#if enough of you commission me to do so I’ll finally be able to afford a platform to play the game on lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpjeon · 5 years

Text

SEHEBON ― KTH (M.)

synopsis. you find yourself on izo huen, home to the sehebon. luckily for you, you've arrived at an interesting time.

pairing. taehyung/reader genre. angst, fluff, smut au. alien!au wordcount. 16,580 contents. Huge Dick Tae, cocky!tae, soft!tae, protective!tae, lowkey possessive!tae, human!kink, slight harrassment, dom/sub themes, size kink, size difference, sensitivity kink?, orgasm kink?, cunt slapping, breath play, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering, cumflation, belly bulging, lowkey consent kink, unrealistic sex but it’s aliens what do u expect, lots of mention of humanity note. tae just wants to learn human things ):

blog masterlist. made of stardust masterlist.

It had been a little over a half a year since your move to the Vela System of the Fanet IV Galaxy courtesy of the Interplanetary Relations Commission had begun. You were still adjusting to your new environment, Izo Huen being a vastly different place compared to Earth in terms of culture and climate.

"So, to wrap up the events of this past week," you shifted in your chair, staring into the lens of the camera you used to send reports to your superiors, "I met with the head of the Embassy for a dinner in order to meet the head of Izo Huen's military. The only way I can describe the whole interaction is...tense. Warrior Sehebon are truly another level of terrifying. Horrible burns across their bodies correlate with the information we had about their rituals. They wear the burns with pride, however ― a mark of bravery I suppose. The middle of the week was rather uneventful," you shifted in your seat, leaning over just out of frame to take a sip of your water. You stared at the arched ceiling, thinking of anything that could come to mind of importance to note. Outside your window, you could see people walking through the streets, laughing and chatting with one another.

"Oh!" you sat up straight again, "The monthly market came back once again. This time it was mostly vendors from Liana. They had the most amazing fruits I'd ever seen ― nothing like Earths. They were delicious too, so sweet. I wish I could send some back for everyone to be able to taste. You know," your gaze shifted out your window again, to the people bustling about, "Things got really hectic here in Fia recently, I don't know what it is. They're hanging banners up and there seems to have been an extreme increase in population of the city. I'm not completely sure what's going on."

After ending your weekly log and sending it to your fellow researchers on Earth, you downed the rest of your water and groaned. Izo Huen was sweltering hot, the two suns that hung in the sky upping the temperature past comfortable.

You couldn't wait for night to come, the freezing cold giving you a wonderful excuse to cuddle under the wool blankets.You decided to take a bath to pass the time, as it would be night in just a few hours. Plus, you desperately wanted to wash the days grime off your body.

By the time you woke up the next day, you were acutely aware of how incredibly loud it was outside. Shouts and cheers emanated from just outside your window. So with sleep-filled eyes you hurriedly dressed yourself and rushed out to see what the fuss was all about.When you stepped out of the door, you were shocked by the incredible crowd of people filling the streets.

Banners and streamers, even balloons, decorated every inch that could be covered. The alphabet was one you hadn't yet learned to decipher so the meanings were completely lost on you.

"Excuse me?" you asked a nearby woman. She was much taller than you ― a key trait in both men and women of their race. She turned and looked down at you with surprise in her eyes, "What's going on?"

"It's the pre-celebration," she answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She turned her back to you once again and quickly disappeared into the crowd and you sighed. Sehebon citizens were still getting used to their planet being visited by other races outside their own solar system ― they were the newest planet to be opened for visits by the Interplanetary Commission.

It unfortunately resulted in some of the citizens to hold ill feelings towards those entering their cities.

Sighing, you decided to follow the flow of the crowd to appease your own rabid curiosity. A lot of the cultural information on Sehebon had yet to be discovered or disclosed, as a race that held their own traditions close to their hearts.

You were surprised that the place everyone was flocking to was the massive Colosseum that was centered in the very middle of the city. Larger than any stadium found on Earth, you'd never had the opportunity to find out what it was for.

In your excitement to get through the crowd of large Sehebon, you stumbled over your own feet and hit the ground hard ― knocking the air out of you. The crowd didn't wait, stepping over you and for a second you were scared you would be literally crushed under a stampede.

However, strong hands grabbed your arms and lifted you up, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the crowd. You stumbled trying to catch up, with his large steps while trying not to end up slammed into unsuspecting people.

The person tugging you pulled you out of the crowd and rounding the stone walls until you realized the amount of people had dissipated. You had the opportunity to look at the person who had helped you ― a male Sehebon finding a safe spot for you and finally slowing down.

"I...thank you," you muttered when he didn't say anything, his back still facing you.

"You're a human right?" he asked, finally turning to you. You choked on your own spit at the sight of him ― black hair hanging over two pretty dark eyes. He was tall, probably a little above average for his race and he was absolutely gorgeous, "I heard there was one staying in Fia but...damn."

"Uh...I'm an advocate for the Interplanetary Commission," you sputtered out, unable to break your gaze away from his face. He had tanned skin, smooth as could be with a jaw so sharp it could cut glass, "I'm from Earth, yes. My name is _____."

"Incredible," he moved closer, having to lean down to look at you how he wanted. You could feel his breath on your face and you could see the way he had one mono-lid and one double ― which was absolutely adorable, "My name is Taehyung...you know, you're so...small."

"I-I'm actually quite average," you refuted, glancing away under the power of his gaze.

"Maybe by human standards but..." he straightened up, looking around, "You should be careful. You can get hurt easily, you're lucky I saw you fall and bothered to help you."

"Bothered..." you whispered with a soft scoff. You could still feel his eyes on you, burning into you as if he was analyzing every inch of you, "Hey, so what's going on anyway?"

"You don't know?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow when you shook your head.

"I asked someone and she just said it was a pre-celebration," you shrugged.

"Yeah sort of," Taehyung gnawed at the inside of his cheek, jaw cocking to one side at the action, "It's gonna be our lottery in a few days so we come to the stadium to get our tickets."

"Wait...lottery? Like a money thing?" you asked, "You guys have that?"

"What?" Taehyung shook his head, staring at you like you were stupid and you suddenly felt embarrassed.

"O-On Earth we have this thing called a lottery and...you scratch these little papers and you can win money," you explained, hoping to help him make sense of you assumption.

"Huh, that's interesting," he actually did seem interested and maybe a little impressed, making you feel weirdly proud, "But no, that's not what we have. Once a year the government holds a lottery here in Fia, in the stadium. You draw and if your number is picked you gotta fight."

His words made you blank out.

Fight?

They had to fight?

"What the hell?" you sputtered before you could stop yourself and Taehyung cocked his head to the side.

"Have you not read any of the banners and information sheets floating around?" he asked, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, "They put them up to inform new visitors of what's going on, you know."

"I..." you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed again, "Can't read the alphabet."

Taehyung went quiet for a minute before he snorted, beginning to laugh way too much for the simple problem you had. Your cheeks burned as he held his stomach, no doubt aching from how hard he was laughing.

"Oh my gosh!" he choked, wiping under his eyes, "Y-You're illiterate!"

"I am not illiterate!" you gasped, ears beginning to burn now at his accusation, "I-I just haven't had a need to read the alphabet! Since we speak the same language, you know?!"

"Okay, okay," he sniffled, finally calming down from his outburst. He looked down at you and cooed, placing his hand on your head, "Aw, don't-don't pout, I'm sorry. You're so cute!"

"St-Stop making fun of me!" you whined, petulantly stomping your foot which just made him coo more at you, calling you cute.

"I'm not making fun of you!" he argued, standing at his full height again, making you look up, "Isn't it only natural that I find the small little human girl cute? You're so...small."

"So you keep saying," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, "Are you going to go into the stadium?"

"Yeah, probably a little while later," he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, "It'll calm down soon enough and it'll be less hectic. You're welcome to wait with me, if you'd like."

"I might as well," you sighed, leaning back so you rested your shoulder against the wall, "I'll probably literally be killed if I try to go in there at this point."

"Probably," he agreed, looking away from you when you squinted up to glare at him, "Say..." He looked back at you, head cocked to the side curiously, "Is it true Earth has a lot of oceans? And only one Sun?"

"Eh? Yeah, that's right," you nodded, making him hum, "You've never been to Earth?"

"Nah, can't afford to make that trip," he sighed, sliding down the side of the wall to sit on the ground, "I read about it when the news that we'd be open for visits from them, though. Here sit," he tugged your hand until you were finally sitting beside him.

"About this...fight," his head lulled to the side as he gazed at your through his lashes, "What...why do you guys do it? How's it work?"

