and slamming the door behind you.

Everyone was right, you did have a crush on Peter. You really liked him. But you were also so jealous of him. You were jealous of his smarts, his looks. Practically everything about the boy.

So much so, that you fantasised about him. You touched yourself thinking about him - and so did he. You both liked each other, but it was so hard to admit it because you were both jealous of each other, for the same reasons. You honestly didn't know how you were going to get through the night with Peter in the same room as you. You didn't know if it was going to be a paradise or a nightmare.

The next night you got to the hotel, "All right guys, time to get settled in, we have a big day of training tomorrow. Go get rested, goodnight." He waves walking off with his key. Sam and Bucky take theirs, Bruce and Steve take theirs, Nat and Wanda take theirs and You and Peter are left standing there.

"Look I'm too tired to argue, so can we just... not?" You questioned Peter.

"That's fair," He gives an awkward smile, "Since you start them all," He mutters under his breath, quiet enough so that you don't hear it.

You both made it up to the room to be met with a sight, "Wow. One bed, like this could get any worse." You sighed.

"Really. Truely can't. I thought to myself 'Nothing's worse than having to share a room with you,' but now there's one bed and I'm not giving it up."

"Well neither am I, guess we'll share." You give a harsh glare. You set your duffle bag down next to the left side of the bed and grabbed your pyjamas and made your way to the bathroom, it was a pair of shorts and a tank top. You were so reluctant to wear a bra. But you were nervous considering that Peter was in the other room. You opted not to deciding it wasn't worth the pain.

You walked out of the bathroom and Peter met eyes with you, lingering over your body, he loved looking at every part of you, the way your nipples came through your shirt and how perfect your tits were. How perfect your thighs were. How beautiful you looked. He didn't say anything but the room was filled with a tense silence. Peter walked into the bathroom and changed, he walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pants. Your eyes made contact with his biceps, his abs. You never realised how strong Peter actually was, you always fantasised about him like this but your fantasy was now a reality. You swore you could feel yourself getting a little wet, just thinking about what Peter could do to you.

You sighed getting into the covers at Peter did the same, the two of you were lying back to back with a large chunk of space between the two of you. You let out a little sigh, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you had announced.

"Alright," Peter said timidly, letting you know he was awake.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, splashing yourself with cold water. You knew you shouldn't feel this way. Not now. Why now? Why when he was here? You splashed yourself in the face one last time before opening the door and you met Peter's eyes.

"Peter I-," You started.

"I like you." Peter said nonchalantly.

"I-I like you too."

It was quick, but finally Peter's lips landed on yours and never left. You were actually the one to deepen the kiss. You felt Peters tongue slide into your mouth in one swift movement. His hands trailed up your shirt as you were pinned against a wall, he could feel your tits get hard as a chill went down your spine from the touch of his cold hands. Breaking the kiss for a moment - he lifted your shirt over your head as he started trailing kisses down your neck, you let out a heavy moan. Peter smirked against the kisses, as he trailed further down your body, licking and sucking on your nipples, his tongue making circles around them.

"Fuck, Peter." You groaned softly as the two of you then moved to the bed, you could see a bulge in Peter's pants. You slid them down as you were met with his dick, a smirk took place on your face as he sat back against the headboard.

You decided to have your way with Peter, kissing and sucking on his tip. Until you finally placed your whole mouth around it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. You took your mouth off of it before wrapping your hand around it and slapping it onto your tongue. You could hear Peter groan heavily, "Fuck, Y/n, just like that." His words came out as hot flashes as you moved your hand up and down his dick, rubbing it.

You couldn't take it anymore, you wanted to feel Peter. You moved up to kiss him again, but before you could Peter looked at you, “Every time you made me angry I fantasised about the things I would do to you and now I finally get to do them," He smirked.

You couldn't say anything else, you just let the moment get a hold of you. You kissed him again and it was like you could feel the electricity sparking in the air between the two of you. His kisses were hungry and desperate and sweet. You were lucky to be in his arms tonight, you were lucky to be fucked by someone like him. Someone caring. Someone genuinely sweet. Even if you hadn't seen what that side of him was even like, you knew he was.

You felt your breath hitch against the air as Peter removed your shorts, and yet he could see the patch of wetness on your underwear. You swore you could hear him get hungry at the sight, Peter didn't say anything, but he removed the garment blocking him from all of you. You were naked in front of him and he was loving every minute of it. His tongue entered your pussy as he sucked and licked your clit, moving his tongue up and down your pussy. He was hungry for you and only you.

Peter finally looked up at you as you moaned softly, your back arching a little as he pleased you with his tongue, "Peter I want you, please." You said desperately.

"As you wish," Peter said huskily as he slid his dick into your wet hole and boy did that hit the spot. Sliding in and out of you, every single moan was like a godsend, like music to hears ears. You were shaking under him.

"Peter you can go rougher than that," You spoke through a strained moan and Peter could. Your bodies flowed together, the mattress moving underneath the two of you, slamming the headboard with every thrust. Each moan that came out of your mouth got higher and higher, letting Peter know you were almost at your edge. Peter continued to move in and out of you.

"Fuck Pete, I'm almost there," You whimpered softly, "Fuck!"

He smirked against you, pulling out his dick and replacing it with his mouth. His tongue moved in and out just like his whole body had and you finally reached your peak.

"FUCK PETE!" You moaned once more as your body finally relaxed.

You took a hold of Peter's dick and started rubbing it again, he moaned quietly, "Fuck, yeah, just like that, that's my girl." Peter murmured. You smirked before placing your mouth over his cock and moving your head up and down once more, wrapping your hand around it while you also moved your head.

"Fuck that's it, that's it." Peter groaned, "Fuck Y/n, I'm gonna cum." Peter said as you moved your head faster and faster, ready to take on his load and that's when you could finally feel it, the sticky, white liquid in your mouth as you let it dribble back onto his cock, before licking it off his tip and letting it fall again, tasting the excess that was left in your mouth.

You let yourself fall back next to Peter as you got back underneath the covers with him, your naked bodies lying together intertwined.

"You have no idea how much I've thought about doing that with you," You laughed quietly, "I always hated you because you're everything I'm not Peter, but I was too quick to judge. I was wrong, wrong about most of it, almost all of it."

"Me too, Y/n, me too. I always wanted to be like you, but I see now that we have our differences and that's okay, but now we can work on that. Together." Peter spoke.

"Does that mean," You smiled against his chest.

"Yeah, it does."

"Well in that case, I really liked it when you said I was your girl," You smiled up at him, "That was really hot."

The two of you ended up falling asleep, in each others arms, feeling nothing but happiness. The two of you knew now that there was no reason to hate each other. There was no reason you couldn't be with each other.

The next morning you slid on a training bra and tights, reading for the day of training Tony had told all of you to get rest for, "Well don't you look good." Peter said wrapping his arms around your waist placing a kiss on your lips.

"I could say the same for you," You said feeling the biceps that were exposed because of his muscle tee. You and Peter walked down to the lobby with his arm wrapped around you, the rest of the group looked at the two of you surprised.

"You two look cosy," Wanda smiled.

Bucky batted an eye for a moment surprised that the plan the group had set out actually worked, "Wow, yeah, you guys do, what happened?"

"Oh we just talked, and we just confessed our feelings and now we're together." Peter explained.

Natasha let a painful look shine through, "You sure you guys just talked, it's not like the walls are soundproof."

The two of you blushed, "I- we- you- heard- what?" You were flustered you didn't know what to say. Peter just stood there in shock.

The rest of the group laughed walking off, "C'mon guys, the facility is ready for us, might as well make the best of it," Tony chuckled walking off as the rest of you followed, Peter placing a kiss on your head as you did.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Caution: Slippery When Wet — Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Dabi just wanted to take a shower, and he didn’t care that you were in the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Orgasm denial. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Quirkplay. Unprotected sex. Praise. Creampie.

Word count: 3.6k

A sudden loud bang snapped you out of your steam-induced daydream and had your heart skip a few beats in distress.

“What?!” you gnarled, eyes gazing through the foggy shower door only to be met with a pair of turquoise eyes.

Dabi.

“You done in there or what?”

Panic filled your entire body at once. “Get the fuck out!”

Any indication that you might be blessed with a peaceful shower session soon flew out the window as the young villain showed no intention of budging.

Thoughts on Dabi? You’d rather not have any. And not because you loathed him. Far from that Your body made sure that the most hostile emotion you had towards him was unquestionable sexual tension. Therefore, you really, really needed to train your mind not to fixate on him or the possibilities that might come from any interaction with him. In order to cope with this, you tried your best to mask your genuine feelings with resentment.

On the off chance your paths crossed while living together with the rest of the league, you always had your mind set on antagonizing him. You dreaded the possibility of anyone figuring out that — albeit buried deep within you —, you craved him.

“Not happening. I need a shower.”

Sliding the glass door, you peaked your head through the narrow slit only to be met with Dabi covered in... slime? From his dark hair all the way down to his boots.

“What is that awful smell?” you grimaced as the foul stench filled your nose.

“Collateral damage,” he said with a blank expression, eyes on yours. “You can thank Toga for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go wait outside. I’m almost done here.”

No answer.

“Out!” Yyou half-yelled, feeling heat creep through your cheeks, thoroughly glad that the fog glazing the shower door kept most of your body hidden from his gaze.

No answer yet again.

“Dabi!”

He shrugged and proceeded to remove his knee-length coat showing no concern that you were intensely staring at him, mouth agape in shock.

His filthy shirt went off next, revealing the uneven edges of his staple-covered skin across his upper chest. Your heart was racing at double speed and all your brain could conjure was that you most definitely should not allow your eyes to roam across his body like that. Dabi was too fucking hot — pun fully intended— for his own good, and suspected he knew that

That proved to be enough to snap you out of your trance. “Why are you taking your clothes off?!” Yyou blurted out, failing to realize how ridiculous that sounded given the context.

Dabi paused briefly as he was about to undo his belt. “Not showering with my clothes on... the fuck?” he remarked, arching a brow and glaring at you like you’d grown a third arm.

Panic hit you instantly. “Uh—Just wait!”

His slender fingers unbuckled the belt swiftly. “Doll, you’re wasting time. All that rambling and staring... could be done already.”

He was not wrong.

It suddenly dawned on you how easily he’d always manage to crawl under your skin. Whether he knew the effect he had on you or not, it remained unclear. But something inside you clung to the idea that, whatever it was that you felt for Dabi, it was somehow reciprocated.

Patches of suds began trailing down your temples and forehead, causing further distress.

“Just...” your voice trailed off, but sudden outrage burst from within you. “Don’t you have some decency?”

“No.”

He had managed to strip all of his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear, and he was about to—

“No! No fucking way!” you shrieked in dread, quickly having to wipe a few suds that were stinging your eyes. “Leave it—“

But before you could mouth further protests, you saw him yank his underwear down, which caused your eyes to reflexively close tightly.

A low chuckle was heard. “Calm down, princess. I won’t even look. Just wanna rinse off this slime.”

You were positively mortified from all this mess, and a large part of you cheered in pride as you managed to kept your feelings towards him out of the way.

For now, at least.

Immediately, you withdrew your head from the rack, and shoved the shower door shut, with one hand keeping it in place while the other reached out to grab a bottle from the corner shelf.

Dabi tugged at the door a few times before sighing. “Seriously? You gonna throw a... bottle of shampoo at me?” he drawled out, a slight hint of amusement taintIng his voice. “Terrifying. I can see why Shigaraki scouted you,” he added in blatant mockery.

The sudden confrontation had you wish some random hole in the ground would prop open and swallow you whole, effectively putting an end to this.

Your eyes flew open at once and you glared at the bottle in your hand that read: ‘Strawberry passion — let your senses be filled with bliss and calmness’. Now that was fucking ironic.

Another tug.

“Don’t make me burn this shit down.”

You scoffed. “You keep your eyes fucking shut, then. Not even a peak.”

“Sure, doll.”

Admitting defeat, you scooted to the corner of the stall, your back facing him as you heard the door slide open. You felt him brush past you, but managed to keep your composure. There was no point in stressing about this. Dabi was merely your... colleague? Coworker? Fellow... villain? It came with the territory, right?

You grasped the shower head and raised your arm to have warm water pour down on you. For a brief moment, you were able to ignore the man behind you, and just kept on rinsing as fat as you could to terminate this awkward situation.

Just a few more seconds...

But, of course, life seldom went as planned.

“Sharing is caring, doll,” his low voice rumbled, and you felt his breath fanning the nape of your neck, causing you to jolt.

The sudden proximity sent your brain into overdrive. Every single hair in your body stirred as goosebumps spread from the shiver running down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hand wrap around yours.

You tried to muster a few words, but the overwhelming sensation of having someone you felt so attracted to being so close to you, definitely proved to be a harder task than you’d imagined.

“Eyes shut...” you managed to mumble as a reminder, feeling the curtain of water shift to your back and ultimately leaving your body entirely.

Dabi let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck... this feels good.”

His choice of words had heat spread across you like wildfire. Unfortunately, the sudden loss of a heat source had your body quivering in an attempt to keep your temperature from dropping. You wrapped your arms across your chest out of reflex, but it did little to help.

That din’t go unnoticed by the young villain. “You cold?”

“Ju-just... hurry up...” you said between teetering teeth.

Silence fell between you two before you heard vague splashes of water. “I can warm you up.”

He was close to you once more. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his hot breath near your ear, and something else nudging at your backside.

Your head turned to glare at his half-hooded eyes. “No, thank you...”

His lips were dangerously close to yours, and from that angle you could see the way the metallic hoops on each side of his face strained but a little when he drew a faint grin.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

That gave you a whiplash.

As soon a those words left his mouth, you gasped in confusion. “What?!”

But there was nothing to be confused about. It was a rhetorical question from him. You were suddenly aware that he knew. That he had been able to read your signs all along.

Dabi placed the shower head back in its holder, pressing his back fully against yours in the process.

That’s when you felt all of him.

From the hardened nipples to the cool edges of his staples, and all the way to his hard cock pressed against your ass. You shuddered under his touch, causing it to settle right in between your ass cheeks.

“Dabi...”

He bucked his hips lightly, his slippery cock gliding with ease as a deep growl ripped from him. Haziness swarmed your mind, and you pressed both hands on the cold tiles for support, welcoming the water that poured on you from the shower head.

“Say my name again...”

“Why...” you mewled back, swaying your hips sensually against him.

What the fuck...

This was probably a bad idea. You weren’t even sure how you allowed things escalate this quickly. Dabi could snap anyone in half if he felt like it; he could also incinerate anything just as easily. You supposed the dangers of meddling with someone this volatile added to the allure.

And he was aware of that fact.

He fed on it and used it to get you to surrender yourself to him.

“Say it,” he repeated his request, bringing both hands to grasp your hips.

Your eyes snapped open once he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I hate you.”

You mentally slapped yourself for being so weak. Those words carried no weight whatsoever, and they only served to heave a taunting chuckle from him. Even though this entire situation had your face burning with heat, the rest of your body still struggled to keep your temperature up, causing you to shiver from time to time.

Dabi excelled at reading body language like no other. He took pride in being able to know someone’s true intention just from the way their body reacted to his presence. He was no stranger to the inner workings of women when it came to him; he knew precisely which strings to tug in order to get them to crave his touch.

You were no different.

In fact, you had completely and miserably failed at keeping your thirst for him at bay.

And with unprecedented expertise, Dabi had your body to bend to his will, granting you one of your deepest desires.

You felt his palms heat up against your skin.

“I... hate you...” your voice came out in a weak tremble.

Were you trying to convince him, or yourself?

His hands began sliding up your sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You realized you were no longer quivering from loss of warmth; your shudders were stemmed from the way Dabi was slowly and carefully feeling you up. His heated hands moved to your breasts, and without any notice, he had both your nipples being rolled in between his fingers.

Instinctively, you bucked against him. “Fuck...”

Dabi let out a hiss in response. “Sure you hate me?”

He pinched your nipples lightly before grazing his staple-covered palms along the sensitive buds.

“Yes,” you blurted out firmly.

The metallic hoops spread across his palms teased you further.

But before your throbbing clit could welcome the new stimulus, he halted and the heat pooling on his fingertips quickly died down. “So you want me to stop.”

“No!” you protested as his hands abandoned your skin.

“Then what?” Dabi inquired, bringing one finger to trail down your spine, prompting your back to arch downwards and your ass to spring up invitingly. “All these mixed signals... tss.”

You managed to suppress a moan when you felt his slippery cock slide down to tease your entrance.

“Dabi...” you let out, trying to find a few words to say. “Eyes shut.”

He chuckled. “Doll... I have my cock pressed against your ass and leaking for you... does that even matter?”

Of course not. You weren’t even sure why you had said that... your mind was playing tricks on you.

Even so, you weren’t so lucky the second time around, and when he slapped your swollen clit with the tip, your mouth fell open in a strangled cry. You highly doubted the slick tiles would be able to support your body as he proceeded to place his cock in between your damp folds.

“Hold on tight, doll. I need to prep you for my cock first,” his voice dripped with lust. “Be a good girl and bend over.”

Your pussy clenched impulsively.

To say you were completely and ridiculously turned on was the understatement of the year. No amount of rationality would help you now. You were too far gone, and your desire for him clouded any shred of judgement in you.

There was no point in resisting him any longer.

You strongly held on to the shower faucet, in the hopes of it being enough to keep your knees from giving out on you from the overwhelming pleasure spreading across your clit.

He kept sliding his thick cock along your pussy lips coating it in your wetness. It was faintly embarrassing to think of how quickly you’d gotten soaked for him, but on the other hand, you couldn’t really blame yourself for it. Dabi was definitely a natural. You figured he had enough experience to get you all riled up in no time.

You felt him snake one arm around you as his hand travelled down to your pussy. In all honesty, you felt too empty. Even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you had felt it and you craved it more than his fingers at this point.

The palm of his hand brushed against your clit, earning an instant moan from him.

“Dabi... just... fuck me...” you panted in between groans as he teased you with the staples carved into his skin.

Those staples had long caught your attention, but you never thought in a million years that you’d find pleasure in having them brush against your most intimate parts.

His velvety voice came out in a low purr. “Patience... I need you soaked enough to take my cock.”

“I am!” you half-yelled, bucking your hips in an attempt to have his cock placed at your entrance.

The hand teasing your clit stopped abruptly. “Really? Lemme check, then,” just as soon as he whispered those words, he pulled back from you momentarily, pressed one hand on your lower back to have you at a desired angle, before shoving two long fingers inside your wet cunt.

It took all of you to hold back a guttural groan from echoing throughout the bathroom. You bit down on your lower lip, an you reckoned it wouldn’t take long to draw blood. He held you firmly in place with his free hand gripping your hip while he fucked you with his fingers.

“You’re not just soaked... you’re fucking drenched,” he said in bewilderment, curling his digits inside you. “Think you can take a third one?”

You felt another fingertip prodding at your entrance, but you could only nod. There was no way you were going to open your damn mouth. The implications of doing so were far too severe, and you dreaded the idea of anyone outside being able to hear you moan for Dabi.

His third finger struggled at first to join the others. “Tight... just part your legs, doll...”

Doing as he instructed, he finally managed to get the slender digit to slide all the way in, until he was buried in you knuckle-deep. You’d never felt this stretched out before, and the newfound sensation was enough to finally have you let go of your lip and have your mouth fall open in a sigh of pure bliss.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he praised you, while finger-fucking you at a steady rhythm. “You’re literally milking my fingers...”

From the way his voice was starting to emerge fully strained, you figured this was also taking a toll on him. Having your walls involuntarily clench around his moving fingers and hearing him occasionally growl from it, had your ego soar dangerously high. Your entire body was urging you to cum, and as despair overcame your senses, you hand one han settle between your legs to rub your needy clit.

Dabi suddenly stopped thrusting his fingers, and clicked his tongue. “Stop.”

Annoyance hit you hard from the loss of his stimulation. “Fuck!”

His hand grabbed yours. “Let me make you cum. Just me.”

As soon as your gripped the faucet again with both hands, Dabi jumpstarted his ministrations in order to help you reach your much desired high.

“Say my name.”

You truly didn’t want to do that. The fear of losing control and having your moans being heard, kept you from heeding his request once again.

But Dabi had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Both his index and middle fingers pressed against your clit, and you felt the fingertips starting to heat up. He was definitely using his quirk in order to help the heat in your lower belly to intensify. It was a neat trick coming from him, and it was most welcome as you felt the familiar coil of an upcoming orgasm build inside you with each passing second.

“Say. It.”

Obscene soppy sounds left your tight pussy as he showed no signs of faltering his pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open as you tightened around him, preparing to let a peak of pleasure wash over your body.

“Fuck... fu-fuck... I...” you mumbled incoherently, not able to muster any comprehensible thoughts.

You were so close.

Your hips jolted into his hand, and just as you were about to cum, you felt sudden emptiness and were left clenching around nothing nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You cried out indignantly. “Why?!”

The high inside your suddenly plummeted back to the ground, leaving you on the verge of tears.

Dabi gave your ass cheek a light smack. “Told you to say my name.”

You turned your head to give him a death glare. “Fuck you!”

He pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Besides, I want you milking my cock.”

With one hard thrust, he pushed himself halfway inside you, unable to hold back a satisfied growl. Right then you understood exactly why he insisted on preparing you for him. He was definitely thicker and bigger than average. The sudden discomfort had you clench tightly around him in reflex, preventing him from going balls deep at once.

“Stop... fuck... stop being so fucking tight....” Dabi growled, stilling inside you. “Relax, doll...”

Your took a few deep breaths as your pussy adjusted to his unexpected size. He placed his hands on your hips, brushing his thumbs in circles across your flushed skin. It was most likely Dabi’s own way of offering comfort.

You weren’t sure how many seconds passed, but you were genuinely grateful he was waiting for you to finally loosen up and allowed his cock to finally slide all the way in.

A sudden gasp emerged from within you as his fingers gripped your hips vigorously, guiding you along his length. He started out slowly, but his self-restraint wasn’t enough to keep him from thrusting faster and deeper into you. The pace he set resembled that of someone on the edge of losing their sanity.

“You really wanna make me cum fast with that tight pussy of yours...”

His words were like fuel to the fire that once more threatened to get out of control soon enough. Your hands desperately grasped the faucet as pleasure overwhelmed you. A few more thrusts had your thighs starting to quiver.

Dabi had his fingers on your clit once again, determined to deliver all the pleasure he could possibly provide.

“Dabi... Dabi!”

His hips faltered for a split second. “Fuck... such a good and tight girl...”

You could hardly breathe once he set a new rhythm, which nearly had your face getting pressed against your hands from the brutal force.

“Dabi...” you mewled, feeling droplets of water mix with your own saliva as strings of spit hung from the corners of your mouth. You were officially drooling for this man.

In no time, your vision started to tunnel as you were thrown into the pinnacle of sheer bliss. Your mind went blank for a brief moment, with his name coming out in broken moans. The ecstatic orgasm had your pussy ripple and squeeze around his cock mercilessly as you kept rocking your hips against his desperate to ride out your high for as long as possible.

“Fuck this...” you heard him mumble at one point, his groans overcame your own. “Fuck!”

His own release was nearing, that much was certain. He was pounding into you hard and fast, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it, driving the breath from your lungs.

You had long descended from your orgasm, but you were still left to deal with the overstimulation from his cock sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

Tears soon prickled the corners of your eyes. “Oh my... god... enough.... Dabi...”

He responded by rubbing your clit harder in unison with his thrusts.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

His long drawn out groan let you know he had finally reached his peak. Your own knees began to tremble from having to hold your body in that position for so long, but he made sure you weren’t going anywhere. With a few pumps of his hips in a broken rhythm, you felt hot sprays of cum shoot inside your pussy.

He slapped your ass cheek once he was done, enjoying the sight of your pussy still tightly wrapped around him.

“What a pretty pussy....”

Your heart was still racing and your breath coming out uneven.

In one swift motion, he fully slid from inside you, and you immediately felt his cum drip as your walls contracted. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then we can take a proper shower.”

You were fairly certain you might regret what just happened later on, but for now, you chose to brush that aside.

Dabi wasn’t someone easy to read.

He most definitely wasn’t someone easy to get.

For the time being, you’d relish on the fact that you had made him cum. Probably not something curriculum worthy, but it was good for you and your ego.

-

Masterlist

[hhjs]

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary  —   Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

 You accept it. 

 For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

 Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all. 

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour.  Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe.  While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him. 

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell. 

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

 Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose.  You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger  stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

 You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night.  See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart. 

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.”  he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

 “I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

 Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've  passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side. 

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous. 

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it. 

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say. 

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

— 

Kiss underneath a mistletoe. 

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right. 

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different.  Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

  Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

 He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

— 

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh.  Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

 Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you?  "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."  

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know.  Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

— 

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of  honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear,   "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

[bratkook]

eleven months. (m) myg. one.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: none this chapter. word count: 2.8k author’s note: this chapter is on the shorter side, just diving into them meeting and giving you all a small glimpse into them as individuals! im really excited for this story so let me know what you think, feel free to scream about anything in my inbox bye ily lmao summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

Yoongi loves the rain, really he does. The way the clouds gloom over the city, encompassing it in this darkness that reminds him of underexposed film. He wishes he could always see the world through this filter, always smell the scent of wet soil and tarmac as he makes his way through the streets. Something about hearing the soft patter hitting the sidewalk, bouncing off the rooftops and dripping from the gutters calms him. A soft smile spreads across his face as he exhales the smoke in his lungs, letting the stick hang loosely off his lips while his hands clutch onto his umbrella.

When he stomps his foot into a wide puddle, the cold water splashes up onto his ankle and he grimaces. He hates being caught in the middle of rain. It didn’t matter if he had his umbrella or not, or if he managed to bundle enough for the downpour, he hates stepping into puddles and getting his socks wet. Hates how some of the raindrops that slipped under his umbrella—since it was now raining sideways—have managed to make his cigarette slightly soggy.

Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth this time, he holds it in front of his face with a frown. It was halfway done but no longer burning properly due to how wet it had become. 

What a waste.

As he passes a trash can, he stubs it out fully and tosses it inside, a small pout on his face at the loss of something to fidget with. But then he sees the glowing sign inching closer, the bright neon yellow standing out in the grim weather. The illuminated Rkive360 in the distance stops him from slipping out another smoke, choosing to stuff his unoccupied hand into the pocket of his jeans, moving his legs a little faster to get to his destination.

The bell at the top of the door jingles as he stumbles in, his foot tripping over the small lip of the mat by the door. That was a safety hazard he’d playfully bitch to Namjoon about later. 

“Yoongi, hey!” When he balances out, closing his umbrella and giving it a good shake by the door, he looks up and grins at Taehyung. He spots him standing by a flat spread of clothes a few feet away, folding out some new items as he stares at Yoongi with a genuine smile. His curls flop over his eyes and Yoongi chuckles to himself as he wonders how a guy like him was here folding shirts when he should probably be the face of Gucci or something. 

Well, that’s life. 

“Hey man,” Yoongi mumbles out, his eyes catching the plastic bin beside the door that’s labeled ‘umbrellas here’ in a messy scribble he can only attribute to Taehyung. Not needing to be told twice, he sticks his dripping umbrella upside down into it and shuffles inside the shop, taking a minute to look around like he always did. 

Record stores have always been his safe space, even as a teenager. The amount of time spent in one after school, loitering inside with his friends as he sorted through the racks of CDs and vinyl, exiting with his bag of new goodies that left him excited to get home and play them. It was god sent that his best friend decided to open up his own place years ago, keeping it fully stocked with anything he could imagine. Maybe Yoongi was a little biased, but this was definitely the best shop in the country. 

It’s a welcoming place, pops of color in every corner, tall standing sculptures mixed in with displays of music, autographed albums and posters framed onto the wall behind the counter. It’s the full embodiment of his best friend, down to the tiny KAWS figurines perched beside the register and the music playing through the speakers. The small melody in the background fills his ears once the door is shut, recognizing the song playing as Dang! by Mac Miller and he bobs along as he approaches Taehyung.

“Quick question,” he starts, his hands coming up to shake at his gray hair that was slightly damp from the rain. Taehyung sets the shirt down, resting both of his palms on the table as he leans towards Yoongi with interest. “Any chance you guys miraculously got Seventeen Seconds in your stock this week?”

Taehyung hums in thought, his brows furrowing together as he tries to mentally sort through the massive boxes of new vinyl Namjoon had brought in a few days ago. New shipment comes once a week but every now and then Namjoon goes out of his way to find specific records, never missing with his selection. 

A small flash of blurry trees crosses his mind and then he's smiling at him. “Yeah, we actually got it the other day. Pretty sure Namjoon hunted it down for you since you’ve been asking. It should be in the back.” His thumb points behind him, towards the display tables that held all the LP’s available at the store, a very familiar spot. 

Yoongi mumbles out a thanks as he makes his way over, eyes already locked onto the bin that he knew would hold his prized possession. It’s not until he gets a few feet closer that he sees your crouched frame over a box, figure slightly hidden by a giant CD rack. You’re rummaging through the records, almost making him flinch when you quickly stand back up and find their proper spot in the display. You don’t notice him approaching until he’s right beside you, eyes once again glued to the bins lined in alphabetical order once the initial shock of another person subsided.

That’s when you give him a glance, sending him a soft smile as you slip the record in its rightful spot, crouching back down to grab the next bunch. His hand pauses on the edge of the bin at the glimpse of something familiar, momentarily distracted by your shirt. When you stand back up, feeling him staring at you, you slowly turn to face him once more with your eyebrows raised up in question.

He takes note of the tag clipped to your shirt, it reads Sana but he’s used to dealing with Sana and you are definitely not her. You’re new.

The smile remains on your lips as you rest your hip against the edge of the table holding up the record bins, preparing to put your best customer service voice to use. His eyes glance at the writing on your shirt again, cracking a grin when he confirms it's a New Order shirt tucked into your black jeans. “You like New Order?”

Your smile falters slightly, your arms crossing in front of you as you narrow your eyes at him in defense, not entirely sure how to take his tone. “If you’re about to ask me to name five of their songs I’ll have to walk away to avoid getting fired.”

His smile widens at that, soft and gummy, breaking his cold appearance as his arms raise up in front of him in surrender. “No, just an observation.”

Your demeanor softens again, your arms sagging back down to your sides and smiling once more. “Good, it's my first day on the job and I’d really like to keep it.”

Yoongi chuckles softly, going back to his searching for his precious album, leaning over the third bin dedicated to bands starting with the letter C. His nimble fingers flip through the LPs until he gets to the Cure, sorting through Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, passing Pornography until he reaches Wish and his brows furrow, flicking back and forth as if the album he wanted would magically appear.

“Need help finding something?” You speak up again when you take note of him sorting through the same chunk of vinyl. He grunts lightly, letting the stack slant back in a heap as he purses his lips.