"Well," he rested his hands on his bent knees, head resting against the wall behind him again, "You know majority of our planet is uninhabitable right?"

"Yeah, dominated by deadly deserts that will kill even Sehebon," you replied mechanically, having studied their landscape immensely on your voyage from Earth.

"Then you also know there's only a few, select places suitable for us to live," you nodded and he continued, "We have three cities on Izu Huen, Fia our capitol, Veles, and Holis. That isn't a lot of room for an entire planet to live, right? We have to stay within the habitable zone and fit every person on the planet in the cities. Excluding those that have the means to move to Vimoldara, that is. That's a lot of people, isn't it?"

"Wait," you sat up straighter, jaw dropping open, "You mean, it's a form of population control?"

"That and," his gaze turned much darker, sending a chill up your spine, "It's a chance for us to show each other how strong we are. That we're the best and we deserve to live, we offer more. Those who lose are killed and only the winner can stand."

"That's..." you cleared your throat uncomfortably, "That's scary."

"Not for us," Taehyung shrugged, casting a sideways glance your way, "It's a celebration. We're all excited and ready to do it. We get to make our families and ancestors proud as we fight."

You hummed, still weary of the lottery but kept the rest of your opinions to yourself. You and Taehyung dissolved into talking about things he was curious about on Earth, deciding it would be worth it to travel there simply after hearing what a cheeseburger was.

The suns began to set when Taehyung stood, helping you to your feet.

"We should be able to get in easily now," you followed him to the large entrance that you'd been unable to see past when you had first approached.

With the smaller influx of people, you could see fully inside the stadium. There were banners and decorations strewn about everywhere, a wash of white, red and black colors seeming to be the theme. In the very center of the stadium was a booth with a man standing inside, handing things out to the people in line.

"I hope he doesn't think I'm here to pick a lottery," you mumbled to yourself as you stood in line with Taehyung. He was still holding onto your hand as you waited, large fingers wrapping completely around your wrist, making the size difference more apparent.

He really was right when he said you were small. But his hand was so warm and comforting against your skin that it made you feel...cute.

"Nah, they won't assume a foreigner is here to participate," he said, not breaking his gaze from the booth.

By the time you reached the booth, the suns were down to just peeking over the horizon and the moon was, instead, shining large in the sky. The temperature was dropping and you couldn't help but move closer to Taehyung for warmth. You weren’t dressed to be out at night, you’d only anticipated spending the daytime hours out.

"Thank you," he said, tucking a slip of paper into his pocket after folding it up. The man behind the booth nodded, waving the next person forwards.

He began to walk when he paused, looking down at you with wide eyes. You scrambled to detach yourself from his side, not realizing just how close you were to him. However, you were quickly brought back when he pulled you flush against him again with a small smile.

"You humans are so fragile," he breathed, beginning walk, keeping you tucked into his side. Your face was burning with embarrassment but you also felt a strange sense of pride flowing through you at the prospect of such a good looking man treating you like he was.

"I-It just gets really cold here, you know?" you mumbled, trying to defend yourself albeit weakly.

His chest vibrated with his laughter, tightening his hold around your shoulders, "I guess if you're not used to it. You live around here?"

"Uh yeah," you pointed in the general direction of where you were staying, "I live down this road a ways."

"Alright, I'll walk you there," he offered, though he left no option to refuse.

You both fell silent as you walked, every once in a while another person would pass and stare at the two of you. Their eyes followed you even as you passed, turning back to stare at you and you began to feel strange about it.

"Why is everyone looking at us like that?" you asked suddenly, making him look down. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his face causing the shadow of his lashes to dust his cheeks.

"Probably because you're a human and you're with me," he answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world, "It's not exactly common for Sehebon and foreigners to be together yet."

You swallowed thickly, cheeks burning for the thousandth time that day it seemed.

It wasn't long before you reached the stoop of your house and you dislodged yourself from Taehyung, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep in the warmth you now missed.

"Um thanks for walking me home," you said, shrugging your shoulders self-consciously as his eyes scanned over your body.

"It was my pleasure," he leaned closer to you, "Hey, why don't you come to the celebration in a couple days, hm?"

"You mean the fighting?" you asked, feeling uneasy at the invitation. He nodded eagerly, eyes bright in excitement, "Taehyung, I do understand it's an important practice for you...it's your culture. But humans and Earth...it's punishable to kill someone. It's against the law. We find the concept of death scary...you know?"

His head cocked to the side, brows furrowed and the excitement in his eyes gone, "You're scared to die? And you don't like to see others die?"

"Exactly, it's...it's a very negative thing for humans," you attempted to explain while trying not to upset him.

"You know being invited to a fight is a very special thing," he muttered with a frown, leaning close to you so his nose was touching yours. Your eyes grew wide at the fire burning in his eyes and you swallowed nervously, "It's very offensive to reject an invitation to a fight. I want to show you how good I am, how well I can fight. I want you to be proud of me. Impressed by me."

Your mouth grew dry at his words and the way he uttered them, deep voice dark and no hint of the gentleness he had spoken with before. You attempted to move back but found your back pressed against the door. He loomed over you, leaning on his forearms above your head ― caging you in. Strangely, the only thing you could think of was how good he smelled; like the fruits you'd eaten a couple days ago.

"I-I'm sorry, Taehyung," you whispered, licking your lips in an effort to rid yourself of your nerves, "I just...Y-You don't need to kill someone t-to impress me, you know?"

"Then how can I?" he squinted, "I find you fascinating. A cute little human girl, smart and charming. I want to...what is it you humans call it...court you?"

You wanted to smile at the sound of the outdated term he used. But it was stopped by his confession, of what he thought of you.

"W-Well...you're trying to court a human girl..." you spoke slowly, meeting his eyes in faux confidence even though your heart was beating a mile a minute, "Why don't you try...a human method?"

"A human method," he gnawed on the inside of his cheek ― apparently a habit he had while thinking, "What are human methods?"

"Well um..." you noticed that with his body covering yours like it was, you weren't affected by the cold and that your trembles were no doubt excitement, "Like...dates. Do you guys have dates?"

"Usually an invitation to fight for someone to see is sufficient enough to begin a relationship," he explained, making you sigh. He frowned at the sound and leaned closer to you to meet your gaze, "Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"F-For humans usually a man will ask a woman on a date," you explained simply, "Like...you would ask to take me to see a movie or take me to dinner."

"A dinner," he repeated, seeming to mull it over for a moment before nodding. The dark look was gone and he smiled the cutest boxy smile you'd ever seen in your life, "Then I'd like to take you to dinner, _____."

"I'd like that, Taehyung," you smiled, feeling your cheeks burn under his soft gaze.

"After my fight, to celebrate my win I'll take you."

"Alright, Taehyung, I look forward to it," after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes, he finally stood up straight. The cold immediately began to sink into your bones and he stepped back off your stoop.

"See you soon, cutie," he waved, twiddling his fingers before spinning on his heel and walking in the direction you both had just came from.

You opened your front door, slipping inside and relaxing once the warmth hit you. Leaning back against the door, you pressed your hand to your chest and sighed.

"Not how I expected my day to turn out," you mumbled, taking a seat at your chair in front of the camera, turning it on so the red light blinked indicating recording, "I know it hasn't been a week yet but I've found something interesting. I met a man named Taehyung and he told that they're about to begin a planet-wide lottery. Everyone draws a number and they're picked to fight. It's a...form of population control and some kind of cultural flex on each other to show who is the toughest and bravest. The fights are set to take place in a few days and I was invited but...I had to decline. The prospect of watching it was just too much for me to consider so I apologize for that."

You went quiet for a second, deciding to leave out the fact that the invitation was an attempt to ask you out. You greeted the people who would be watched goodbye and shut off the camera, turning to your computer monitor and hurriedly sending the video before shutting everything down.

The city was quiet for the next few days, everyone packed into the stadium. You would frequently hear the thunderous roar of the crowd but ultimately did your best to block out the prospect of the death no doubt going on.

You laid on your bed, reading a book you'd read several times already but lacked the means to acquire a new one. You wouldn't be able to read the books in an alphabet you couldn't read. Though you could take the time to learn but, you were in no mood to study.

As expected, you found yourself thinking of Taehyung. He was charming, no doubt, and you were surprised by how much you ultimately enjoyed his company. It was quick that he decided he wanted to date you, by human standards anyway, but Sehebon were very fast-moving people as more than half their race were warriors who could be killed in the blink of an eye. No doubt a cause for Taehyung's rush to be with you.

You couldn't deny the complete attraction you had for him; he was incredibly good looking and had the cutest smile. His voice was hypnotic, smooth as whiskey and as deep as the ocean. Dating someone of a completely different species wasn't the strangest thing by far ― plenty of humans had counterparts from different races. Dating a Sehebon, on the other hand, was different since the brand new introduction of their race to humans.

There was no fear that Taehyung would bring you any harm or have ill intentions, there was just a lot of confusion about him. You didn't exactly know much about who he was as a person rather than his race.

The date would no doubt clear things up and open doors for you.

Remembering the fact you would be going on a date with him set butterflies off in your tummy and you bit your lip to hold back the gleeful grin that threatened to spread across your face.

It was a full week before the streets became the same again. The population of Fia went back to normal as visitors from other cities left and went back home. The banners were taken down from around your street and before long everything seemed to have returned to the way it was.

Unfortunately, you were running out of food so you needed to go food shopping. As the suns were beginning to set, with the temperature steadily dropping, is when you decided to go shopping.

You slid a sweater on to keep you warm before stepping out the door. It was still a little warm but you knew you'd be grateful for your choice later.

In the past, you'd made the mistake of forgoing something warm and had to quite literally run home before you froze to death.

You carried a bag, an effect from when you lived on Earth and refused to use plastic bags in fear they'd end up in the oceans. When you first presented the bag at the local grocers, the cashier had looked at you like you were stupid ― making you feel just a tad self-conscious.

Fortunately, they'd now grown used to your practice and barely batted an eye in response when you brought.

The shop wasn't busy during that time of day and you were thankful to be able to navigate the aisles without having to avoid the giant Sehebon people that easily blocked your shelf access. You packed your bag with things you were vaguely familiar with. There was a lot of food you didn't dare try ― you couldn't read what it said or it was just gross looking.

Unfortunately, however, the shelves were so damn tall that you sometimes had to scale them to actually reach the things you needed. Standing on your tippy-toes using one of the shelves to grab a simple box of noodles ― something you were very pleased to find on Izo Huen.

You chose a lot of fruits and vegetables ― trusting them more than their alien-meats. You were basically the alien version of a vegetarian at that point.

When you stepped outside, you were immediately grateful of the sweater you wore. The cold still seemed to seep in a bit but it was tolerable despite the light shivers that took you. Carrying your bag, you hummed a tune to yourself as you navigated the darkening streets. The lamps were lit to illuminate your way but there were no other people in sight, making you feel calm.

"Hey, you a human?" scratch that, there were people.

You paused, looking into an alleyway separating two residential streets. A small group of young men were smoking cigarettes. Part of you wondered if they were cigarettes or some Izo Huen-version.

"Yes I'm a human," you replied, pulling your bag off your shoulder to hold it in front of you.

"You want a hit?" one of them asked you, offering you what he was smoking off of.

"N-No thank you," you backed away slightly to get away from the smoke emanating off the burning end, "I really should be getting home...I have things to put away."

You turned to walk away but a hand aggressively gripped your arm to stop you, startling a gasp out of you.

"Hey, that hurts," you mumbled, attempting to tug your arm free but he tugged you closer to him, "Let go!"

Before he had the chance to speak, a hand was violently wrapped around his throat and slammed him back. He pulled you with him slightly, knocking you to the ground as the man was pinned to the wall. Looking up, you could see Taehyung leaning close to him ― whispering something that had the man's eyes widening.

"Do you understand?" Taehyung growled, loud enough for you to hear. The man nodded so hard you were sure he was going to give himself a headache. Taehyung held him still for several more seconds, looking over him to make sure he was telling the truth.

When the man was dropped, he took off down the alleyway with his friends following, none of them daring to look back.

"Are you alright?" he asked, crouching down to where you were sitting on the ground. He cupped your cheek ever so softly, thumb grazing beneath your eye, "I didn't mean for you to get knocked down."

"It's alright," you muttered, using his shoulders to pull yourself back to your feet. He remained crouched for a moment, just gazing up at you silently, "W-What is it?"

"You should be more careful, _____," he said, picking up the bag of groceries you had dropped, tucking some of the things that had been knocked out back in where they belonged, "Didn't I tell you that you could get hurt?"

"W-Well yes but that was different― "

"It wasn't," he snapped, moving close to you once again. Fingers hooked beneath your chin to make you look at him, "Don't you understand how much people want you? How they look at you when you walk around?"

"N-No..." you blinked as you tried to recall any staring while you were on your own.

"Everyone finds you alluring here, _____," Taehyung's voice dropped and he stepped even closer so your foreheads were just barely touching, "The cute little human girl. And I'd be very disappointed if I had to kill someone for hurting you."

You were speechless, lost staring in the fiery blaze within his eyes. He held your gaze for several seconds before stepping back and smiling.

"I'll walk you home, I was on my way to see you anyway," you sputtered in shock as he tugged your hand in the direction of your home ― his rapid change of demeanor no doubt going to give you whiplash.

Your feet pounded the pavement as you struggled to keep up with his large strides. You were running out of breath and stamina, though he appeared unaffected.

"T-Tae...can you s-slow down?" he halted in his tracks so suddenly that you fully ran into his back.

"What did you call me?" he looked over his shoulder, staring sharply down at you.

"I-I..." you pulled yourself away from his back and stuttered, "I called you Tae. I'm sorry i-it just slipped out...h-humans like to make n-nicknames, you know?"

He was quiet for a second before he turned around completely, cocking his head to the side.

"Say it again," he commanded.

"Uh...T-Tae?" the name sounded more awkward than it had before coming out of your mouth.

"Hmm," he made a noise akin to a moan, rolling his head back in response before looking down and smirking, "I like that. You're the only one allowed to call me that, yeah?"

"A-Alright," your heart was racing from the way he had reacted to the nickname but you didn't get to dwell on it long before he was tugging you along once again.

You stood on your stoop again, looking at Taehyung, a small smile on his lips as he watched you. He held your bag of groceries out for you and you had to hold back a gasp when your hand brushed his.

"Shit, your hands are freezing!" he gasped, taking one of your hands in his and bringing them closer to him.

"U-Uh yeah it's...pretty cold," your words came out a whisper, reveling in how warm his hands were against yours.

"Poor thing," your eyes widened as he pulled your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your fingers.

"T-Tae," the nickname had his eyes flicking up and he hummed, pressing another kiss against them.

"Did you like that?" he dropped your hand from his lips but continued to hold it, smiling at you, "I read in a book about common human practices for courting and it said a kiss to the hand will make her heart flutter. Did it work?"

"I..." you swallowed thickly, nodding your head ever so slightly, "I-It was nice, Tae..."

The two of you fell quiet, his hand enveloping yours and his soft gaze fixated on you. Your groceries hung in his free hand and he slowly reached out to hand them to you once again. Once the bag was in your hands, he released your hand from his hold and shoved his own into his pockets. He stepped backwards off the stoop but continued to stare at you, bottom lip tucked in his mouth.

Your eyes danced over his body ― never really looking him over that much besides his face. He had a black button-up tucked into tight fitting jeans and boots that made him even taller than he already was. It surprised you how thick his thighs were but how small his waist was ― it's like he was sculpted by actual gods.

"Well," he smirked, no doubt having caught you staring, "See you around, cutie."

"Hey, Tae wait!" you called before you could stop yourself.

He halted immediately, turning to look at you once again, "You alright?"

"I just..." he jogged back to the stoop, stepping up and moving close to yours.

He cupped your chin between his fingers and made you look up at him.

"You can tell me, sweetheart," his brows were drawn together in concern.

The pet name causing a shiver to go down your spine, "What is it?"

"C-Can...Would you...like to stay for a while?" your cheeks were on fire and you couldn't meet his gaze after whispering the words.

Taehyung's eyes softened and his lips quirked up, running his thumb over your lips for a split second ― so light you almost missed it. He stood up straighter, removing his fingers from your face. You found yourself missing the touch and your heart was pounding at the possible rejection you could face.

"Were you nervous to ask me that, baby?" your core lit on fire at the new pet name and you held in a whimper, "I'd love to stay with you."

"O-Okay..." you reached behind you, turning the knob and pushing the door open.

Warmth hit you from the inside and you scurried out of Taehyung's view as fast as you could to the kitchen. You could hear him walking, the sound of his boots on the floor seeming deafening in the silence of the house. Leaning against the counter, you took a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

You began putting your groceries away in their designated places, noticing that Taehyung's footsteps had gone silent.

"This place given to you by your job?" he asked suddenly, making you jump.

"Um...yeah," you cleared your throat, "It's nothing special but it's cozy."

"It's nice," he muttered before falling silent.