“Yeah actually, Taehyung said you guys got the album Seventeen Seconds but I don’t see it.

You step back from reorganizing the bin labeled S, trying to remember if you had brought the record out or if it was still sitting in the second box ready to be unpacked. Your brain was already overwhelmed from all of the information you had been given on your first day, trying to unscramble the entire backroom and it’s countless boxes—most of which were unlabeled because Taehyung said it’s not necessary since he knows where everything is. 

Much like Taehyung, you recall seeing a flash of the album cover when you sorted through the new box of records, knowing exactly where it was tucked away since you had been the one to store it. You were under strict orders to not put it out on the floor, because according to Namjoon, if someone else took this album you’d be attending his funeral. 

“Oh, uh gimme a sec.” You shuffle away, leaving him behind as you approach Taehyung, still folding away. “Hey, Tae?”

He hums in question, turning to stare at you with a small smile. “Whats up?”

“That guy is asking for Seventeen Seconds but Namjoon told me he’d be murdered if I gave this out to anyone.”

Taehyung starts laughing instantly, setting the shirt down as he stares at a confused looking Yoongi still standing by the LP’s. “Yeah, he was saving it for him specifically.”

“Got it, okay. Thanks.” You make a beeline back to the tables at the back, passing Yoongi with a polite smile. “Be right back!” you exclaim, wagging your finger at him as you make your way towards the back room, clearly on a mission.

Yoongi just stands there as you enter the employee stock room, not trying to cross any professional lines and follow you since you have no idea who he is. It's only a few feet away and you left the door propped open so when a few minutes pass and he hears rustling, followed by a heavy sounding thud and some curse words, he can’t help but wander over and peak his head in.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face when he sees the way you’re frozen, one foot on the ledge of the shelf and the other on a not so sturdy looking stool, caught in the act of a poorly made decision. Below you lay two brown boxes that carry shirts you’re meant to unpack later, definitely the cause of the loud thud he had heard.

“Yep,” you confirm as you pluck out the record you need, shoving the box back into its safe spot and hopping down haphazardly. “Here you go.”

Grabbing the record carefully, he flips it over to skim the track list and smiles widely when he looks back up at you. That familiar warmth fills his chest as he holds the new item, making him feel the same way he had as a teenager when he bought his first LP. He had been searching for this vinyl for months now. It wasn’t as if it was no longer in production, he just couldn’t seem to find it in stock anywhere he looked and buying it internationally was the last resort he would take since the shipping fees were downright illegal. “Thanks.”

You’re already hunched down on the floor as you open up one of the boxes that had fallen in your haste to scale the shelves, deciding to just unpack in now since you were here. 

“Yeah, no problem. Tae can ring you up at the front.” Sending him off with a smile and a wave, he takes that as his cue to exit, making his way to the front again. 

When he leaves the backroom you flop onto your butt with a huff, your legs sprawling out with the second box in between them. You were hoping your words didn’t come across as rude to him but you couldn’t take the way his sharp eyes stared at you. Had he lingered any longer you would have embarrassed yourself, it was a miracle your footing hadn’t slipped on your way down from the shelves. You can’t imagine your ego being able to recover from a tumble like that. 

Taehyung spots Yoongi leaning against the front counter, setting the final shirt down and going to stand behind it with a smile. “Did you find everything okay?” he asks automatically, the general phrases they had to use coming out without a thought and Yoongi scoffs, sliding the record across the counter and nodding.

“Of course I did, you let Namjoon know that I said your customer service is unmatched.” His finger gently rubs against the first black KAWS figurine, smiling at the remaining four as he remembers how Namjoon had excitedly told him that this was their friend group, representing them all perfectly. 

Taehyung grins with a roll of his eyes, scanning the album and slipping it into the brown paper bag they provided. “Wonderful. Your total is 40,000 won.”

“Wow, your customer service voice is phenomenal.”

Taehyung laughs now, his nose crinkling up at Yoongi's sarcastic tone, watching how Yoongi grins back at him, succeeding in getting him to crack. “Fuck you, man.”

“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi hums with a chuckle as he pulls out his wallet, sorting through his bills and handing them to Taehyung. “Who’s New Order girl?”

Tae raises his brows as he enters the amount into the POS, the drawer popping open against his hips. “Oh, Y/N?” Yoongi only shrugs, you had Sana’s name tag on so how the hell should he know.

Taehyung stuffs the money into the drawer and slams it shut, ripping off the receipt from the machine and slipping it into the bag. “She just started today, can’t remember where she moved from, some place far though.” He shrugs as he hands the bag over to Yoongi.

The older boy ruffles his damp hair up, accepting the bag with his right hand. “Oh, cool. Well thanks, I’ll see you guys later then?” Taehyung just waves him off with a smile, similar to the way you did and he laughs to himself when he realizes Taehyung must be the one in charge of training you.

As he approaches the front door he pulls out his pack of cigarettes once more, sliding one out and slipping it between his lips. He finds himself looking towards the back of the shop again, seeing you resuming your organization, but your head lifts up as you feel him staring at you from his spot at the door. The spark of his lighter flashes across his face when he lights up his smoke, opening his umbrella once more now that he's partially outside. When your eyes meet, he smiles around the stick, giving you a nod before turning and walking back out into the rain.

You watch as his figure disappears down the street, his dark silhouette blending in with the rest of the people roaming the city, and when you can no longer see him through the store window you turn towards Taehyung. He’s stood at the POS, fidgeting with the screen, but when you call his name he glances up at you. “Is he a regular?”

He nods in response, eyes going back to stare at the screen as he begins to print out a sheet to fulfill the online orders the store received. “Yeah, he comes in at least once a week. Buys strictly vinyl. I think Namjoon mentioned he’s a music producer, or maybe it was a DJ, I can’t remember.”

Taehyung evidently doesn’t have the best memory, that much had been made clear in the short span you’ve known him. He had forgotten your name twice during your interview, Namjoon having to subtly repeat it for him, he had also asked you three times where you were from and at first you thought he was joking but when his face remained serious you realized he had really forgotten already.

“Hey, where’d you move from again?” he asks one more, genuinely curious as if you hadn’t told him a handful of times already. 

“I told you, Iceland.” It’s a lie, but when he hums in thought—pretending to suddenly remember—you chuckle at the newfound way to mess with him. 

He’s quick to start questioning you about Iceland, nodding along to the lies you spill while you both go back to your tasks of sorting albums and folding shirts. It makes your first full shift eventful, passing jokes back and forth as the sky grows gloomier. As distracting as your conversations get, you can’t help but glance up through the windows whenever a dark clad figure walks by, the thought of the sharp eyed stranger lingering in your mind. 

[bangtangalicious]

the glow up | pjm, kth (1)

pairing: jimin x reader, taehyung x reader ft. a splash of jungkook

summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure

genre: smut, angst drama childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au

word count: 3.5k

warnings: body image issues, car sex, road...riding(?), exhibitionist themes, groping, toxic behavior, lots of making out, dirty talk, boys being problematic, weight loss, slut-shaming, unprotected sex (disclaimer: everyone’s body is beautiful. there is no ideal weight or body type! you’re beautiful) 

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7                                                    masterlist

The sun rays filtered through your blinds, and as you felt the piercing heat on your skin you smiled. Summer was finally here. You had come back from college just a few days ago, and had yet to catch up with your old friends.

You were really excited this time. The past year, you and Jimin had made a pact to hold each other accountable and go to the gym. You were proud of your hard work, and the results showed.

You had always been the chubbier friend. Not to the point where anyone really noticed, but you did. Jimin would relate to you back in the day, as you both would get teased by his friends for his cheeks. Today was Jimin’s pool party, and you were expecting to make a grand entrance to show off your new body. Adrenaline rushed through your veins. Everyone would be unable to take their eyes off of you.

Taehyung had graciously offered to pick you up since he would be in the area to pick up the alcohol anyways. You saw from your window as his white convertible entered the parking lot. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, an oversized T covering the skin tight bikini underneath.

As Taehyung saw you emerge from the building, he pulled his arm back, gesturing you to sit next to him and smiled. He was always really sweet to you. You had known him just as long as Jimin even though you weren’t as close.

“Morning princess. It’s been a while”

You blushed and rolled your eyes. You made a point to show off your tones legs as you got into his car. You didn’t miss the way his eyes scanned your figure as the wind teased your curves under the baggy fabric.

“Hey Tae, damn it really has. I haven’t seen you since last year!” You twirled your finger in your hair absentmindedly. Taehyung kept one hand at the back of your shoulders as he began to drive. Something about the way he was driving had you squirming. He glanced over at you, and you good see the smirk in his eyes from behind his round glasses. He turned on the radio as he pressed down on the gas.

Next thing you know, you’re lowering yourself down onto his hard dick.

When did you end up getting into his lap and riding him as he drove? When did you get completely naked in his car and let his taste every inch of you? The details were a blur. But as you reached Jimin’s house, you were a sweating, breathless mess. Taehyung looked completely fine, as if nothing had happened. He waved to some others who were gathered around the entrance as he stopped the car then turned to you. His hand found your thigh, slowly caressing you as his fingers crept up, his thumb brushing over your wetness, still sensitive from the quick fuck you two shared just minutes before.

“You ready to go in?” He smiled genuinely, it was as if he had turned back into the Taehyung you knew from your childhood and not the boy who was whispering absolute filth into your ears about how many different ways he wanted to destroy you.

“Um, you go ahead, I just need to gather myself”

He nodded in understanding, pushing your hair behind your ears, gazing at you intensely before leaning to kiss you passionately, as if he had been craving you for years and couldn’t get enough. Your hands instantly cupped his face, reciprocating and rolling your body towards him, searching for something you knew you wouldn’t find. His lips were incredible. Soft and tight, teeth grazing over yours and tugging at you. You shifted to get even closer to him, allowing him to grab your waist. It was not the most comfortable position, but you were too lost in sensation to care.

“What the fuck”

As if someone threw a bucket of cold water on you, you yelped and jumped away from Taehyung, realizing how blatantly in public you two had been making out. You turned and saw the shocked and confused expression of your best friend.

“Jimin…hey”

You took in the sight of him. He looked hot. You had to blink to make sure you were even looking at the right person. His face had changed strikingly, his jaw sharp, angled, and neck toned. He also seemed to be trying to digest everything he was seeing.

Your mutual staring was interrupted by the sound of Taehyung getting out of the car, slamming the door shut. He came up to your side of the car, tilted your face up and kissed you one last time. You saw Jimin’s knees go week, and fury built in his eyes. Taehyung then playfully pat his back before leaving the two of you to go enjoy the party.

You had no idea what to say. You didn’t know if you should feel guilty. You technically didn’t do anything wrong. Jimin was simply gaping at you.

He finally cleared his throat, seemingly coming to some sort of compromise within himself. “Sorry, I was just…not expecting that.” He opened his arms as an invitation for you to get out of the car and hug him, which you did. You basked in his comforting scent.

“Missed you loser” You muttered. You heard him scoff as he let you go, his eyes flickering over you.

“So…” He backs away so that you two are still pressed against each other but he could see your face, “You and Tae?”

“No! It’s not like that I…”

He clenched his jaw, tilting his head.

“Did he fuck you y/n?”

You nodded. You felt his fists clench. You quickly grabbed his wrist before he turned around to go find Taehyung.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him that’s what”

He tried to shake you off but you wouldn’t budge. “Calm down. Hey. I wanted to Jimin, it was mutual” He shoved you back against Taehyung’s car, you almost tripped back over the door into the seat but you caught yourself.

“Why? Did you really put so much time and work on that body just to hand it off to the first person you get your hands on? Did you really go through all the hell these past few months, getting up early, sweating every day? All that work and you just toss it to him like it’s nothing? Now you’re acting like a complete whore? Don’t you have any self respect?”

You had seen Jimin angry before, but this was different. He looked dissapointed. You realized with a queasiness in your stomach that your best friend was looking at you in disgust. Judging you. You felt small suddenly, wishing you could rewind and take it all back, just arrive and have fun like you had originally planned.

“Let me see” He demanded. “Show me your body” You were incredibly confused, but did as he asked, lifting your shirt up and tossing it into Taehyung’s car. You observe as Jimin gulps, staying absolutely silent. If he likes what he sees, he makes no indication of it. He looks away.

“Wow. You…you’re hot” He says softly, his voice much kinder but he couldn’t meet your eyes. You swallowed nervously.

“So are you. I’m proud of us” You reached for his arm affectionately. “Jimin, I’m sorry if me fucking Taehyung made you feel uncomfortable, but come on I haven’t seen you in so long. I wanna enjoy today with you. Let’s just move on” Jimin finally looked back at you, sighing and nodding his head.

He led you to the pool. Taehyung was already in the water, playing volleyball with Jungkook and Hoseok. He smiled your way, pushing his wet hair back. You could feel Jimin’s eyes on you like a hawk as you smiled back. He got out of the pool and walked over to you. You couldn’t help but ogle at the way the water dripped down his bare chest.

“Y/n, you should come play with us” He offered sincerely. Jimin scoffed quite loudly, causing others to turn their heads as well. Taehyung ignored him, smiling towards you still.

“Y…yeah for sure. I’ll come in a bit”

“Aw come on, I can carry you, it’ll be fun” He wrapped his arms around your hips, allowing your legs to wrap around him. You giggled as he swung around and screamed as he threw you into the pool. Jungkook swam over and caught you in an embrace, his hand accidentally brushing the side of your breast.

“Hey y/n!” He said sweetly, “It’s great to see you! You look really good” You blushed as Jungkook let his hands travel up and down your back. Jimin was practically fuming. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed with the tie of your bikini, making you heat up inside. Seeing as you didn’t back away, he took it as invitation to advance even more. Making sure his back blocked any sight of what he was doing to you, he slid his hand under your flimsy bikini. He whispered into your ear “You like that?” You nodded, unable to hide the red flush on your cheek. He smirked and pulled you flush against him so you could feel his hard cock through his trunks. “Tell me how Tae fucked you y/n”

“I…”

“What did you do, hm?” His hands squeezed your inner thighs, spreading your legs out so he could push in more. “Did you give him road head? Did you ride his cock? In a convertible fuck just out in the open for everyone to see? Is that what you’re into huh? You like it when others watch?”

You nodded furiously, your core getting extremely hot with his words.

“What do you think? Want me to turn you around right here? Take you in front of everyone? Take you in front of Taehyung…in front of Jimin? Poor motherfucker would probably die with jealousy”

That statement didn’t sit well with you. Jimin? Jealous? You wiggled out of Jungkook’s grip, swimming away slightly.

“Why would he be jealous?” You asked. Jungkook laughed. Taehyung swam up to the two of you to see what was going on.

“Hyung, what do you think? If I fuck her in front of Jimin, how do you think he would react?”

Taehyung chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I know if I were him I would probably beat you up” He pulls you in towards him, kissing your cheek.

Was it true? Did Jimin want you? Is that why he was so upset? You shook your head. There was no way. If he liked you, he had so many opportunities to tell you, and you knew you wouldn’t have denied him. You guys were the closest that two people could be. You didn’t think of him in this way before, but you could definitely admit that he was extremely attractive.

Taehyung lifts you out of the pool. Water molds over you as you emerge from the water. He nibbles your ear “Jimin missed out, I feel kinda bad” He paused, “Actually I don’t. You were incredible” Jungkook whines.

“Lucky” He pouts. “I want her too”

You were lost in thought, still confused over the realization that your best friend might like you. You felt upset suddenly, wishing so badly you hadn’t fucked Taehyung, no matter how good it was. You couldn’t imagine how hurt he must have felt. Your friendship was hanging by a thread.