You placed the box of noodles in your cabinet, steeling yourself before moving to the living room. Your brain nearly short-circuited at the sight before you.

Taehyung sat on your couch, legs spread wide and arms stretched out on the back of the couch. His head was tilted back, exposing beautiful expanse of throat. The way he sat was so confident and commanding that you had to clench your thighs together to control yourself.

"Um...are you okay?" you whispered, stepping forward as he lifted his head to look at you.

"I'm perfect," he responded, scooting to the side to allow you to sit beside him, "I think I've figured out a place to take you on our date."

"Oh?" you'd nearly forgotten about the date, "So you're ready to take me?"

"I'm thinking tomorrow, if that's okay," he looked down at you and you smiled.

"I'd love that," your gaze fell to your thighs, noticing the size difference between his and yours ― reminding you of how large he was.

Flicking your eyes up, you were frozen by the sharpness in his own as he stared at you. As you kept his gaze, you felt one of his hands find its way to your thigh and you bit your lip to keep from outright whimpering at the feeling.

"You're so soft," he muttered, shifting to turn more towards you, "And absolutely breathtaking..."

His lips drew closer to yours, his hair brushing your nose as he dipped down. When he pressed them completely, his hand tightened around your thigh. You whimpered, seeming to set Taehyung off as he cupped the back of your head with his free hand ― deepening the kiss.

Your hands clutched at the front of his shirt, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips and hands on you. The hand on your thigh traveled up, grazing your hip, drifting up your stomach and over your breasts before wrapping around your throat. You gasped at the feeling, lips parting from Taehyung's just slightly before you surged back forward to reconnect them.

He groaned against your lips, giving your neck the lightest squeeze before he released you and reached lower to cup your breast through your sweater. You arched your back into the muffled touch but he didn't linger for long because his hand was diving between your legs.

Your jeans impeded you from feeling his touch properly and you whimpered, grinding your hips forward in hopes to remedy the problem. You reached down, holding his hand against your core as you whimpered into his lips.

"Do you want me to touch you, pretty baby?" he asked, kiss parting until your lips just barely brushed his.

"P-Please Tae," you whimpered, feeling your eyes sting with tears of desperation ― having never wanted to be touched so badly in your life.

Taehyung didn't reconnect the kiss, instead he tilted your head back to press his lips to your neck. His long fingers unbuttoned your jeans and hurriedly tugged them off your hips until you finally reached down to pull them off completely, tossing them away.

The way you cried out when his hand cupped you again, this time through your panties, was nothing less than lewd. He tugged your thighs open further, one of them resting across his own, leaving you completely open to his fingers.

"Sound so pretty," he mumbled, teeth grazing your neck where he continued to mouth at you.

You wrapped one hand around his wrist, dragging his fingers up ever so slightly until you were able to push them past the band of your panties. He immediately took over, fingers diving between your folds to find just how wet you were for him. He groaned, pulling away from your neck to meet your gaze, his lips open just slightly as he brushed against your clit. Your hips twitched and you found yourself clinging to his arm as you whined.

"So sensitive, little one," he whispered, wrapping his free hand around your thigh to pull you even closer to him until you were completely in his lap with your back tucked to his chest.

"Tae..." you whispered, eyes fluttering closed when he began to press kisses to your shoulder ― the sweater not allowing you to feel it properly but enjoying it nonetheless.

"Yeah baby?" he cooed, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch his hand move beneath the fabric of your panties.

"C-Can..." you trailed off, feeling your cheeks burn and he tsked.

"Tell me what you want and I'll do it, baby," he assured, fingers now running across your folds without dipping between ― teasing you.

"Can you...take them off?" you asked, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze.

"If that's what you want," he pulled his hand out of your panties and you whimpered at the loss, making him chuckle, "So needy, huh?"

His thumbs hooked into the band and he pushed them down your thighs. You pulled your legs up to help him take them off ― tossing them off somewhere else to join your jeans. He gripped your knees, roughly tugging them open until your cunt was completely exposed to him ― glistening in the dim light and flushed swollen with your arousal.

"Fuck, babygirl..." he breathed, reaching down to run his fingertips through your parted folds, "Such a pretty little pussy, hm?"

Deep in your mind, you wondered where he learned such delicious dirty talk from ― seeing as he didn't even know the proper word for courting. The thought was completely wiped from your mind, however, when he used two fingers to spread your folds open. Your hole clenched around nothing and Taehyung let out a choked groan.

"St-Stop staring!" you whined, snapping your thighs closed around his hand.

Taehyung growled, wrapping his hand around your throat again and pulling the back of your head against his chest. You whimpered, eyes flicking up to briefly catch his glare. His jaw was set, glaring down at you with a gaze that made you feel incredible small.

"Spread your fucking legs," he ordered, tone making your eyes flutter slightly. When you hesitated to do as he said, he leaned closer until his mouth brushed your ear, "I said...spread your legs."

You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you pouted, slowly opening your legs back up. Too slow for his liking, he jerked one open and pinned the other down until you were just as exposed as before. His hand cupped your entire core, middle finger sliding between the folds.

"That's more like it," he sighed, finally releasing your neck, "You better act right, baby, or else I'll have to punish you."

His words made you tremble, thighs twitching ever so slightly. He raised a brow at your reaction, an almost detached look coming across his face.

"Would you like that? To be punished?" when you only whimpered, he smirked, "I see...how would you like it, hm? To be choked until your lungs burn for air? Or maybe if I spanked your little cunt?"

"Tae..." you felt your hole clench, sending a gush of arousal to meet his fingers.

"Oh?" he chuckled, making you cheeks burn, "You'd like to be slapped, huh?"

Before you could even think up a reply from your foggy brain, a sharp pain right against your clit had you crying out. Your eyes found his face but he was watching as he smacked your cunt again. His fingers ran over your folds to soothe the sting and he laughed.

"Interesting..." he hummed, middle finger circling around your clit. Your eyes fluttered and your hips arched into the touch more.

His index and ring fingers spread your folds, his middle finger swirling over the hardened bud until you were moaning. He pulled the hood back, exposing it even more to his sensitive touches. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you choked out his name.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, "Does it feel nice to have your little clit touched?"

"Y-Yes!" you squeaked, reaching down to take hold of his wrist. Your body was practically vibrating as you trembled beneath the almost too much stimulation. Suddenly, his touch was gone and you were left still trembling with the remnants of his fingers lingering.

"It's alright," he cooed, wrapping one of his arms around you to hold you tighter against him, "I've got you, little one."

"Please, Tae," you begged, burying your face into his arm, thighs trembling still spread.

"What is it?" he asked, voice soft as silk.

"Your...Your fingers," you canted your hips up ever so slightly and he hummed.

"Want my fingers inside?" he asked, although he already knew before you nodded.

He hummed, two fingers finding your spasming entrance, coating them in your juices. You held your breath as he finally sunk them inside you, stretching you deliciously even though you were plenty wet enough. His fingers were big, filling you up nice and deep. Gasping against Taehyung's arm, you mindlessly ground your hips up as he slowly pulled them out. You didn't get to mourn their loss for long because he was quickly pushing them back in ― slick sounds accompanying the movement.

"You're so fucking tight," he muttered, "So small...Shit, how long has it been since you've been fucked, pretty girl?"

"Ah-Never..." you gasped, hand circling around his wrist as you squirmed.

His fingers paused, halfway inside and you whined, "You've never been with somebody?"

"N-No, Tae," you whined, using your hand on his wrist to push his fingers back inside, "J-Just you...only you!"

He cursed under his breath, wrapping his arm tighter around you before he began to finger fuck you wholeheartedly. The sounds pouring from your lips only spurred him on, your cunt tight like a vice around just two of his fingers.

"This little cunt won't ever be able to take my cock, sweetheart," he growled, crooking his fingers up to nail that little spot that made you sob, "I'm gonna be too big for you."

"W-Want it a-anyway, Tae," you cried, nails digging into his wrist. Tears welled up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks as your body was sent into overload.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck you open until you can't take anymore?" he groaned, "Watch your virgin cunt get stuffed full of a cock you simply can't handle...have you make those pretty noises while you cream all over me..."

His words seemed more self-indulgent than aimed at you but you whined and nodded anyway. His palm ground against your clit as his fingers filled you up so nice and you found yourself teetering on the edge.

"I-I'm gonna cum," you panted, thighs twitching erratically in response to your pleasure."Go ahead, cum for me," he commanded, groaning alongside you as you tightened up around his fingers.

"Tae! 'S so good..." you slurred, eyes closed as you buried your face in his arm to ride out the pleasure he was giving you.