And these two just could not keep their hands off of you. You hated that you liked the attention. They hadn’t looked twice your way before, but Jimin was always there. Jimin always reminded you that you were beautiful no matter what. He supported you to do things for yourself, not because you needed to impress anyone else.

“Is this just because of my body? Is that why you two are acting like this?”

Taehyung gaped at you. You couldn’t tell if he was offended or guilty.

“God you make me sick” You pushed him away from you, getting up and running into the house.

You began to cry. Jimin was right. How could you have been such an idiot? You looked for a place to find privacy, but there were people everywhere. You shuddered at the thought of what you almost just did with Jungkook, shame overtaking you. You just let him touch you like that. You felt pathetic.

You found Jimin’s bedroom empty, shut the door and curled up on his bed, finally able to voice your sobs.

There was a light knock at the door. You froze.

“Y/n? Are you in here?” Your heart dropped at the sound of Jimin’s sweet voice. You couldn’t bear to face him now. You wished the floor would just swallow you whole. The door slowly opened and Jimin peered in. His eyes were full of concern as he located you, entering and closing the door behind him.

His heart wrenched as he saw your tears. He quickly made his way to you, sitting down by your side and wrapping his arms around you protectively.

“What’s wrong? Hey…” He stroked your face affectionately, “Sssh. You’re okay…you’re okay” His kindness just made you cry even harder, burying your face into his chest.

“I’m so sorry Jimin” You cried out, “I ruined everything. I’m such an idiot”

“What are you talking about? What do you have to be sorry for? I…I’m sorry about how I was acting earlier if that’s what made you upset”

You shook your head, “I didn’t know. I’m so stupid. Jimin, I just…I think I asked Taehyung to have sex with me because he was checking me out, and no one…no one just does that with me, so I got excited. And then I got here and…Jungkook and Taehyung kept”

Jimin growled, “What? Did they hurt you? What did they do?”

“No…no. They just…I liked that they were paying attention to me and…so I kept letting them do whatever they wanted. I’m such a whore”

Jimin cupped your face with his hands, leaning his face so that he could look straight into your eyes, trying to smile for you. “It happens baby”

“You were right. Everything you said was completely right…and the worst part is that…” Another sob escaped you. “I didn’t know…you…were interested in me like that”

Jimin let out a laugh, causing you to flinch in surprise. Had you misunderstood?

“You didn’t know I was interested in you? That’s why you’re crying?” He giggled. You pouted at him. He cooed at you affectionately, laying you down on the bed so he could hold you closer. “You’re so cute y/n”

Jimin kissed your lips tenderly. “It’s my fault” He whispered, “I didn’t have the balls to tell you before. I guess I just, was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way so. I know I’m not the best looking amongst our friends” You smacked him at this statement.

He was beautiful. He had always been beautiful to you. Inside and out.

“Jimin” You exhaled, voice trembling, rolling into him and finding his lips once more. “I would do anything for you. If you wanted to fuck me, all you had to do was ask”

Jimin pulled away. The both of you were breathing heavily. He shook his head, “I…I don’t…just want to fuck you” He sat up and brought you into his lap so you could straddle him. He brushed the hairs off your face, eyes gleaming with adoration. “You’re my best friend” You could see the overwhelming emotion overcoming him, “You’re…everything to me” Your heart was racing. You felt absolutely vulnerable in his arms, but at the same time you knew you were completely safe.

You kissed him, his hands slipping behind you to gently clutch your ass, pushing you closer to him. Your hips roll slightly, wanting to feel some sort of friction. You were both moaning helplessly into each other’s mouths, unable to breath. You reached your hand down towards his waistline but he stopped you, shaking his head.

“No…baby…not today”

You whined.

“You literally fucked one of my closest friends this morning y/n. I can’t exactly not think about the fact that his cum might literally be inside of you right now. In fact, I might need a while to get that thought out of me”

This was true. Thinking back to what was now a blur of events, reminders of the ethereal bliss you had felt, as you bounced yourself like a maniac on Taehyung’s big dick, hands clutching his pink hair, moaning at the top of your lungs as he zoomed down the highway, evidently speeding. It was the riskiest, most profane, dirty thing you had ever done. Anyone could see you, and you didn’t care one bit. You chased after your high as if nothing else even mattered. It was the best sex you ever had.

Your face flushed as you recalled how Taehyung had to pull over because he needed to touch you himself, laying you sprawled out on the head of his car, ravishing every inch of you.

“I can’t believe how good you feel” He groaned, “This is even better than in my dreams”

His words returning to you. How he looked like he was in heaven as he came inside your thick walls. The way his eyelids fluttered in bliss. “Oh my god princess, take my fucking cum” He sucked your tit harshly “I’m gonna fuck you up so good. You’re mine”

After he came how he had become so caring and gentle, but somehow till leaving you breathless. How he had kissed you all over your face softly, whispering sweet nothings. Like how beautiful you were, how much he had prayed for this day to come, how happy he was to see you, how bad he had missed you.

Wait.

“Taehyung…oh no” You couldn’t stop your remark as you realized what a big mistake you had made. Taehyung wasn’t messing with you. He was letting you live your wildest fantasies. He was everything you wanted. Someone insanely sexy, who would tease you, drive you crazy, and fuck you so well.

You were beyond confused, as you remained in the lap of someone you could never lose. Maybe Taehyung was just a fleeting moment. Jimin was secure. You knew he’d never hurt you. He’d love you right. He was a good guy. He deserved to get everything he wanted.

The more you thought about it, the more unsure you were. Someone was playing with you but you didn’t know who. Jimin sensed your unease.

“Baby” He let his nose graze against yours, “Y/n?”

The door swung open, making Jimin tighten his hold on you. Taehyung barged in, looking more serious than you had ever seen him. He paused to see what he had walking in on before shaking his head quickly.

“Look y/n. If you want Jimin that’s your choice and I respect and support that, but you have no right accusing me of being so shallow” He barked. “You act like today was the first time I looked at you like that when you know that’s not true. I always flirted with you. I always complimented you. I always made moves on you but you were so busy hating yourself to see that. I didn’t fucking care how you looked. You were such a great person to be around. I was always attracted to you. I accept a loss when I see one, but I’ll be damned if you walk away thinking so low of me” He was panting. Your eyes were wide with shock.

“I even” He laughed incredulously, “Just last year. I asked you if you wanted to leave Hobi’s party with me, and you just laughed in my face and said as if someone like you would get with someone like me and I said, wanna bet? and you just laughed and left it at that…god can you like not sit in his lap like that right now”

You obeyed, startled by his confession, standing up and backing away from both the boys.

“Okay Taehyung, I think she gets it. But it doesn’t matter anymore”

Taehyung scoffed, ignoring Jimin, “I just need you to know that I wasn’t just waiting around for you to get hot. It’s not that you lost weight and now we’re all looking at you, it’s just that now you actually notice because before you wouldn’t believe that anyone thought you were beautiful. And one more thing” He glares at Jimin “I would never belittle you for exploring your sexuality. We’re all allowed that. Just because we might have done it in high school and you’re doing it now doesn’t make you a whore.”

With that he slammed the door and went off.

next ———>

A/N: FIRST of all. There is so much toxic behavior in this. I want to make a point about how the “good boys” aren’t always the “good” boys. Jimin better step it up hehe. Next chapters are way more smut and a lot less plot ope. Um, again i’m new here so if you want to be tagged or something for updates lmk i guess lol 

[gotnofucks]

Master of His Own Fate-2

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, jealousy, spanking, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Probably gonna be a four-part series.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

+++++

Why did it feel like everyone had to do their shopping exactly when you had to? You’d bet it was not this crowed earlier. Or maybe it had something to do with the two super-soldiers flanking you that drew people in. You should have just ordered stuff online since this was super embarrassing. Steve’s hand was in the back pocket of your jeans and Bucky was on your other side, pushing the shopping cart with one hand while holding your waist with other. You’re sure you must have made quite a picture, a little woman sandwiched between them.

“Can you remove your hand?” You asked Steve under your breath and he looked away from the cereals he was perusing to glance at you.

“No” He answered and then pinched your ass for good measure. You jumped, your face flushing and you vowed to look at the floor until you left. You had no desire to see what other people thought about you.

“Why are they so colourful? Why can’t it be simple? There are too many!” Bucky exclaimed and you almost snorted. The cereal aisle was like wonderland for Bucky and you’d been walking back and forth here for 10 minutes now.

“I’m gonna go with this” Steve said throwing in a pack of Cap’n Crunch and you rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe Bucky can get Frosted Flakes and we can leave?” You suggested. Steve chuckled, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss on your head while Bucky took your advice and got Frosted Flakes.

“I’m gonna eat them off of you” He muttered in your ear and you bit your lip, flushing dark. You let them lead you around the store, checking off items off their list. It was so domestic you felt sick. This was not normal, and you unconsciously kept scratching your soulmark hidden under a wristband. You tried not to look at it if at all possible.

Bucky had stopped in front of the shelves containing condoms and quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He asked with a sinful grin and you wiggled until free of their holds. You had to bear their presence at home anyway, anymore and you’ll be smothered.

“We’ve forgotten the cheese dips. I’ll go get some while you finish here.” You said and turned away before they could say anything. You heard them chuckling softly behind you and willed your tears of frustration away.

Your life had changed drastically in the past few months since the night Steve and Bucky marked you as theirs. Try as you might, you couldn’t escape them, not when they are two of the most powerful and influential people in the world. You lived with them in their apartment at the compound now, and to say life was hell would be an understatement. Steve and Bucky have separate rooms but most nights you’re sandwiched between them in one bed since neither wants to spend a night away. You’d had more sex in these few months than people probably did in years.

You veered left into the sauces and spreads aisle, absentmindedly looking at the display. It wouldn’t matter what flavor you got, it would end up spread all over you and licked by your two lovers. You randomly took a jar off the shelf and were about to go back when you bumped into someone standing behind you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to the man behind you. His hand took hold of your elbow for a second to steady you before he stepped away and shook his head.

“It’s alright miss, not a problem.” He said with a small smile. You got a look at his face and your heart skipped a beat. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his genuine smile framed by a well-groomed beard. You saw his eyes dart to the jar in your hand and his lips twitched in amusement.

“I’d advise against this” He said pointing to the jar and you looked down at your hands in confusion. “While one may handle blue cheese, you don’t want to try its dip.”

You winced once you realized what you had picked and the man behind you laughed a little as he saw you put it back.

“What will you suggest?” You asked him. This was probably the only normal interaction you had had in a long time outside of work. It did help that this man was what some would call daddy.

“Oh, I am not a good cook. I just stick to the basics you know, less chances of messing up a dish.” He answered and handed you a classic cheese dip. You took it from him with a smile and thanked him. You lingered a moment, for some reason wanting to stay. It seemed like he had the same idea for even though he had picked his own jar, he didn’t leave.

“You, uh – you should get nachos to go with this. They have them on sale.” You said and internally cringed.

“Oh, alright then. Will you show me the way?” He asked and you nodded, leading him around as he followed with his cart.

“You new in the area?” You asked him since all locals knew the store layout pretty well.

“Ah yes, just moved here from Newton, Massachusetts. My name is Andy Barber” The man said and offered you a hand. Your smile vanished even as you mechanically accepted his hand and shook it. Andy Barber. AB. Like the initials on your wrist. Your hand squeezed around your wristband, your heart beating a mile an hour.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy asked and you realized he’d been speaking to you.

“Ah yes, yes I’m okay. Just lost in thought. Here we are, nachos.” You said and uselessly pointed at the display. You told yourself you were being silly, a lot of people with same initials existed. He may not even have a soulmark. Yet as you looked at him selecting his flavors, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than you had in months. You felt belonged, stupid as that may sound.

“So, you live around here?” You wished Andy would stop talking. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to stay and talk the rest of your life away with him.

“Yes, I am a doctor at the Avenger Tower.” You managed to say and saw his eyebrows raise appreciatively.

“Damn, that’s so cool” He said, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I am a lawyer, starting as a professor in NYU from next term.”

“Damn, that’s so cool” you mimicked him and you both breathed out a laugh. You didn’t realize it as you spoke to him that you were walking aimlessly with him around the store, telling him about the sites he absolutely must visit in New York and the best places to get coffee and hotdogs from. You had circled back to the spreads section and stood awkwardly facing each other.

“Uh, it may seem a little forward, but will you show me around the city?” Andy asked, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt. You wanted him to take it off and see if your initials were tattooed in his skin like his were in yours. You were about to open your mouth when a hand wrapped around your waist from behind.

“There you are sweetie, you had us worried.” Steve’s words felt like a splash of cold water. For a few glorious moments you had forgotten your predicament, lost as you were in conversation with Andy. Your eyes met Andy’s and you saw him frown, his gaze narrowing on Steve’s arm around you and noticing how you tried to get out of it.

“I – uh, couldn’t decide so settled with the classic.” You showed Steve the cheese dip, but his eyes were fixed on Andy whose face was clouded with suspicion.

“Steve Rogers” He offered his hand to Andy, a useless introduction since most people recognized him with ease. You thought Andy would almost decline the handshake but, in the end, politely shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service to the nation and the world.” His words were polite and yet there was a mistrustful edge to it. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything and just walk away. You knew how Steve and Bucky could get about other men in your life, and right now you wanted Andy far away from here.

“Don’t mention it” Steve said preening and you took off his hand from your waist and laced your fingers together, trying to pull him away.

“We gotta go, lots to do back home. Thanks for the suggestion mister” You unnecessarily pointed at the jar again and tried to move back but Steve stood still. You were careful not to mention Andy’s name in front of him and you prayed with everything in you that this interaction would be over soon enough.

“Steve, you find her yet?” You closed your eyes in defeat and shame as Bucky walked from the other side and joined your little party. He closed in on you, hands cupping your face and drawing you in a deep kiss. You kept your eyes downcast, not looking at Andy and hoping the Earth will swallow you whole.

“Yeah, she’s was just having some trouble selecting the flavor until this gentleman here helped her.” Steve said and Bucky turned to look at Andy who was frowning harder than ever now. Andy’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t let yourself meet his. Your shame and fear were profound and all you wanted was to leave.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Andy to Steve to you and he straightened, his arm curling around your shoulder, hand resting near your left collarbone just inches away from the scarred initials of him and Steve.

“Thank you, our girl here can be a little iffy when it comes to food” Bucky remarked affectionately but his emphasis on ‘our’ was not lost on either of you.

“Not a problem.” Andy finally nodded and took hold of his cart, ready to wheel it away. You almost sighed in relief, but your heart broke a little when he started retreating. Your eyes met for a brief moment and it seemed as if he would stop but then you looked away and he continued moving.

“What are we going to do with you Y/n?” Bucky muttered once Andy was out of sight. They didn’t care they were in a public place, both of them standing almost on top of you.

“I don’t know what you mean” You whispered and felt Bucky’s metal hand tighten over your arm. You hissed and tried to pull away but found your chin being raised up to face him with rough hands.

“Do you want another lesson on how to behave around strange men?” Bucky asked and your eyes widened, head shaking in negation.

“No, no Buck. Please, nothing happened. We were just talking” You begged, trying to convince him. You watched in horror as one of his hand outright cupped your left boob, fingers splayed so they pressed into the scars over your heart.

“You sure? I can show the whole store who you belong to my love.”

You were ready to start bawling when Bucky started fiddling with the neckline of your top, but it was Steve who saved the day. He gently pried Bucky’s hands from you and tucked you under his arm, pushing your head in his chest with a hand while the other kept Bucky away.