"Coming so prettily, little one," he whispered into your ear, fingers beginning to slow as your orgasm died down, "You're such a good girl."

"Ah...Tae," you whimpered as he pulled his fingers from your still-clenching pussy, sensitivity hitting you like a brick wall. Your thighs clenched shut, trembling uncontrollably in the aftermath of the most pleasure you'd ever received.

Taehyung slid his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of you on his tongue. His arm still held you tight as you continued to whimper against him.

"Taste so so good," he whispered, mostly to himself.

Once his digits were clean, he glanced down at you. It was clear you were still a bit overwhelmed and he cooed, shifting you in his lap until you were facing him. He pulled you into a hug and couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Humans are so fragile," he whispered, "So overwhelmed...even that was too much for you, huh?"

You didn't respond, simply tucking your face away in his neck. You let your weight drop fully on his lap but froze immediately. You hadn't realized while you were being touched, how hard Taehyung's cock was against you but with a clear mind you could.

He was fucking big.

He chuckled darkly, lips finding your neck as he slowly made you grind against his covered length, "I told you, babygirl, I'm too big for your little pussy."

When you whined and tightened your grip on him, wanting to avoid the painful overstimulation, he simply chuckled. He let you cling to him and lay with him until your eyes fluttered shut ― sleep quickly and eagerly overcoming you.

Just as you sunk into darkness, you felt him press the softest of kisses against your forehead.

"My cute little human," he whispered, voice fading out as you finally fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were tucked cozily in your bed beneath your wool comforter. The sun was up and you groaned, kicking the blankets off as you grew warmer with every passing second.

You had on your sweater from yesterday and a pair of panties you hadn't been wearing. Looking beside you, you found the bed empty and sighed.

Despite yourself, you found yourself feeling disappointed he hadn't stayed the night. He had shown you such a sweet, caring side before you fell asleep. It had made your heart flutter, how he treated you so delicately yet used such a sharp tongue to fluster you.

"He's such a strange dude," you muttered, staring at the ceiling as you spread starfish on your bed.

There was a dull ache between your legs, reminding you of the night before. Feeling your cheeks flush, you sat up straight and hurriedly crawled out of bed intending to take a cold shower.

Drying your hair with a towel, you hunted around your closet for a cute outfit for the date. Briefly, you wondered if he was still planning to take you out. Excitement thrummed through your veins, a giddy smile lighting up your face and making your cheeks ache.

After choosing your outfit, you took a seat in front of the vanity you had set up. You had found a mirror at the monthly market a few ones back and decided it was the best purchase ever. You hadn't known mirrors were scarce on Izo Huen for whatever reason until you desperately needed one.

Deciding to leave your hair down, too lazy to try and make anything of it, you mindlessly spun around in your chair.

A strange feeling bubbled up in your chest that made your heart race. Leaning your head back against the back of the chair, you ran your hands over your face with a groan.

"I actually miss him," you scoffed, leaning forward to rest your head on your vanity counter, "What is wrong with me?"

The day seemed to drag on longer than any other as you waited for Taehyung to arrive. The heat hadn't even bothered you, your mind too muddled with thoughts of your date. You wondered if he would hold your hand and where he planned to take you.

As the sun finally sunk beneath the horizon, you were more antsy and began to pace your living room. Every once in a while, you'd glance out your window in hopes a passing man would be Taehyung. Unfortunately, you were mistaken every time.

Before long, you began to realize that he simply wasn't going to show up. You changed into your pajamas, rejection burning in your veins before sitting on your bed. The streetlights and the moon cast a decent glow around you.

Your feelings were hurt. You’d been stood up by an alien.

Your heart ached and you felt your eyes sting with unshed tears. You flopped over, covering your face with a pillow before screaming into it.

"What a jerk!" you shouted in the material.

By the time you went to sleep, your simmering anger gave way to pitiful dejection. Your eyes were wet with tears as you closed them.

He was polluting your mind, everywhere you went you found yourself hoping that he'd turn up around the next corner. You’d hoped he would come knocking on your door with a sheepish smile, apologizing.

Though as the days passed and you had seen neither hide nor hair of him, the prospect of an apology made you angry. You didn't want his stupid apology anymore.

A week lapsed and it was time, once again, for your weekly log.

Sitting in front of the camera, you sighed, "The...friend I had made seems to have disappeared. It's weird, I was perfectly content by myself but once he showed up and vanished ― it's made me lonely," you gnawed on your bottom lip before sighing, disappointment becoming a common feeling in your life by then, “Maybe I need to make some friends but...I can't explain it; the Sehebon are such a strange race that it feels like it's going to be really difficult to make friends. There's really nothing eventful that happened worth logging besides my own problems so...I'll sign off."

A couple clicks on your computer had the log sent. You'd be getting paid again soon, perhaps you'd be able to go out and find something to do for yourself. Maybe you'd hit the jackpot and find someone who would want to be your friend.

It felt childish, the need for friendship you had. But with Taehyung's absence, your loneliness was at an all time high.

It was beginning to get dark and you decided to say 'fuck it' and get dressed. You'd find something to do ― you hadn't really checked out nearly all the districts of Fia and you knew there were some popular places to hang out.

It was a long walk to the area they dubbed the Social District. The second you stepped onto the rowdy street, you were blown away by the flashing lights and heavy bass emanating from the various buildings.

They had their own clubs.

You suddenly felt out of place and awkward, weaving through the giant people blocking the streets as they talked with friends. It seemed like no one saw you, as if you were just invisible to them. You moved to the sidewalk, being able to squeeze by the people and avoid the large crowd that filled the street.

You slipped into a pub ― judging by the tables and bar. You couldn't read the sign but you still walked in anyway. It wasn't very crowded, a few tables still open. The vibe inside was much cooler and calmer and you felt yourself begin to relax.

Walking up the bar, you took a seat, grabbing a menu without thinking about it.

"God dammit," you muttered, staring at the alphabet you still couldn't read.

"Can I help you?" the tender asked, moving to stand in front of you.

"Uh...I can't read this," you admitted, feeling your cheeks burn.

"That's alright, what do you like?" she pulled the menu from your hands and looked over it herself.

"Do you have any good alcohol?" you slumped against the counter, chin resting in your hand.

She regarded you with furrowed brows, closing the menu, "You do know alcohol is poisonous, right?"

"Wait what?" your head snapped up and the woman laughed.

"Alcohol is poisonous to us. We don't drink it," she placed the menu back where you got it and smiled, "We have some Soda."

"You do?" you perked up at that, not tasting soda since you'd left Earth. You watched eagerly as she filled a glass with brown liquid, placing it in front of you.

"It's not...Earth's soda but it's basically the same," she smiled, "It's got seltzer and sugary syrup in it."

You thanked her before she was whisked away to take care of another customer, leaving you by yourself. You sipped out of the straw, sighing at the taste. It was slightly off compared to the soda you were used to but bubbling seltzer had you smiling.

"_____?" you jumped at the sound of your name, choking on your drink and erupting into a fit of coughing. A hand carefully patted your back until you calmed down, "Are you alright? I didn't mean to scare you."

"I-It's fine," you choked out, clearing your throat and swallowing a few times to rid the feeling. Your eyes flicked up to meet Taehyung's and you felt a frown fall over your face before you realized it, "Taehyung."

His brows furrowed at your using his full name but he didn't say anything, "I uh...didn't know you came around here."

"It's my first time," you muttered, turning back to sip on your drink. When you didn't offer another opening for a conversation he let out a sigh and slid up next to you between the vacant seat beside you. You didn't have any choice but to interact, seeing at he wasn't going to back off.

"I'm sorry I missed our...date," the word still sounded foreign on his tongue, "I had urgent business to attend to in Holis."

"You don't owe me anything Taehyung," you muttered, failing to mask the hurt in your voice.

He sighed again, "I had to go visit a friend of mine, he was stranded and couldn't get home on his own. I promise that's all it was, _____."

You sighed, feeling your hurt and anger soften. Turning to look at him, you opened your mouth to reply but were interrupted.

“Whoa, is this the little human?” a loud voice from behind you made you jump. Twisting around, you saw a large man with biceps so big his t-shirt was stretched taut, “Oh you are a cutie!”

“U-Um...hello,” you greeted timidly.

"Uh yeah," Taehyung smiled, placing his hand on your shoulder, "This is _____. And _____ this is Wonho."

"N-Nice to meet you," you held out your hand, gasping when he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your knuckles.

"It's my pleasure," you could hear Taehyung let out a long sigh, "Bartender, I'll take a Blue Ice please. I gotta take a leak," he muttered the last part to himself, fingers lingering on your shoulder before he disappeared.