“Not here Buck, look at her. Honestly!” Steve started a swift walk towards the exit with you at his side and you couldn’t help but look back. It was one of those situations where you found the precious thing lost within a sea of garbage when you spotted Andy, his eyes not on you but your arm. You followed his gaze and suppressed a sob as you saw your wristband had shifted after your struggle with Bucky, bringing into view the initials that made your soulmark.

ASB: Andrew S Barber

You didn’t know his middle name but you couldn’t be any more sure of who your soulmate was when Andy’s eyes darted to his own covered wrist the moment Bucky shouted, “Steven Rogers and Y/n Y/l/n you both come back here this very second!”

Bucky was getting your stuff checked out, standing at the cashiers with his grumpy dad face on. Steve ignored him and continued dragging you away towards the exit. Your eyes watered and you tried to stem their flow so you could have one last glance at Andy without tears blurring your vision. You both stared at each other and just before you walked out the doors, even from the distance you saw Andy mouth a promise:

I will come for you

+++++

Fate was a cruel bastard, and you cursed your destiny as you lay curled in Steve’s lap after dinner. No one spoke much once you got home but you knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You were wearing a short nightie, Bucky’s favorite and Steve’s hands were absently massaging you as he read through a new mission briefing.

“Wanda was asking about you again” Steve said, and you blinked at him. Just another thing you loved that they had snatched away from you. Wanda was obviously very suspicious when you announced you’ll be shifting from your apartment to Steve and Bucky’s since she knew you wanted to wait for your soulmate to show up. You would have confided in her had you not been aware of the damage your lovers could cause if displeased. Bucky had strictly ordered you to keep away from her until you were in control of your thoughts, which he was afraid Wanda would read. You had looked to help from Steve, who was softer out of the two, but he agreed with Bucky, “Better she not know anything than us having to eliminate her if she did.” They talked of death and violence with such ease it made your skin crawl.

“Can I see her now? I don’t think my texts are keeping her satisfied.” If only you could get a few hours away from their stifling presence maybe it would be more tolerable. The both of them clung to you like a babe to his mum, and your only respite were the hours you spent working.

“Do you think you’re ready to see her now?” Steve questioned you, finally looking up from his mission briefing. Before you could answer Bucky came behind you and plucked you from Steve’s arms like you weighed nothing and perched you in his own lap. Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“The better question would be if you think you deserve to see her.” Bucky commented, his hand fondling your behind under the silk nightie. You shifted under his touch and gaze, uncomfortable under the stern look.

“I’m minding my thoughts, I promise.” You whined and Bucky’s hand cracked against your ass suddenly. You squealed and he held you down with one hand, the second blow even harder than the first.

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant. I don’t like it when you act dumb.” Bucky snarled and you flinched as he raised his hand again. To your surprise, the slap barely had any force behind it and Bucky rubbed your ass softly as if in apology. You turned your face to peek at him and saw him and Steve locked in one of those silent eye contact conversations that you absolutely loathed. Steve was almost glaring at Bucky as if displeased and Bucky had enough grace to look a little ashamed.

“I wasn’t!” Bucky cried out suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and huffing. It was as if they were continuing a conversation that went from telepathy to verbal and your mouth parted in awe when Steve continued speaking too.

“You would have if I didn’t stop you.”

Your gaze moved from one man to another, confused beyond measure. In a flash Bucky was gathering you in his arms, holding you to himself like he was afraid papa Steve would take away his favorite toy.

“I know my limits Steve. She’s mine as much as yours. Stop it.”

You were sure if you tilted your head up you would see Bucky pouting but instead you observed Steve who was in classic captain pose with hands on his hips and disapproval on his face.

“Do you really? Because it sure seemed like you were about to strip her naked in a supermarket of all places.”

“I wouldn’t! I was teasing her.” Bucky said, his head buried in your neck. He took your hand and placed it on his head and you slowly scratched with your nails, making him purr in satisfaction. Steve didn’t look the least bit convinced and his eyes kept bouncing between you and Bucky. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh before getting up.

“She is sleeping in my room tonight.” Your head snapped up just as Bucky’s hold tightened around you in rejection of the idea.

“No, you can’t take her from me.” Bucky snapped and you resisted the urge to slap them both. It bothered you how they went on talking about you like you weren’t even present here.

“I’m not taking her away from you, pal. Just like she learns her lessons when she fucks up, so will you.”

Bucky didn’t look like he would want a lesson, but it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this talk because he said nothing more. He almost didn’t let you leave when Steve took your arm to take you away but finally relented.

“When can I have her back?” Yep, he was definitely pouting.

“When you learn that teasing is pinching her ass in public, not stripping her bare in front of strangers.”

+++++

It had been a while since there were two people in bed and not three. You stretched your feet out, glad to have some extra space. Even cuddled up in Steve’s massive arms, your thoughts returned to Andy. You had finally found him after years of searching, only to lose him on the same day. It was a cosmic joke to have you cross paths now when it was too late to do anything. Your hand unconsciously traced the letters on your wrist, a slight thrill running down your spine as you finally realized what and who these initials stood for.

It wasn’t just a legend anymore. They were right when they said that soulmates completed you. In those precious few moments you had spent with Andy, all your worries had fallen away. You both had built a bubble around yourself where the outer world was nothing but a distant blur and you saw only each other. Conversation didn’t sound strained and you felt so connected despite having just met. You wished you knew he existed a few months ago. How different would life have been then if you were laying in his arms and not Steve and Bucky’s?

You bit your lip when you felt Steve take your hand in his from behind you, his fingers too tracing the initials on your wrist. You stiffened and held yourself back from snatching your hand away. It was never a very good idea to resist when it came to them both.

“Bucky doesn’t know yet” Steve murmured in your ear as he tapped your wrist. You felt your heart drop in your stomach, your fingers curling in your palm. “He thinks it was just some man you were speaking to. His jealousy makes him sloppy and he doesn’t notice details.”

You were turned around to face him, your eyes locking on Steve’s which were a vibrant blue even in the dark. His hands played at the hem of your nightie, teasing it.

“I noticed of course. How could I not, I have never seen you smile the way you smiled at him” You didn’t seem capable of speaking or protesting when Steve’s hands slipped up your clothing and caressed your thighs and belly. His hands were moving but his eyes were fixed on you and try as you might you couldn’t look away. Slowly, gently like one does to precious cargo you were stripped, your body baring itself inch by delicious inch. The calluses on his fingers rubbed against your nipples and you let out a moan, your slick coating your walls and thighs. Your lips met his in a desperate kiss and you couldn’t help but make pathetic mewls as his tongue raced across your throat. He came to rest above your heart, tracing the scar over it. JBB and SGR

“How are these any different to those on your wrist?” He questioned as he entered you slowly, looking deep into your eyes like trying to search your soul. “If we carve your name on our body, would that make you look at us like you looked at him?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to, the heat of Steve warming your insides. You met in a familiar dance, bodies slapping, and moaning together until pleasure took over every cell in your body. Steve pulled out and released on your thighs, rubbing his essence in your skin, his breath warm on your cheek.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if I find you talking to that man again” It was not a question and you shook your head, tears travelling down the sides of your face and getting lost in your hair. “Good girl. We can forget it and Bucky will never know. Because if that happens, even I won’t be able to help you.”

You reminded yourself that Steve was just as much of a monster as Bucky was. He had taken you against your will too, and while he may as well be the lesser of the two evils, you could not trust him. You turned to your side, automatically curling into Steve out of habit when he held you. That is what this relationship felt like. A habit. It was a routine you were stuck in with no way out. You closed your eyes, seeking the escape of sleep and tried to sooth your broken heart over a love it may never find again.

+++++

Bucky was a terrible stalker and you wondered how he remained a ‘ghost story’ for all those decades. Steve had been hoarding you in his room for nearly a week and you knew Bucky was at his wit’s end. He wasn’t even pretending to hide anymore; he’d just stand across the med bay and ogle you like a roadway creep. You didn’t even know what to do, who should you listen to. Being caught in the crossfire between them is not fun.

You finally had enough and made your way over to him. You were a few feet away when he snatched you in his arms, crushing you to his frame and kissing you soundly. Pulling away, he put his forehead on yours and bit your lip.

“I’ve missed you baby.” He cooed and you sighed.

“Is that why you’re lurking here and scaring my nursing staff away?” Bucky nodded, pecking your lips once more before you moved away.

“I’m sorry about the other day you know. I just…lost control.” It was rare that he would apologize, and you were too smart to reject this small consolation. He will probably be kind and soft for the coming few days and you took what you can. You smiled at him, promising him you forgave him.

“I have just one public hour and then we can go home together. Sounds good?” You asked and Bucky’s smile was almost shy when he agreed. Sometimes you believed it when they say they loved you, but how can someone hurt whom they love?

“You asked me once what I see in you, but have you ever looked at yourself the way I look at you? Here you are, one of the most accomplished doctors working for the Avengers, and yet you give your time to general public to treat their common cold and flu. That’s what I see in you. Your kindness, that light, it guides me away from the darkness in me.” Bucky confessed and you looked away from him. He could be so sweet when he has to be. Both him and Steve. You wonder again if they could always be like that, will you be able to love them.

“I – uh, I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Wait in the common room for me.”

You watched Bucky go and returned with a perturbed mind. The hot and cold behavior almost gives you a whiplash. In the past few months, you have spent several nights crying, but just as many moaning in pleasure. Maybe it could have been easier if you’d given in and just accepted them, but love does not come by force. They can carve their names in your skin a hundred times over, and yet it won’t leave a mark on your soul.

Your assistant entered, informing you that general patients were waiting for you and you nodded. Tony gave you an hour free every day to treat patients outside the tower for free. You believed being a doctor your job should be more than saving just superheroes. One by one your patients trickled in, most with common diseases. Some you prescribed for additional testing; all costs covered by the Stark Industries.

“Your last patient ma’am”

You nodded to let your assistant know you heard her and entered the room. You were looking over a report as you entered, the door shutting itself behind you automatically.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You looked up and the report fell out of your hand. Sitting in front of you was Andy Barber, his eyes crinkled at the sides due to the wide smile he supported.

“I believe I have a heart problem doctor. A beautiful lady stole mine.”

+++++

 Taglist is open for all characters

[bowieandqueen11]

The Feeling of Being in Love / Dustfinger Imagine

Request: Hiii! Ok omg I just found out you also write for Inkheart and this idea popped up in my head because I love my firedancing boi Dustfinger so much.

May I request something where the reader takes Dustfinger out for ice-cream for the first time?

I love your writing so much, you inspired me to actually post some of my reader imagines on Tumblr and I just wanna say thank you for that. 💖

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SEND IN A DUSTFINGER REQUEST THANK YOUU @holymultiplefandomsbatman!!! I’m sorry this is terrible, it’s been a while since I read the books! Also real talk, genuinely ily you so much every time I see you in my feed it makes me smile so much you the real one b <3

Even Dustfinger was finding the day uncomfortably warm.

He stands uncomfortably by the fountain, fingers digging - scratching and scrambling at the loose frays of his faded and worn jumper. His fingers itched for you with every second that ticked by in this quaint European town, still so unused to the ways of this world. His eyes flicked around his surroundings, wind blowing the wisps of his blonde fringe lightly over his eyes as if trying to hide him from danger. He was still so suspicious, so mistrustful of everyone, that he wished more than anything that you weren’t taking your sweet time leaving him here. He cowered into himself as a couple of screaming kids ran past, chasing each other.

Despite their constant scrambling against his skin, digging into himself, his fingers itched for you more than anything.

The water is harsh and merciless in the way it dropped down from the fountain’s cupid head and rained down on the pool below, flecking the poor man’s unsuspecting back with its drops. The cobbled stone he currently perched on at the edge of the village square was a mosaic of tangled moss and verglas despite the heat, so different to the constant, intense heat of Argenta. 

He shivered a little, beginning to try and take his mind off home and back to his new one. Back to you. Despite his distaste of this world, despite his fear, he found a fond smile had somehow managed to clamber up the edges of his face in an uncomfortably familiar way. He began to click his fingers, fumbling them together and gazing into the flickering flames that arise without really seeing them. He was too busy reminiscing on how he had first met you, that damned Silvertongue’s sister. The way your eyes had lit up during that snowy night outside the Italian bookstore. 

Your brother had told you stories of course. But Dustfinger, the famed fire eater, had remained a blurred shadow, a fable, a dream in the back of your mind.

Yet, every puzzle piece seemed to fall into place in your mind when you had spotted him. You were not afraid of the hunched, desperate, ragged man standing as a begging stranger in the glowing lamplight. Not angry at the way he held out his hand for the book, standing there, intrigued, as Mortimer shoved Meggy behind his back. The way you hadn’t run away, but instead gave Dustfinger the biggest surprise of his grief-stricken life by, instead, placing your own hand in his and pulling him forward.

Tumbling, you had caught this crumbling, heartbroken stranger in your arms. Despite his protests, the way his breath raced as you held him against his chest, you still gave him the tenderness he had so desperately needed in all these years of being alone. He had melted into you almost straight away, and since then, he still wasn’t sure how his body didn’t fall to pieces when he was apart from you.

He was still so lost in his heart’s dreams, that he hadn’t realised you had returned from the blue chimneyed parlour on the corner, until he felt your hip sitting down to rest against his. He had given you his fern coloured trench coat, fancying it some sort of good luck charm while you were away from him. You had taken it off, tying it around your waist until the sleeves bunched around the front.

This, coupled with the sound of your sweet, mellifluous laughter as you held out an ice cream cone towards his raised eyebrow, was enough to send a flaming blush racing across his usually tautly pale cheeks.

His fingers tingled as they brushed against yours. He was still so unused to this feeling - this knowledge that somehow, in some other world he could never even have fantasized, he had a love so overshadowing, so powerful, that it could send chills to every nerve of his body with only the most miniscule of touches. He almost jumped away as he clumsily grabbed the strawberry ice cream, eyes flitting back to the ground, as if that would stop you from noticing how flustered he had become without you even saying a word his way.

It terrified him. You terrified him. But, by his maker, if it didn’t make his heart feel that strange mix of elation and wretchedness that only love could inflict.

‘Don’t worry Dusty, I won’t bite.’

You hit his shoulder with your own, biting your lip to stop yourself from giggling as you braced yourself for the sigh you knew was coming. It had taken a while to break down walls, despite their fragility. He was still Dustfinger, still so stubborn, still so careful and protective of his heart that making your way in was slow progress. Yet you had made some strides. You knew how much he hated the nickname you had chosen for him.

He rolled his eyes, sighing as he closed them. 

‘How many times do I have to tell you-’

‘...not to call you Dusty’, you finish, having been over this charade a hundred times already since he came to live with you. You grinned, taking a lick from your cone, content with the way his lips twitched from the corner of your vision.

‘It’s not my fault you have no sense of humour.’

‘And it’s not my fault that your world makes no sense’, Dustinger retorted, but there was no sense of malice in his words. There never would be, never could be, if they were directed at you.

‘This, especially. What is this sloppy mess, princess?’

You felt your heart rate quicken slightly, unaware Dustfinger would call your bluff and come up with his own nickname for you. You pretend not to notice, choosing instead to go back to your sweet treat before it began running down the side of the cone and making a dripping mess on your fingers.

He takes one cautious bite himself, humming slightly as the cold bites his teeth.

‘It’s called ice cream, Dustfinger. It’s like a sort of sweet, flavoured ice, but a thousand times better tasting than any way I could describe it.’

When you stop talking, you find that he is looking at you expectantly, eyes squinting slightly in the sun’s blaze, yet still shimmering with some feeling you couldn’t quite understand the magnitude of. His head is tilted slightly to the side, hair wild and free as he just gazes at you, not saying anything, not even thinking. He’s just noticing, taking you all in while he still has the chance.

‘I just thought, you were so warm all the time, it might be nice to feel something else for a change.’

The intensity of the look suddenly has you feeling a little self-conscious, noticing in the water’s reflection the little drops of chocolate that stain the corner of your mouth. Stammering slightly, you reach up to wipe it off, but are stopped by Dustfinger’s own large thumb gently reaching towards your face. You freeze, his skin brushing against your own like a thousand hot pricks as he carefully guides his burnt fingers across the edge of your bottom lip.

For a moment he doesn’t draw away. You drop your cone, splashing ice down onto the cobblestone below your feet in surprise. His hand just stays there, gently tracing the outline of your lip. His eyes dip slightly in concentration, breath ragged as you reach your own hand up to cup his.

‘I am... definitely... feeling something’, he manages to whisper out into this strange world. In this confusing, lost, unfamiliar world, it was the only truth left he had left to give.

His body trembles with the effort of trying to restrain himself, but his body pushes it’s way forwards despite him. Soon, you can feel his chest against yours, breath warm and long as he sighs against your chin, his frame leaning over you slightly.

The sight of his widened, terrified eyes are the last thing you remember seeing, before he reaches down and presses his sugar coated lips against your own.

[elfwoodfae]

Writing’s On the Wall Harrison Eo Wells x reader.

Chapter 2- Specter.

Author’s note: I am so happy and excited for this new series. I hope sincerely that you all like it and let me know your thoughts, this new series will touch on darker themes up ahead in the future. Also tumblr is being annoying with the paragraphs that’s why they are so far apart.

I made this moodboard. I looked up and searched the photos and edited them. I don’t mind if you use it.

Part 1 (here)

A strange calmness falls over him; he turns around, opening his eyes for the first time in hours. He feels exhausted, having spend the majority of the night observing you. He chastises himself, he shouldn’t have done that, there was no other option, he reminds himself, he is desperate and frustrated. The sudden reminder of your presence this early in the morning angers him, a growl escaping his mouth as he sits up, the white linens of the bed pooling around his hips as he rubs his face with one hand, turning his head and doing a double take at the door, making sure is locked, he knows he locked it last night but the paranoia your presence has brought him makes him second guess himself.

His feet touch the floor first, he stretches his arms over his head, moaning at the relief it offers, his white shirt riding up enough to expose a gleam of milky skin; his hair is a mess of black curls, the expression looking back at him thorough the mirror is annoyed, tired, he splashes water on his face, he needs to wake up. The shadow of a beard is starting to appear on his chin, along his jaw and cheeks, he closes his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck and sighting before gripping the sink in a moment of fury where he wishes he could rip it out of the wall and throw it, shattering it into pieces.

How hard could it be to get rid of you? It wouldn’t be hard at all, it would be done before you could even draw your next breath, it would bring him more pleasure than beating Allen, but the consequences would be devastating, his rational side reminded him, there was not possible way to free himself from the torture of your existence without dooming his. Had Joe not met you things would have been different but he could see as clear as day the picture waiting back for him at the lab. Barry most likely knows about you by now, he knows there will be questions once he gets there, they will be innocent in nature but they will only serve to cement your presence into his mind.

He looks at himself in the mirror, admiring every detail of his clothes before he turns around, spotting his chair exactly where he had left it last night; he walks to it, looking at it so intently as if his gaze alone could burn it, hating the thing he punishes himself with. It’s for a greater good, he remembers. Wheeling into the main area of the house he notices all the lights are still off, he takes solace onto the fact that you are still sleeping, freeing him from your presence even if he knows it will only be for a few hours. He decides to leave, not wanting to take the chance of you deciding to appear and tag along, he doesn’t think of himself capable enough to not pull a Brutus a gut you in the middle of the day. This are also the only quiet moments he will get to think, to work on his suit, he sighs, there is so little time for him to use even when he is always alone.

The room is unfamiliar to your eyes, the bed linens are soft, warm, they smell of fresh cotton and clean clothes, it takes a moment for your memories to return, reminding you where you are. The room is dark, the curtains successfully blocking any sunlight from peaking in, there is no telling the time as you look around trying to get at least a sense of how rested you are. The clock reads sometime after 8, Harrison has more likely left by now and a slight disappointment settles over you, you wanted to see the labs, maybe he will want to take you tomorrow. The bathroom is spacious, glass doors decorating the shower as a black marble vanity rest on the wall, its too big for one person, it feels too luxurious for a guest room. Your mind reminds you of a forgotten fact, Harrison was never a showoff kind of person, he liked his house to feel welcoming and cozy, completely opposite to this place.

Walking out of the room is impossible not to notice the eerie silence that accompanies you, all the lights are off but the sun seems to illuminate the whole place through the skylight. A feeling of anxiety settles in your stomach as your eyes scan the expanse of the room, a corridor shielding doors you haven’t explored yet calls to you, maybe it would be best to wait for him to come back and show you around. You look around once again, scanning the walls and every available surface, your brows furrowing once a detail settles into you that you hadn’t taken into account the previous day; there is not even a single photo of Tess or himself anywhere. Maybe he has them in his room, or perhaps in his office, you think, the anxiety of walking into his space long forgotten, replaced with curiosity.

With fast steps you make it to the first door, its unlocked. The wood doesn’t creak when you open it and you wish it had, any sound would be better than this silence. Peaking your head inside, rows of shelfs of books welcome you, a dark desk sits in the middle, random papers and pieces discarded around it, nothing you would be able to recognize. A leather chair sits behind it and for a moment you wonder what could he need it for? Scanning the surface for any photos, any memories of Tess you could find but is empty, not even a photo of her in any of the walls.

Moving along you walk to the last room, the one on the end of the hall; opening the door, the room is dark, no light peaking into it, the bedsheets are a dark grey, almost black, nothing is out of order, a smell that could only be described as a freshly shaved man and clean clothes hits you, its pleasant, fresh. There is once again no photos to be seen, you should turn around, walk back and continue with your day but curiosity gets the best of you; the walking closet is big, rows of clothes hanging, color coordinated and perfectly ironed. A mirror from floor to ceiling adorning the wall in front of you. Walking closer to his clothes you grab the sleeve of one of his expensive white shirts, wanting to feel the softness of it, you don’t recall ever seeing him wearing one. Out of impulse you bring it to your nose, clothing your eyes as the smell of his cologne hits you, causing a blush to rise up your cheeks; he probable sprays it on himself here, impregnating everything around him.

Abandoning his room you walk into the kitchen, there is so many things about him you wish you knew, things that have probably changed and things that you don’t remember. He seems so distant, so cold, so unavailable to you, it made you wonder why he had allowed you to stay with him, perhaps it was not you, it was your attachment, the last piece of her memory he had, you were like an heirloom, one he refused to throw away, and that realization made you sad.

He didn’t seem happy, he seemed lonely, used to being by himself, making you question if he had any friends, if there was anyone caring for him. The man you remembered was always accompanied, always surrounded by people, always kind, always loving; where had that man disappear? You wondered, remembering how he hadn’t even known who you were once he picked up the phone that night, but what could you expected? You had never reached out, staying like a ghost, gone and hidden from his life.

Sighting you shake your head, forcing these thoughts to abandon you, having had enough of their torment for a day, there are things after all to be do today. Her face attacks your memory, you remember her from the times Tess and Harrison had brought her over, Christina is her name, she was close to Harrison and she had been very close to Tess, urging the obligation of a visit in you the moment you had decided to visit Central City, certain guilt at staying so out of touch to both of them fills you.

Perhaps you should have called her office before hand, you think, she is a busy woman after all, but after a few name drops from her past her assistant informs you that she will see you shortly. The door opens to the conference room she asked you to wait at, her face haven’t changed, a few wrinkles here and there, but the same determine eyes started back at you.

“Y/n” she says your name, surprise lace in her voice, she seems excited to see you. She hugs you, before commenting how much you have changed since she last saw you approximately fifteen years ago.

“I am so glad you could see me, I’m so sorry I never reached out, is just after the death of Tess so many things changed.” You begin, feeling the sting of tears coming to her at the emotion of relieving those memories, at being so close to someone that knew her.

“I’m surprise Harrison didn’t mention that I was visiting, I assumed you both were close friends.” You say nonchalantly, catching in the way her face contract, she seems uncomfortable at the mention of his name.

“Well yes we were.” She says, taking in a breath before continuing.

“You see, after the accident Harrison and I fell out of touch.” She says, seemingly leaving it at that, but curiosity is a powerful feeling, pulling its strings inside of you, forcing you to ask.

“Oh, but don’t you both keep any contact at all?” The question seems innocent, you genuinely want to know. She understands that, concern for you raising in her as she decides to open up more to you.

“I’ll be honest with you y/n, after the accident Harrison changed so much, that loving, caring man disappeared, he became cold, calculating, manipulative. I understand how grieve can change a person, but he, is like he is not even the same person anymore.” She tells you and you get the feeling she is not speaking in a metaphorical way.

You decide to confide her in your worries of him, in your confusion when he didn’t know who you were, when he didn’t even recognize your name. You can see the concern raising in her eyes, at you being alone with a man neither of you know any longer, but you assure her is fine, you will be fine, how bad could he be? He wouldn’t hurt you, this was Harrison you both are talking about, even if neither of you believe it completely.

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@wintersire

@reallystressedhoneybee

@fanfiction-and-fantasies

@saltykidcreation

@dumpeetintofyre

@yetanotherwells

[dreamiesdotcom]

celestial | h.rj

Summary: To attribute full sight and still have the ability to describe things to someone who's never seen them means that you've felt the world deeper than anybody else.

Word count: 2164

a/n: idk whats up with me and midnights

Renjun's first question goes like this: "What does the pool look like?"

Naturally, Jeno panics; how do you explain a pool to someone who's never seen it? He's been so used to seeing it on a daily that he didn't even pay mind to the details. He debates on describing a rectangle, and then describing the waters, and then whatever the hell his 12-year-old mind could come up with. Naturally, he fails.

For him, you saved everything that day. You grabbed Renjun's hand, intertwining your fingers before grazing the water. "Do you feel that?"

"What exactly am I supposed to feel?"

"The water. Do you feel that constant flow and the relaxing cold?" you laughed then, patient even for the moody boy. He huffs out his cheeks and nods, you let go of his hands. "That's blue, Renjun. The water reflects the sky, and a pool is like a little ocean. An ocean is like a world filled with blue."

He tries to think of it, vast and endless fields of freedom. He couldn't, though; all he's known about the sky is that it was blue, and that blue is associated with sadness. He takes advantage of the fact that someone's willing to answer his question, and he asks again, "Is it scary?"

"Mhm, for some, it is. I'll let you in a secret, come here." You nod, and then he tilts his head to the side. He hears a splash, and doesn't expect it once he hears your voice after — "I'm actually scared of swimming pools."

"Didn't you just go in?"

"No, that was Jeno. I'm here." You poked a finger on his left arm, and he could tell you're wearing that cheeky grin. His stance softens. "I'm just beside you."

###

It was morning, the sun was shining and the scorching summer heat was kinder than everyone expected it to be. Somewhere around the room, Chenle and Jisung successfully trapped a sleeping Jaemin in a domino prison, Jeno's trying to convince them why this is such a bad idea and Mark is getting scolded by Hyuck. The TV fades to background noise, the plan of cooking extra pancakes long forgotten. Renjun leans his head on your shoulders, "What does the night look like?"

It felt like an odd question to ask as the sun is halfway to its peak, but Renjun's curiosity piques in no time. You hum for a bit to think, "The night is very different to a lot of people."

Very different for a lot of people... yeah, many things in the world are like that. He figured it out years ago when you told him about the swimming pools, and the airplanes, and the rollercoasters. He figured it out when you talked to him about books, when you taught him about colors, about shapes.

He still doesn't know what different looks like, and what importance it holds.

"Hyuck loves the night. You hear his laughter, right? He likes going on adventures and feeling the wind. I think, to him, the night looks like a harsh passing of the breeze you felt when we went out on a drive." He takes in your words. These days, he gets better with understanding metaphors — he learned that blue is not just a shade of sadness, and that sky doesn't always mean blue — he understands your words better. "But me... I just sleep. I don't like the night very much."

"Huh?"

"Have you ever been in a silent place, Jun?" you asked softly. "Not the silence you can fill with music. I'm talking about blank, emotionless silence; the one that echoes. The one that haunts you. The one that makes you feel alone. That's what the night looks like for me."

Renjun wanted to nod, and he wanted to say yes because he's been in that silent place for the longest time. It's all he's ever known, and it's all that he's ever seen; it's the only thing he sees — black, echoing, loud nothingness.

He didn't, though.

Instead, he asks a question, "What do you think about the night?"

"I think it's a question." comes quickly in a reply. "I still don't know how a nightmare town gives life to dreamers, but it does. It's a question I do not want to know the answer to."

Renjun knows of the stars and the sky, and you'd tried to explain their light by telling him what blinding comfort was — think of all your loneliest moments being washed away by the fire I told you about, and that's pretty much it, 'jun — and he knows of the big, gazing moon that changes shape now and then. It's what makes up most of the night, Jeno had said, so he knows that too.

What he doesn't know is why it seems so vicious to you, and what he doesn't know is that if he could see, would he have chosen to close his eyes to not witness such complex sadness.

###

It's at times like this when solace blooms in his heart. The rest of the world seems to be fast asleep, but he's so awake, so aware, so alive. You sit beside him, yet again brought him to the place you and Jaemin frequents in, and he ignores the jealous feeling in his chest. It's at times like this that Renjun realizes he's falling.

"Your smile must look beautiful," he wonders out loud. "Can you please tell me how your smile looks like?"

"Me?" You replied nonchalantly. Your chuckle passes as cold as the night breeze, and he wonders how the poet would write themselves as poetry. The blankness of your words dulls the hope in his eyes, "I... don't like it. My eyes... they always look tired. I always look tired. I hate myself."

For a moment, he dwells on his thoughts — Jaemin's brought you here, and you're more frequent here together, and he's seen how you looked against the glimmering stars. Did he fall in love? Did he want to keep you all to himself, like a little secret? Did he want to kiss you until all spite of yourself vanishes from your soul? Jaemin must've, Renjun knows. He knows because even blind, he's aware of how beautiful you truly are; not only he's heard it from his friends, but he feels it strongly. He couldn't see the city lights that he's heard of so many times, but he knows you shine brighter than them.

Hell, he couldn't even see you — he couldn't even see anything, but he knows you do. He knows you are. You think he's wrong, that he's more gorgeous, but he reaches for your hands.

He doesn't know what beautiful looks like. He just knows that it's breath-taking, soul-stealing, ethereal, and you.

"I think you smile like euphoria. I think you smile like the sound of music boxes, those with lovely tunes," he says, eyes closed and breathing fast. "I think... "

'I love you.' oh, how he wished it's easy to say those words. He purses his lips. "...you're one of the most beautiful people I've ever met, right next to my mother."

Beside him, you chuckled and held his hands. "You're sleepy."

"I am. Right now, I'm sleepy and I know you're beautiful." He squeezes your hands, looking at the direction he knows you're at. He lets out a shaky smile, "Tomorrow, I will be wide awake and I'd still think you're stunning."

It's at times like this that Renjun realizes he's falling. It's at times like this that he fears how much he can't wait to crash.