"You drinking a soda?" Wonho asked, peering into your glass, "Mind if I have a sip?"

"I guess not," you shrugged, watching him wrap his hand around the glass and bring it to his lips.

He was good looking, you couldn't deny. He had cute ears that stuck out just slightly and pretty teeth as he grinned at you. You found yourself comparing him to Taehyung ― deducing Taehyung definitely set your heart racing the second you looked at him.

"You know," Wonho placed your glass back down in front of you, "I was surprised to hear Taehyung was fooling around with a little human. I never thought he'd be the type."

"What do you mean?" you asked, brows furrowing as you mindlessly stirred your drink with your straw.

"Well I just can't believe he's actually giving in to it," Wonho said, pulling out a menu to look over it.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you muttered, quite blunt.

He seemed surprised, chuckling and waving his hand, "Just the whole human kink that's going on. You know, since humans have started coming here it's become like a game to see who can actually manage to bang one. Can't believe Taehyung managed to snag one."

Your eyes drifted to your glass, the ice melting in your soda ― watering it down. A human kink?

"So...I'm just a conquest?" you whispered, though you were sure Wonho didn't hear as he was ordering a drink.

So many things bubbled up inside you; anger, humiliation, shame. Humiliation at the fact you'd been used, shame over the fact you fell for it and were so close to giving in, and anger of the audacity he had to do such a thing to you. Tears stung your eyes and you bit your lip to hold them back.

"Oh man, that looks delicious," Taehyung groaned, grabbing his tall glass of blue drink and taking a sip.

"I'm leaving," you muttered, sliding off your stool and moving to walk away.

You were stopped by a hand grabbing your elbow. Taehyung stared at you, brows drawn together.

"You just got here," he muttered, obviously confused by your sudden change.

You scoffed, "I'm going home, Taehyung."

You snatched your arm out of his grip and stormed out the doors and onto the busy streets. You could vaguely hear your name being shouted but it was quickly covered by the noisiness of the people. Crossing your arms over your chest, you weaved through the bodies. Tears were burning your eyes but you held them back.

"Hey a human!" you heard someone shout but you didn't stop, "Why don't you come party?"

'The whole human kink.' Wonho's words echoed in your mind, making it harder to fight your tears. 'It's become a game to see who can bang one."

By the time you reached your front door, your jaw was aching with keeping your tears in. Slamming the door behind you, you immediately burst into tears ― bringing your hands up to cover your eyes with your sleeves. Sniffling, you dropped onto your couch and let your sobs out freely.

Hugging one of your throw pillows, you attempted to calm yourself down. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, eyes fluttering against your will, there was a series of sharp knocks against your door. You didn't move, silently waiting to see if they'd go away.

Unfortunately, the knocks became harsher and more frantic. Deciding that they weren't going to go away, you stood up and dragged your feet to the door.

You already had a feeling who it was and you weren't wrong ― Taehyung standing on the other side. His fist was raised like he was going to knock again and his hair was a complete wreck. His shirt clung to him with sweat and his breathing was a little heavy.

"What do you want Taehyung?" you muttered, crossing your arms around yourself.

"You've been crying," he whispered, moving to step forward but stopped when you moved back, "I knew you were upset. What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Don't!" you snapped, turning on your heel and storming into your house.

"What?" Taehyung whispered, closing the door gently behind him.

"Don't call me that," you said, keeping your back to him so he wouldn't see your tears.

It felt so nice to have him call you pet names so gently. But you remembered it was just a ruse to lure you in ― and it was so hard not to fall.

"Why not? I thought you liked being called that?" he sounded so confused and you could imagine he looked akin to a kicked puppy.

"Because it's not fair!" you shouted, finally turning around, "You can't just play those games with me because I'm a human, Taehyung!"

"I really...What are you talking about?" his voice was so soft, so gentle. He took a couple steps towards you, hands outstretched, "I'm not playing any games."

"Oh yeah?" you scoffed, wiping away a few stray tears from your cheeks, "Wonho told me about your disgusting kink! You don't care about me, you just wanted to be able to say you fucked a human!"

"Wh―" he stumbled over his words, irises desperately scanning over you, "That's not...true."

You scoffed, shaking your head., "You're so unfair, Taehyung." he cocked his head to the side curiously, "You made me like you and I trusted you. But you just...you really aren't any different from men on Earth, huh?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm different!" he argued, his own eyes growing glassy, "I never lied to you, _____. I promise!"

"You just wanted to use me as a conquest, something to brag about," you breathing stuttered as you sobbed, "And I almost fell for it!"

"Would you listen to me?!" he snapped, suddenly moving and pinning you against the wall.

He was caging you in, scent overwhelming you and making more tears fall from your eyes. You refused to meet his gaze, even though you could feel his eyes burning into you. You sniffled, staring down at your cardigan sleeves that were functioning as sweater paws.

"I never once intended to use you like that," Taehyung growled, voice giving away his frustration, "Everything I have said and done for you is real and not because you're a human. I don't want you as a...a...conquest," the word sounded foreign on his tongue, "And I certainly am not like your pathetic human men on Earth. I am better in every single way."

"Taehyung..."

"Stop calling me that!" he snapped, making you jump, "I-I want you to call me Tae!"

"I don't think..." you shook your head.

"Why won't you believe me?" he sighed, voice going soft, "Is it really so easy to lose trust in me when I haven't even done anything? You heard my friend say some stupid nonsense a-and you're suddenly convinced I'm evil!"

When he put it like that, you felt silly. Your own insecurities caught up with you and you shifted awkwardly in your place against the wall. You sheepishly looked up to find him staring at you, eyes dark beneath his long bangs. They were damp from sweat and you swallowed thickly at how good he looked.

"I'm sorry Tae..." you mumbled, nibbling on your lip beneath his glare, "I just...I really like you and I don't want you to―

"Listen to me," he tilted your head up, making you look at him directly. His eyes were much softer now and your eyes felt hot once more, "I have no intention of hurting you. You can trust me, _____. I promise."

It felt like all self-control slipped through your fingers as you suddenly surged forward to press your lips against his. Standing on you tippy-toes, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He eagerly kissed you back, arms wrapping around you ― teeth nipping at your bottom lip to make you whine.

One of his hands traveled lower, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him. You could feel his length hardened in his jeans ― and it was just as big as you remembered. It made you whimper, feeling him so hard against you. You squeaked when the floor was suddenly pulled out from beneath you and you found yourself pressed against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist, his weight supporting you.

You whined when his lips found your neck, trailing his lips over the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He smirked at the feeling of you shuddering against him.

"Are you wet for me, baby?" he asked against your skin. You whimpered and nodded, feeling your pussy clench and gush into your panties, "Do you want me to touch you? Tell me."

"Yes please, Tae," you begged, blushing when he chuckled at your desperation.

The wall was pulled out from behind you and you scrambled to hold onto him around his shoulders, "I got you," he reassured, turning to walk through the open doorway of your bedroom.

You were deposited onto your mattress, making you bounce slightly on it. Taehyung was covering your body once more, however, as he met your lips for another kiss. Resting his weight on one forearm beside your head, he used the other to push your shirt up.

Getting the hint, you pulled your cardigan off and tossed it off the side of the bed before tugging your shirt off as well. Taehyung groaned, his lips kissing the swell of your breast above your bra. His fingers trailed over your bra ― cupping you and sighing softly.

You were surprised by your own boldness as you reached behind you and unclipped your bra. Before you could tug it off, however, Taehyung pinned your arms above your head and growled.

"Why are you so eager?" he asked, making your blush further.

"I-I just want you to touch me..." you confessed, lashes fluttering when he leaned down to brush his lips against your lips once more.

"There's no rush, little one," he cooed, "I'm not going anywhere until I've made you cum for me."

You clenched your thighs with a whimper at the pressure in your core. He pulled off your bra, finally, tossing it away and sitting back to admire your body. You were laid out beneath him, breasts heaving in your arousal.

His head dipped down and you held your breath as he enveloped a perked nipple into his mouth. Your hands flew up to clutch at his hair, back arching. His teeth grazed the bud, and groaned at the way you whined.

"Fuck, you're so responsive to everything I do," he gasped, pulling his lips away from your nipple. His fingers found it and brushed his thumb nail over and you choked out a sob, "I love it so much..."

"T-Tae please!" you whined, arching your hips up.

"Alright, baby," he cooed, flicking the button of your jeans open and tugging them down. Your panties went with them but neither of you cared, "Look at that. So wet."

"Please touch me, Tae," you begged, spreading your legs wider around him.