###

Renjun's biggest fear among many is that he'll never feel like this again.

He fell too hard. He fell too quickly and too harshly and he's only noticing it now when the impact makes itself known and he couldn't stand up. He knew that he was scared, he knew that he was afraid then, but only now did he know what it truly meant to be terrified; when he's sitting beside you on the roof, feeling the wind pass by, and he couldn't help but wonder what if it's not us, but I can never love the person meant for me because they're not you?

It's a silly thing, maybe. He did not believe in many things and fate is not one of the few he believed in. He thinks that love is something you choose for yourself — it's something you decide on your own. He thinks that the only problem in 'not being made for each other' is that you relied too much on what the stars wrote, and didn't write your story on your own. What even are these stars, aside from unknown giant speckles of light? Why should they decide someone's life?

He adores them, he knows, and now he can't help his curiosity: "How do the stars look like tonight?"

"They're bright. Very bright."

He swoons at the content sigh you let out before speaking, and he lets himself indulge. It's at moments like this when he lets himself feel, where he relishes in the adoration he nestles.

"They ought to be," he whispers to himself. "They gotta be bright if they're trying to outshine you."

Giggles fades to laughter, and genuine words burn forced. He could almost taste the bitterness of your words, "You haven't seen me."

Does he need to?

"I don't need to," he concludes. "There's so much more to you than what I couldn't see."

Because it's true. All those years you held this something in you, a piece of an old soul and an unknown heavenly something you ignored just so you could spite yourself. You had this way with words, this certain understanding of the world that he's never found in someone else. Renjun thinks that to attribute full sight and still have the ability to describe things to someone who's never seen them means that you've felt the world deeper than anybody else, and to know that the world is cruel but still choose to keep your eyes open is something that should be admired.

Right now, you're the closest to him you've ever been, and he bathes in the feeling of your lips hovering above his.

"I'm a mess, Huang Renjun."

"You're an art in progress," he whispers back, eyes fluttering shut as you close what little distance you have left. "But even half-made, you're a masterpiece."

###

If somebody asked Renjun if he ever saw this coming, he'd say "Why the fuck would you even ask me that question?"

Alright, jokes aside, never in his mind did he think life would turn out this way. First of all, a lot of unexpected things have already happened, but he's stubborn so of course, that doesn't convince him. He should've felt it coming, but of course, he refused to. After all, why would he even think of his best friend laying beside him on his bed, talking about random things all night in every way domestic? Why would he even think of you two being together, whispering sweet nothings to each other? He's guilty of doing those, yes, but that doesn't mean that he knows the answer. In a spur of the moment decision, he asks another question — "Why'd you choose me?"

"You're the only one who wanted me—IT'S A JOKE! Hey, hey, I was only kidding," you laugh, finding so many things entertaining about the fact that he's unamused. He preens at the soft kiss you placed on the edge of his lips, and then even more when you whisper, "You're the only one I wanted."

Normally, this is where his heart would do those weird flips and antics. This is the time where he'd feel like he's in another world, like he's invincible and oh so lucky to be thoroughly adored by the person he loves so much.

It's only that sometimes, Renjun feels unreasonable. He's sensitive and insecure and it's so much easier to find flaws in himself than to appreciate the things that made him who he is. Sometimes, he needs to ask some things he's not exactly sure of, things much like: "Even with... even with my eyes... like this?"

And it's you, and it's never dull when it's with you, everything is always beautiful and poetic. He doesn't know where that voice was coming from, but he hears it in his mind, and it tells him to trust you.

A butterfly kiss on each of his eyelids. A hand warm on the top of his hands. The rain pours heavily outside but it's muffled enough that it's calming, and all that he can think of is warm, so warm, so loved. You hold your foreheads close and keep them close for seconds, before you press a soft kiss on his lips, "Your eyes are beautiful, my love."

And for once, Renjun's not afraid to ask — "How do they look like?"

Beautiful and so much more.

"As if something straight out of a magical dream, because you are. You are magical," you whisper, breathing in slow intervals. "You are the closest to celestial a human could be."

[blossom-hwa]

Put Your Arms Around Me (I’ll Be Warm For Days) - DAEYEOL

so I once swore I'd never write a vampire fic yet here I am breaking that promise because I saw this post explaining that once you rescind your welcome to a vampire they are obligated to leave and then this just happened

god I already feel embarrassed just queuing this I'm so sorry

Pairing: Daeyeol x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, vampire!au

Triggers: mentions of biting like once? it never gets described

Word Count: 3k

In your arms, Daeyeol feels just a little more human.

Golden Child Masterlist

Spinning in the pouring rain, dreary gray clouds lining the sky with not a hint of sky in between, your laughter rings radiant in the air as Daeyeol watches from under the apartment overhang, umbrella closed by his side. A small smile lifts the corners of his lips, a smile that he no longer tries to hide – you know how feels. And though you haven’t given him a reply just yet, it’s a blessing nonetheless not to have to hide the love in his expression whenever he sees you free, happy, alive.

“Daeyeol!” You come running up, shoes squelching through streets already covered in a layer of water. Even as cold rain splashes and hits his skin, his smile widens as your wet face appears in his line of vision. “Come on, you stupid baby – just for a few minutes!”

“You’re calling me a stupid baby?” He scoffs in mock indignity, pulling you out of the rain. “I’m several centuries older than you, thank you very much, and I have more degrees than you will ever earn in your life –”

A wet hand hits his arm and your laughter rings again, music in Daeyeol’s ears. “And yet you’re still afraid of a little rain,” you tease, hand wrapping around his wrist. “How is it that you’re the immortal who’ll never get sick or tired but you’re also the one waiting out the downpour?”

“How is it that you’re the human who’ll definitely get sick and sniffly but you’re also the one dancing out in said downpour?” Daeyeol counters, shrugging off his coat. The chill strikes his bare arms but he ignores it, placing it over your shoulders. “You need a hot shower or you’re going to be sick all day tomorrow.”

“Hey, just a few minutes.” You beam at him, pulling the coat around you more securely. “Come on, please?”

He can’t say no. He never could, not when faced with you. Even though Daeyeol is a centuries old vampire and has seen enough of the world to make him lose faith in humanity multiple times (once quite recently), the sparkle in your eyes never fails to remind him that there’s still kindness, there’s still good, there’s still love in the world that might just prevail over all the bad. So he follows you into the rain and watches you spin under the showering droplets, arms held out wide (his coat is definitely going to need a long wash), and even as the cold air begins to seep into his already cold skin, he finds warmth in your laugh, warmth in your smile, warmth even in your chilly hand as it wraps around his fingers and forces him to spin around once too.

What wouldn’t he give to pull you closer, to bring your body right up against his so he can press a kiss to your rainy forehead, staring into your eyes as you gaze back with the same love that he holds for you? What wouldn’t he give to sway you gently in the downpour, water soaking your clothes as he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder and simply stays there, soaking in the love of someone he cares for with all that is left of his heart?

But with no reciprocation must come restraint, and after centuries of life (or death, depending on how he thinks of it), he’s well-versed in the skill. Daeyeol loves you and you know this, but he’s also made it clear that he will never pressure you into an answer, will never force himself onto you no matter how long he must wait. He’s lived for centuries. He can wait a little longer for a reply to his confession, be it favorable or unfavorable, as long as you allow him to stay by your side.

You twirl around, eyes squinted nearly shut with laughter. A few feet away from Daeyeol, you stop and turn back to him with a look simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar, unfamiliar in that he hasn’t seen it on your face, but familiar in that he has seen it on his when Joochan drew that portrait of him staring at an off-canvas you, the softest glint of love in his eyes.

Love.

Real love.

But this time in your eyes, not his.

Daeyeol’s breath stutters in his throat. Hope rises in his chest, makes him feel an artificial warmth in his cold face and if he were still human his heart would be fluttering, pounding, racing as he returns your gaze –

But the look disappears in a second, replaced by a much more familiar expression of simple joy and laughter as you tromp through the puddles to brush a wet clump of hair out of Daeyeol’s face. Your fingers, though cold, send warm tingles up his spine. “It’s not fun if you just stand there and let the rain pour all over you, you know,” you reproach, eyes sparkling.

Cold disappointment eats through the previous warmth in his chest but Daeyeol swallows it down. He was probably seeing things, probably projecting his feelings onto you in a way that wasn’t real. And even if he wasn’t, just because you feel similarly doesn’t mean you’re ready to say it just yet. No sense in hoping or probing.

Daeyeol allows his lips to tilt in a little pout. “I just don’t want you to get sick,” he says, braving a hand to uselessly wipe rain off your face. “Come on, it’s been a few minutes. You need a shower and I need to cook dinner.”

You grumble a little but the reminder of warm food convinces you to escape the rain. Daeyeol lingers behind slightly as you head into the apartment lobby, gazing wistfully at your back.

No. He shakes his head. This is enough. All of it is enough. It is enough that you allow him to stay, enough that you welcome him into your apartment every day even if you rescind the invitation at night. It is enough that you accept his feelings even if you need more time for an answer, treasuring the heart he’s entrusted you even if you’re not yet ready to offer your own. Because even though you’re the only one for him, the only one who’s made him wish his heart could beat not just for life but for love since he was turned so many centuries ago, the only thing that matters to Daeyeol is your comfort and your happiness.

For as long as a genuine smile remains etched on your face, Daeyeol can find peace in your joy.

. . . . .

His hair is still slightly damp from the shower when the clock strikes midnight several hours later and Daeyeol looks up from his perch on the couch, frowning over his glasses at the two clock hands that signal his time to leave.

You look up too, squinting over your laptop at the clock. Daeyeol takes the moment to focus on the way your eyes still shine through the tiredness on your face. It’s a far cry from the rainy exuberance you wore a few hours ago, but it’s just as beautiful in a quieter, softer way.

A smile spreads over his lips, wide but a little sad, too. With this stolen moment of silent admiration comes the knowledge that it’s time for you to rescind your welcome, for him to make the lonely walk up one floor to his own apartment, for him to slide between cold sheets that won’t grow warm because his blood doesn’t flow and attempt to sleep while imagining you in his embrace. The next day will come sooner the faster he falls asleep, Daeyeol knows, and the sooner the next day comes the sooner he gets to see you, but that doesn’t seem to compute when all he wants is to feel your warmth by his side.

“I should go,” he says quietly, closing his literature textbook as he stands.

You nod, yawning. The urge to walk over and kiss your forehead is almost overwhelming but Daeyeol resists, only reaching out to pat your head softly as he passes by. “Mm, it’s late.”

Do you lean into his touch? Daeyeol doesn’t know. You’re always careful with your actions, careful in a way Daeyeol wishes you weren’t however much he understands, but this time when Daeyeol touches your face, he can’t help but hope you might have leaned in slightly, just slightly, even if it was unintentional.

“Goodnight, then.” He stops at the door to put on his shoes.

“Goodnight, Daeyeol.” You smile, though your eyes glint with a little something that looks like a mix of worry and… excitement? “Sweet dreams.”

He lingers a moment longer, debating whether or not to ask you if something’s wrong. Worry isn’t exactly characteristic in your expression, and even less so is the mixture of anxious excitement burning softly in your eyes. But he stops himself. It’s late, after all, and if you still look the same way in the morning, he can ask then when you aren’t so tired. His other shoe goes on and he swings open the door, glancing back one last time as you wave from the table.

One foot out the door, then the other. Daeyeol begins to close the door.

Then his eyes widen and he swings it back open before he can even comprehend his brief thought.

You don’t look surprised when he stumbles back into the apartment, clutching the doorknob so hard he knows it’ll break between his fingers if he doesn’t loosen his grip soon. If anything, a little smile curves your lips, shy and anticipating but gleeful, too, excited and glinting with a warmth that Daeyeol recognizes from Joochan’s portrait –

“You didn’t rescind your invitation," he breathes. “Did you –” he swallows, not wanting to consider the painful possibility but forcing it through his mouth even as hope blooms vibrant and full in his chest – “did you forget?”

The second it takes for you to open your mouth is excruciating, but his patience is rewarded when shake your head and smile. “No,” you reply, standing up. Daeyeol can barely breathe as you step forward, closer, eyes sparkling. “I didn’t.”

You’re close, so close that Daeyeol would barely need to move to slide an arm around you, to pull you into his chest and bury his face in your shoulder the way he wanted to so badly in the rain. He could lift his head, press soft kisses to your neck and jaw and cheek, moving towards your forehead and nose and then your lips –

Two warm arms wrap around his waist and Daeyeol stops breathing for real. Your body presses into his and Daeyeol winces slightly, wondering how you’ll react when you feel the distinct lack of a heartbeat beneath his shirt. But you don’t so much as flinch, only look up with a slightly uncertain expression when Daeyeol goes rigid beneath your touch. “Is this okay?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes,” Daeyeol replies, voice slightly choked for breath. “Yes, it’s everything I’ve – just –” He swallows. “Is this what you want? It’s not… not just because of how I feel, is it?”

At that, your expression relaxes, worry melting into exasperated affection. “Of course not,” you murmur, arms tightening around his body. Daeyeol almost gasps at the muted warmth that seeps through his shirt, rushing up his skin. “I trust you. I should’ve trusted you a long time ago, really. You’ve only ever treated me with love and care. You’ve never done anything remotely threatening to me and…” You lift your head from his skin and look at him with shining eyes. “I don’t believe you ever will.”

He moves, then, arms curving around your waist with maybe a bit too much strength but he grants himself a brief reprieve from years of constant restraint, allows himself to bring you close, close, closer as he tucks himself into your warmth, closing his eyes in bliss as your breath tickles his skin. “You had every right not to trust me,” he corrects you, murmuring into your ear. “I don’t blame you. When a vampire shows up in your life and you catch him feeding, of all things…”

“Still, Daeyeol.” His name takes a new nuance, spoken from your lips with love. “You’ve never done anything to me or anyone, really, not on purpose. You’ve only been loving and gentle and kind, and I trust you enough to give you my love.”

To give you my love. Besides his name from your voice and your laugh, Daeyeol has never heard anything lovelier to his ears. “I’ll treasure it,” he promises, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. He delights in the little shiver that races up your spine. “Forever.”

“As I treasure yours.” You pull back, smiling wide. “Do you want to stay the night?”

. . . . .

Somehow, Daeyeol ends up in your room, sitting on the bed uncertainly as he waits for you to come out of the bathroom. He doesn’t really know what to do – actually, what will you be okay with him doing? Will you allow him to curl into your warmth the way he yearns to, or will you want to maintain some space?

Your voice startles him out of his thoughts. “Daeyeol, I’m not going to bite,” you say, looking slightly amused as you reach around him to pull open the blankets. “That’s your job. Come on, get in or I’ll make you get up to turn off the lights instead.”

Like a child, Daeyeol slides between the sheets, letting you drop them back over him before switching off the lights. The room descends into darkness lit only by a sliver of the moon through the window as you settle into bed next to him, pulling the blankets over you both.

An arm slips under him and Daeyeol almost forgets how to breathe again when you bring yourself closer under the blankets, resting your head against his chest. “Is this okay?” you whisper, voice tickling his skin.

It’s okay. More than okay. Much more than okay. So Daeyeol just nods, pushing away the urge to take off his shirt and feel your warmth directly on his skin rather than through his clothes. It’s your first night in the same bed. You’d probably be uncomfortable. “Yes.”

“Liar.” You shift in the bed, the moon illuminating your face just enough that Daeyeol can see the eyebrow you’ve raised. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I can stop if you want.”

Daeyeol shakes his head as best he can. “No, no. I just…”

“Hm?”

To hell with it. Daeyeol swallows. “When I’m not around you, I feel cold,” he says. For heaven’s sake, if he was a human, his cheeks would be burning. “But when I am, I finally feel warm. And I…” He sighs. “I’d rather feel your warmth directly, rather than through my clothes.”

“… So you want to take off your shirt.”

His ears would also be red. “Yes. But if you’re uncomfortable –”

“No, it’s fine.” Your eyes look a little shy but it’s too dark for Daeyeol to really tell. “Come on, make yourself comfortable. I’m fine with it.”

“Are you sure? I –”

“Daeyeol.” You look up to face him fully as you smile wide. “Yes. I’m sure.”

The shirt falls to the floor and you pull yourself close once more. Daeyeol sighs as your warmth seeps through his skin, sending pleasant tingles all throughout his body as he curls into you, closing his eyes in delight. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Of course.” You shift slightly and Daeyeol blinks, ready to adjust to whatever position you find yourself in, but you only level your face with his, smiling brighter than the stars peeking through the window. “Do you mind…?”

It takes Daeyeol a moment to understand what you’re asking but when he does, he doesn’t bother giving you a verbal answer in favor of kissing you, eyes fluttering shut in bliss as you press back. His arm falls to your waist, curving over your body and bringing you closer as his other hand rises to caress your cheek. You sigh into his lips, your own fingers reaching up to tangle softly through his hair.

You break away for air, then kiss once, twice, three times more before it feels okay to stop. Daeyeol blinks slowly when you pull away the last time. His hand is still on your cheek and he rubs absentminded circles on your skin, soaking in the way you lean into his touch, and in that moment, he knows he could spend centuries waiting for your lips if it meant he would feel them, warm against his own, just once in a millennium.

“I love you,” you whisper, breath soft against his bare skin. Your eyes are fluttering shut but you keep them open, barely, just enough for Daeyeol to see the loveliness of your gaze before you close them fully for sleep.

He curls in closer to press a quiet kiss to your forehead. You don’t flinch from his cold touch, only sigh briefly before allowing your lips to curve sweetly, gently, as your eyes close. “I love you too,” he murmurs, kissing you softly one last time before settling into your touch.

Your skin bleeds heat into his, makes him feel a little more whole, a little more full, a little less like a blank, immortal vessel for the first time in centuries. It makes him feel as though his heart could beat again, could pump blood through his dead veins and turn him human once more. But even then, even if it can’t, it’s okay. As long as Daeyeol has you, as long as he can love you fully and feel the warmth of your affection in return, he’ll be happy, happier than he ever thought possible since the day he was turned.

Daeyeol smiles, pulling the blankets more securely around you as your breath evens into sleep.

He already feels warmer.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for Daeyeol to keep this warmth :D he deserves it)

[xtodorcki]

“Darkness,” Shigaraki x Reader

Summary: getting sucked into the League of Villains

Yandere Shigaraki ?????????

Warnings: none

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The darkness.

The darkness was all you saw as you went down the alleyway, the lingering feeling of loneliness and betrayal as your feet hit the wet pavement below you.

You kept your hood over your head to protect your face, you didn’t want to risk being seen and arrested as the villain you are.

But the way your heart ached, you didn’t want to be like this. You just got sucked in and you managed to try and escape Shigaraki’s hold on you but he’ll be out searching and yanking you back in.

He used you to his advantage because of your devotion to him. The amount of love you carried for him, he used it all as the selfish man he was. He didn’t care about you, he didn’t care about anyone. You were a game piece.

That is until he paid close attention to your actions, to your feelings and suddenly it had hit him. He’s never had someone show him this amount of love and dedication, it turned him into a lovesick puppy when it came to you.

It was overbearing at times, the way he would absolutely kill anyone or anything for you. He’ll do everything in his power to make it known he was deeply in love with you.

And you just needed to escape. You needed space.

Dabi had crossed your mind many times but even though he was more of a friend to you than Tomura, he wouldn’t hesitate to snitch out your location to the boss and have you tortured for escaping once again.

The rain began to sprinkle down, the clouds making it look much more darker as the moon hid behind the storm. You felt cold but it was better than being under his cold stare, under his cold gentle touches.

You loved him but he was starting to suffocate you.

Your mind settled on one of your good friends that didn’t live too far. Tomura didn’t know this friend so it was a good place to go to and hide for a bit until you were ready to go back.

As your feet splashed against the small rain puddles, walking up the small staircase to their doorstep. You raised your fist, knocking on the door and glanced around to see if anyone was watching, if anyone was following you- it wouldn’t be unusual if there was someone watching your every move.

Suddenly the door opened, catching your friends gaze and they practically dragged you inside the warm house.

“What are you doing here? Are you okay?” They asked as they looked over your current state, you were a mess and soaked.

You shrugged, taking off your sweater that was damp and they had taken it to go throw it in the dryer as you stepped over to the couch and took a seat.

“Sorry just need a place to stay for the night or two.” You lightly chuckled, shaking your head at the thought of it- this was madness.

“Of course, I’ll go get some clothes and towels for you.”

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The night went on, you ended up falling asleep in the spare bedroom until you were woken up by a sudden crash down the hallway. The sound made your body jolt up on the bed, glancing over at the shadow that stood in the doorway.

“It’s not nice to run off without a word.” The familiar voice spoke and your heart dropped as he stepped closer, the only light was the tv but you could make out his face.

Once he was in front of the bed you were laying on, all you could see was him soaked in blood and it had made you gasp, knowing what he did and you moved yourself to back away from him.

“Tomura.. what did you do?” Your voice was shaky, you were terrified, you never seen him act this crazy and you were genuinely scared for your life.

“I did what I had to, c’mon you’re coming home.” His voice was gentle yet you can sense the crazy tone on his tongue with a bit of sarcasm as he reached his hand out towards you.

“You just killed my friend in cold blood and you want me to go home with you? Are you fucking insane?” You stared at him in disbelief and his mood quickly changed.

His blood boiled at your attitude, calling him insane wasnt the smartest idea as he grabbed your arm and yanked you towards his soaked body, the tears falling from your eyes and it had made him soften up. His bloody thumb swiped your tears away along with smearing blood on your cheek.

“Y/N.. I love you with all my heart. Now let’s go.” He didn’t take no for an answer, he lifted your body up and over his shoulder as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“Keep fighting and I’ll just have to destroy your ankles.” This was the first time he threatened you with his quirk, making you stop squirming and accept defeat.

The way down the hallway and out of the house, all you saw was blood everywhere. It was on the walls, the floor, even on the ceiling and you were horrified. Sure you were a villain, you have killed before but Tomura was just acting completely out of character.

He laughed to himself, walking out of the house and throwing you into the passenger side of the car, mumbling under his breath but you couldn’t make out the words he was saying as he got in the drivers seat.

His body turned towards you, grabbing a hold of your chin as he kept his pinky raised and smashed his lips on your roughly. The way his rough skin brushed on yours, it made you sick to your stomach especially after what he had done. He noticed your tensed up state, pulling from yours mouth and gave you a pout.

“C’mon, baby. No need to be so upset, everything I do is for you.”

“Killing my friend wasn’t for me. You did it for your own satisfaction.” You mumbled, watching him give you a evil grin and patted your cheek playfully before he started to drive down the road.

“Maybe but I have to admit, losing you is something I don’t ever want to deal with. You’re stuck with me! Where’s that love and devolution you had for me when I wasn’t interested in you, hm? Now that I give back the same feelings, it’s like you’re uninterested.” He raised his voice slightly, making you glance over at him and he started to laugh to himself.

You’ll always love Tomura but not once did you even think about being this insanely in love with him. You’ll admit that at points you would kill for him but would it be one of his friends? No, it would more likely his enemies or someone in the way of his plans and success. This was different and he couldn’t even see that.

“Tomura..” You felt the sadness washing over you, you didn’t know what to do at this point and you didn’t want to set him off and push him to kill you to because deep down, he would if he needed to.

The car abruptly stopped in front of the hideout, sighing under your breath as you willingly got out of the car and stepped inside of the place. Some of the villains were still awake, their eyes turning towards you and Tomura’s bloody state.

“Bedroom.” He mumbled towards you and you nodded as you walked past everyone, not even bothering to say a thing.

You were upset, defeated, sad and angry but there wasn’t much you could do. You were stuck, you were sucked back in his tight grasp and even though your heart ached for Tomura, you wish he would snap out of it and be who he was before.

Once you stepped inside his bedroom, you kicked your shoes off and went to go sit in the chair that was in the corner of the room, Tomura was close behind you but he turned into the connected bathroom and turned on the shower, acting as if nothing had happened.

“Come here.” He ordered you, making you hesitate before rising up and following him inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You remained silent as he took off your clothes, you wanted to cry, you wanted to scream at him but there was no use. None of it would make a difference, you just put up with it. You let him bring you inside the shower with him, feeling the hot water run down your body and your eyes stared at the tiled wall until he grabbed onto your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I just want you here with me, that’s all.” It was like he was answering the questions inside your head, like he was reading your mind.

“Instead of suffocating me, you could simply communicate and love me properly.” You whispered, your sad eyes staring up into his and a smile came across his lips.

“What’s the fun in that? Thought you loved the chase.” He ran his rough fingertips up, combing your wet hair back from your face, admiring you almost.

Tomura had given you a genuine look, full of love, full of kindness and full of hope. You couldn’t help but get sucked back into his loving stare, your knees getting weak and that’s when you knew how truly insane you are- to still be here, not phased as the blood washes from his body.

“Just don’t run off again.” He said quietly, his wet hair falling over his eyes and you stood there, remaining silent.

All you did was nod your head, reaching up to caress his face and you hesitated before slipping your arms around his neck and embracing him in a tight hug.

This was toxic, you knew it was but the warmth you felt when he was his normal loving self was the reason why you loved him so much.

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I wanted to write Shigaraki as more crazy and lovesick but I’ll probably do another one along the line, this one turned pretty cute.

• Main Masterlist •

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[hoshiwilluploadstuff]

Once || Levi X Reader ||

Once || Levi X Reader ||

Summary: “I never stood a chance, did I?” She whispered loud enough for the Corporal to hear. He paused and lowered the paper in his hands to look at her. “That’s the sad part- you did once.”

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Major character death, angst, sad

There was just eerie silence in the field. The air felt stale and empty while she stood there. (F/n) wondered why she was even there in the first place, but the wet droplets reminded her the reason. She raised her hand to wipe off the wetness from her flushed cheeks. However, the wetness never dried. It just kept on coming.

(F/n) found herself keeling over and sobbing in the grass. The stale air made her choke and cough. Still, she kept sobbing. Why was she even feeling like this? Why was she hurting over someone she never had a chance to be with?

Being trapped within these walls- her shimmering, (e/c) eyes flickered to the towering walls. It made her feel choked up. And she needed to breathe.

She thought she could breathe with him. They shared the same sentiment.

She thought their feelings would mold into something extraordinary- to escape this damn society of theirs.

And yet, here she was, crying her eyes out and clenching the grass for air. For fresh air.

“(F/n)?! Are you alright?” The voice was gentle and filled with worry. She would have felt at ease at the concern. If it had been someone else. She shifted her glare from the walls to the woman jogging over to her.

Petra Ral.

The name made her grit her teeth with disdain, but she stopped herself from screaming for air. She got up from the grass and wiped off the remaining tears that trickled down her stained cheeks.

“Yea. I just needed air.” Her voice was sharp and emotionless. And so were her eyes for the matter. Her eyelids lowered into a half-lidded gaze and shifted over to the worried, brown eyes of her comrade in arms.

“Oh…” Petra scratched her arm in discomfort, shifting from one foot to the other. “…I was looking for you…”

(F/n) scoffed and looked to the side. Her fingers scraped through her scalp in irritation. “And why? What else are you going to take from me?” She meant the bitterness of the sentence and was satisfied by the jump from her companion.

The woman before her frowned and pursed her lips. “Levi…doesn’t belong to you, (F/n).”

The low flame in her gut flared at the statement. She snarled, teeth gnashing with anger. “I was talking about my family, Ral.” She said her name with much hatred she could muster. The moment her eyes widened in realization, (F/n) began to berate her.

“What? Do you think I didn’t know? That you pushed my brother to a titan just to save your own pathetic excuse of a life?” The memory was so vivid and it only made the flames in her gut stronger. The screams of help rang in her ears on repeat, continually reminding her of her strong vengeance. The fear in Petra’s eyes was adding fuel to the fire, making her more enraged.

And she just needed air.

“How does it feel, huh, Ral?” She hissed, eyes narrowing to a sharp, threatening glare. “That the man we love doesn’t belong to either of us.” The gasp was almost like a cold splash of water over her fanning flames.

And finally, she could breathe.

Petra gritted her teeth and tried to slap her face, but it didn’t hit her at all.

“So, what did you come here for?” She calmed down, but the anger was still directed at the brunette.

Petra stumbled on her words. “C-Corporal…is looking for you.”

(F/n) clicked her tongue and stalked away, passing by the trembling woman with her head held high. It felt fulfilling that she managed to drag Petra down to the level of trash where she belonged to.

The stale air returned almost immediately once she walked to Levi’s office. Her movements felt stiff and her lungs begged for air. Still, her face was emotionless and her eyes were blank. There was no hesitation in her movements whatsoever as she knocked on his door.

“Come in.” His voice was quip and sharp from the other side of the door. she immediately entered and saluted.

“Corporal, you called.” There was no question whatsoever. Their blank eyes locked and she felt the staleness in the air evaporate. It made her stiff shoulders lower in relaxation and her thin line of a lips quirk into a smile.

He smiled back, a small smile that made her heart flutter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

She finally breathed and nodded. Her walk over to the chair situated in front of his desk was quick. She wanted this over and done with so that she could return to her monotonous lifestyle.

(F/n) knew what he was going to say.

“You want it to stop between us.” She had said it before he could. His eyes widened briefly before closing and letting out a relieving sigh.

“Yes.” It was blunt and it hurt, but at the same time she felt the burden on her shoulders elevate and the space in her heart filled. His eyes opened to look over her in concern, but she smiled at him.

“Who?” She asked. Her voice was careful and curious, but the sadness was there.

“She sells tea in District Trost.” His silver, cold eyes became warm and longing and it squeezed her heart.

There was a thick, but not awkward silence between them. (F/n) found herself wondering just a little bit.

“I never stood a chance, did I?” She whispered loud enough for him to hear.

He paused and lowered the paper in his hands to look at her. “That’s the sad part- you did once.”

Her eyes briefly widened before closing. She laughed softly. “And what about Ral?”

Levi grunted. “Only you, (F/n). You made me feel something.”

It made her smile, a truly genuine smile. “What happened?”

He closed his eyes and brushed his fingers through his hair. “You died.” (F/n) closed her eyes and leaned against his desk, reaching out to touch him, but she could never.

Levi looked at the frame before him. It was the last picture she drew for him. For both of them. He was glaring at her while she was smiling up at him. She was still bad at sketching- promising to practice more when they got back. Still, it looked exactly like the both of them. The pain in his heart squeezed the remnants of his strength, but the sight of her smile made him return to his work.

He could hear Petra’s cries even from inside his office. He could even hear Eld’s comforting her. The last expedition only had two of his squadron killed.

(F/n) (L/n) and her older brother, (B/n) (L/n). Thanks to their sacrifice, they were able to go further from the walls.

And just once, he felt there might be hope for humanity after all. And maybe, in the near future, he could introduce his lover to (F/n) and wish for her blessings.

With that renewed glow, he returned to finishing up his paperwork.