"You ever been eaten out, sweetheart?" he asked, watching the way your breath stuttered at his question. When you didn't answer, he gave your cunt a swift smack. You cried out, clutching at the blankets desperately, "I asked you a question."

"N-No I've never― " you were cut off by his fingers sliding over your clit softly.

"Do you want to?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Yes, yes please, Tae!" you gasped, eyes wide when he shifted down the bed until his head was positioned over your core.

"So pretty, baby," he sighed, spreading your folds open to expose the pretty wet hole that clenched desperately around nothing.

Your mouth fell open, a stuttered breath escaping you when his tongue slid over your entrance up to your clit. He hummed, licking his lips to chase the taste. He looked like he was in heaven, swirling his tongue over your bud and chuckling when your whole body trembled.

"Love how you react to me," he whispered, mostly to himself. He tongued at your hole to taste your juices once more before dragging up to your clit once again, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you."

"Tae!" you cried, tugging his hair harshly though he didn't seem to mind.

His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth. You keened, eyes rolling back into your head at the stimulation. You nearly screamed when you were suddenly filled with two long fingers.

"Fuck!" you cried, back arching. You abandoned your hold on his hand to wrap your hands beneath your knees ― keeping yourself open for him.

"Good girl," he praised, making you smile down at him.

He pressed a kiss against your thigh before diving down to take your clit into his mouth again. His fingers stretched you open, catching your g-spot every chance he got. He reached so deep inside you with just his fingers and you suddenly remembered how big his dick was. Just the thought of it had your walls clenching around his fingers. He groaned in response, the vibrations against your clit making your thighs twitch.

"A-Another finger, Tae, please," you begged, voice not above a whisper.

"Can you handle that, sweetheart? Your little cunt’s already stretched around two," he teased, his index finger beginning to nudge against your entrance.

"N-Need it," you gasped, "Need to take it for you cock."

His fingers froze and you felt him exhale sharply against your core ― as if the air had been punched out of him. Glancing down, you saw his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.

"Don't say things like that, little girl," he growled, finally pushing the third finger into you, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Tae I― " your words died on your tongue when he enveloped your clit once again.

You felt stuffed with his fingers, the digits making your entrance stretch deliciously. You lost your grip on your knees and let them fall open once again. Taehyung's tongue danced over the sensitive nerves, eyes closed as he relished in having your cunt wrapped around his fingers. You were gushing, coating the digits in your juices and he couldn't wait to have them in his mouth.

"W-Wanna cum, Tae," you gasped, reaching above you to grip desperately at the pillow.

He reached up, pulling on one of your hands until you released the material. You felt your walls clench tight when he urged you to put your hands on his head.

He wanted you to pull at his hair.

Not one to reject such an offer, you tangled both your hands in the soft locks as he began to fuck you with his fingers eagerly. The wet noises were obscene, mixed with your moans made an incredible melody for Taehyung.

The fact he was the only one who had ever had you like that made his cock throb. His hips moved mindlessly against the bed beneath him to get some stimulation. His cock hurt in the confines of his jeans but he didn't dare try to pull it out.

Suddenly, your walls clenched tight and the grip on his hair began to sting the harder you pulled. Sobbing out his name, your entire body began to quake beneath him. The pleasure was overwhelming and you snapped your thighs closed around his head. He didn't pull away, however, keeping his lips attached to the throbbing bud through your orgasm ― milking every spectacular second until you were whimpering from overstimulation.

He gasped as he pulled away, sitting back on his heels before pulling his fingers out of you. He spread your folds, groaning at the way you gaped slightly from being stretched open. Sliding his soaked fingers into his mouth, his whole body trembled and he reached down to palm himself through his jeans.

The feeling of a smaller hand covering his had his eyes snapping open. He pulled his fingers out and stared down at you as you shyly palmed him through the material. He groaned, head falling back.

"C-Can I..." you trailed off, not quite sure what you were asking.

"I...I don't know..." he bit his lip, apprehensive.

"Please Tae?" you pouted, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Shit, alright," he whispered, switching your positions. He scooted up until his back rested against your headboard, shoving your pillows aside to make room for himself, "Come here. Sit on my lap, pretty girl."

Your hands were trembling as you did what you were asked, swinging your leg over his lap until you were straddling him. As you pressed your full weight on him, he tossed his head back in a groan. The pressure of you sitting on him felt spectacular.

Gripping his shoulders, you suddenly felt shy with his eyes on you. He gazed at your body on top of him like you were a goddess, hands drifting up your sides and cupping your breasts. Thumbing your nipples, he smiled crookedly when you shivered at the feeling. He cupped your cheeks, finally, and pulled you down for a soft kiss.

"Go ahead and grind on me, baby," he cooed, gripping your hips to urge you to move.

The first grind against him had him releasing the most beautiful moan that you felt yourself gush in response. His head leaned back against the headboard, watching through lidded eyes the way your cunt ground against his cock through his jeans. He wishes he could take it out and feel your wetness drip all over him ― to feel you cream against him as you came. He swallowed the urge down and continued to guide you.

"D-Does it feel good?" you asked, biting your lip as you watched his jaw tense as he held back his moans.

"So good, babygirl," he groaned, feeling his heart stutter when you proudly grinned down at him, "You're so fucking cute."

"D-Don't call me cute when I'm doing this," you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Doing what?" his head rolled against his shoulder and he smirked at you, "Go on and say it."

"No..." You whispered, clutching his shirt. Leaning forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close.

"Why so shy, little one?" he chuckled, kissing your temple and trailing his hand up your back before cupping the back of your head, "Grinding your wet little cunt against me like this...wanting to make me cum. And you want to act shy?"

You whimpered, gasping into his ear so prettily that he shuddered. He felt his orgasm coming and he groaned through clenched teeth.

"Close..." he whispered, fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist while he other clenched in your hand, "You're gonna make me cum, baby."

"Please cum, Tae," you begged, gasping when he wrenched your face out from where you were hiding in his neck.

"You want my cum?" he panted, mouth falling open as you fastened your pace. You nodded as best you could with his hand in your hair, "How about you cum first for me?"

Your eyes fluttered, realizing with his words how close you were to another orgasm. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against him. He hummed in response, smiling in the kiss when you started trembling in his lap.

You pulled away from the kiss and tossed you head back as you cried out his name, gushing against his jeans. Taehyung cursed, his own hips stuttering beneath you.

By the time you came down, you realized how wet his jeans were beneath you. You whined, falling off the side of his lap. He still sat up, chest heaving as he caught his breath. With his eyes closed, he didn't see you cupping his softening length through the wet material. He hissed, brushing your hand off of him.

"I-Is that all your..."

"I should get home," he interrupted. You frowned, watching him stand up and shift uncomfortably.

"Can't you stay?" you asked, finding yourself not wanting him to leave.

"Sorry, baby," he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead, "Maybe another time." With a final, departing kiss, he turned and stepped out of the door. He paused, however, and looked back at you, "Be ready tomorrow, 8PM. I'll take you for dinner."

You were left alone on the bed with a little smile on your lips ― the promise of seeing him tomorrow making you giddy.

You felt apprehensive when 8PM rolled around and there was no sign of him ― the time blinking on the screen of your computer. You sat on your desk chair, watching the moments tick by.

It was nearing 8:30 when there were a series of knocks on your door. You jumped to your feet and raced to the door, pulling it open to see Taehyung with a guilty smile and a handful of flowers.

"Sorry I'm late I uh..." he cleared his throat and held the flowers over to you, "I had to go a bit out of my way to get these."

"Oh Tae..." you smiled, taking them from his hands and bringing them up to your nose to smell, "They're beautiful."

"They're imported from Liana," he smiled, shrugging sheepishly.

"How'd you think of this?" You asked, motioning for him to enter your home as you went to your kitchen to put the flowers in water.

"Well..." he cleared his throat, "I just...I've been reading about human dates and just human things like that, you know?"

"You've been studying for our date?" you giggled, putting the flowers on your counter before turning to him. He looked shy, keeping his eyes averted from you, "I really appreciate it, Tae."

"Really?" his eyes lit up and he grinned his adorable smile.

"I think it was very thoughtful," you led him back to the door and out into the cool night.

"There's this place I really like around my place," he suddenly explained, taking your hand in his as he helped you down from the stoop, "I like to go there with some friends. I think you'll like it!"

"I'm sure I'll like anything, Tae," you admitted, smiling when he squeezed your hand in response.

The two of you made simple talk as you made your way to the restaurant. You hadn't had the opportunity to go to one in the time you'd lived on Izo Huen.

It was a simple, small building with an Open sign in English. You grinned, bouncing inside tugging Taehyung by his hand excitedly.

"Pick a seat, little one," Taehyung cooed, nudging your back.

It was set up exactly like a restaurant on Earth and you slid yourself into a booth, grinning. Taehyung took the spot across from you, lounging back as he looked at the menu. You followed his lead and opened the menu yourself. Eyes wide, you realized you were able to read everything.

"Hey...It's in English!" you muttered, eyes scanning over the words. They were translated underneath into what Taehyung could understand ― the characters and symbols lost on you.

"Yeah it's the only place around here that does it," he shrugged, "I figured you might enjoy that."

"You're..." you grinned, shaking you head, "You're so thoughtful, Tae. I really appreciate it."

He shrugged, though you could see that his ears were tinged red.

You both ordered drinks and food, the atmosphere dissolving into one of calm company. You both chatted idly about anything ― Taehyung asking a lot of questions about Earth and him trying to teach you the different characters for his alphabet. He gave up when you just couldn't get a hang of it ― teasingly calling you illiterate and cooing when you pouted.

"Hey Tae," you muttered, picking at the salad you had ordered. He hummed, mouth full of some type of steak ― though the meat was of a consistency that made your stomach turn, "How did you learn to speak so...casually?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, sipping his soda.

"You know..." you blushed, realizing the question wasn't really something to ask over the dinner table, "When you talk you use a lot of slang terms. Like...in bed," You whispered the last word and picked at your salad again.

"Oh," Taehyung chuckled, "See, I have a friend who has been to Earth a few times. He has a lot of...interesting material that he let me read. And he kind of taught me some popular slang on Earth."

"You didn't have to go to so much effort, Taehyung," you whispered, although you were grinning. Your heart fluttered in your chest nonetheless.

"I wanted to," he suddenly set a hard gaze on you, "I want you to like me and I want you to feel comfortable around me. I want to be good for you."

"Tae..." you reached across the table and cupped his hand in yours, "I already like you very much. You make me feel comfortable and you make me feel very happy."

He grinned, looking away from you shyly but squeezed your hand tightly.

The walk home was peaceful, you found yourself wrapping your arms around one of Taehyung's ― wanting to be close to him. He didn't seem to mind in the slightest, squeezing your hand tightly and staring down at you with sparkling eyes. It felt like he looked at you like you hung up the moon ― it made you feel fluttery inside.

"Do you want to come inside, Tae?" you asked, opening your front door.

He hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside. He kicked his boots off along with you, watching as you tucked both of them away in the corner. You went to your bedroom to change into something comfortable ― settling on some pajama pants and an oversized sweater. When you walked back out, Taehyung was sitting at your desk looking at your computer.

"What's this?" he gestured to your setup with your camera.

"It's where I record the logs needed to send back to Earth," you explained, "I update my superiors every week on things that are happening. When I learn something new about the culture or something interesting happens."

"Interesting," he muttered, sitting there for a moment before standing up and navigated over to your couch.

You dropped into the seat beside him and molded yourself against his side. He wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss against the top of your head. The silence was comfortable and you rested your head on his chest ― listening to his heartbeat.

"Hey Tae?" he hummed, looking down at you when you looked up at him, "Can I have a kiss?"

His gaze softened and he quickly leaned down to press his lips against yours. He went to pull away but you followed him, pulling him into a deep kiss making him moan. Swinging your leg over his lap, you straddled him boldly. He seemed surprised by it but didn't say anything, just moving his lips against yours.

"Tae," you whispered against his lips, "I want to touch you, please?"

"_____― " he pulled away from the kiss, pushing you back slightly by your shoulders.

"You keep saying I can't handle it, but I can!" you argued, pouting at being pushed back.

"I don't want to hurt you, _____," his brows came together in a deep furrow, "It wasn't just talk when I said you couldn't handle it. It's too much, you're too...small."

"It turns you on though doesn't it?" you teased, noticing how he was growing hard beneath you, "Can't we at least try, Tae?"

"I-I..." his head fell back when you ground against him, "Fuck, we can try."

You held in a squeal of joy when he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bedroom. He dropped you on the bed and stripped his shirt off.

It was the first time seeing him naked and you sat up to admire his body. He was fit, as you expected. His stomach was flat with a small trail of hair leading beneath his jeans. On his shoulders were patches embedded in his skin that reflected off the dim light of your bedroom.

"What..." you sat up on your knees, brushing your fingers over them. It felt like normal skin, and you hummed in wonder.

"They're...light-sensitive patches that we just...never evolved out of," he explained, "They were useful for survival when we dominated the deserts. Now they're just...here."

"Interesting," you muttered, trailing your hand down his chest and stomach to the button on his jeans.

Before you could flick it open, however, he grabbed your wrist and pinned you back to the bed. His gaze was dark, making you shiver underneath it. He smelled wonderful and you reached up with your free hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes.

"You've got another thing coming if you think you'll get anywhere near my cock before I think you're good and ready, little one," he growled, making your thighs clench at the sound.

You whined when he rushed to discard your clothes, not wasting a single second in getting you bare for him. He palmed himself through his jeans as he looked down at you, licking his lips.

"So pretty," he whispered, smoothing his hand down your body. Smirking, he pinched one of your nipples to hear the way you whined, "Spread your legs for me."

You hurriedly did as you were told, shame and inhibitions thrown out the window. You felt nervous under his gaze but with every compliment and soft touch ― you began to feel better. Mouth falling open, you gasped when his fingertips brushed against your folds.

"You're so wet," he mumbled, more to himself, "Are you always so wet, baby?"

"Y-You're the only one ― "

"I know that but when you touch yourself, pretty baby," he glanced up when you tensed, "I know you do. Tell me do you get this wet?"

"O-Only when I think of you," you admitted before you could think twice about it. You felt your cheeks burn at your own admission but Taehyung cursed and grunted as he squeezed his cock.

"You're such a good girl," he praised, fingertips trailing up your body again. Goosebumps ignited across your skin and you arched your back to get more of the feeling of his touch.

His fingers eagerly dipped back between your thighs to find your entrance. You whimpered when he immediately slipped a single digit inside. It felt nice but unfulfilling.

He pulled his finger out and circled it over your clit ― using your own juices to lubricate the movement. You hummed, eyes fluttering as he circled the bud several times. When your thighs began to tense, he pushed his finger back inside.

He continued the teasing until you were whining beneath him. Suddenly he pressed his thumb against the bud, circling and pressing against it relentlessly.

"I'm gonna cum!" you warned, your eyes squeezing shut.

"Go ahead, pretty baby," he urged, not pausing in his torture of your clit.

You came quickly, arching and trembling on the bed. Your cunt was empty, gushing and clenching around nothing. His touches on your clit slowed until they stopped all together.

You figured he'd give you a moment to recover but, he was suddenly sliding two fingers inside you. You were so wet from your orgasm, your cum slicking down his fingers and onto the bed. You sobbed, grinding your hips into his touch. He didn't try touching your clit or your spot, showing that much mercy. Instead, he leaned down to envelop a perked nipple in his mouth while he scissored his fingers, stretching you a bit more.

You hummed, cupping the back of his head to keep him in place. He didn't seem to mind, beginning to fuck his two fingers into you faster.

"A-Another, please," you requested, whimpered when he immediately did so.

There was a slight, tiny burn that immediately gave way to pleasure. His palm pressed against your clit ― still so sensitive that it made you tremble. As he fucked you with his fingers, he switched to give your other breast attention.

Your hips jerked with his every movement, following the pace he'd set. Every time he brushed your g-spot and you whined, he would laugh.

He took so much enjoyment in your pleasure it was almost baffling. You were always sure that men would be selfish and unsatisfying in bed but Taehyung was nothing but attentive.

Perhaps he was right; he was better than any human man.

"Cum again for me," he purred, swiping his tongue along your chest before meeting your neck.

The feeling of his fingers and teeth on your neck had you inching closer to the edge of the abyss.

"T-Tae, please," you whined, grinding your hips down, "T-Touch me, please."

He hummed, moving his thumb to press against your clit. The simple touch set you off and you were coming once again beneath him. Your body was on fire, sweat sticking to you and making you pant. It crested beautifully and faded out into trembles and whines.

He didn't remove his fingers, instead beginning to nudge a fourth into you ― his pinky finger. His eyes met yours, keeping his eyes on your face as he stretched you further than he had before. The width of his hand was bordering on painful but you found it highly enjoyable. His thumb continued to circle your clit even as you sobbed in overstimulation. Your spasming walls eagerly accepted the new stretch and you found yourself relaxing into it.

He was quickly going to send you to another orgasm but before you could fall off the edge again, he removed his thumb. You whined, grinding your hips to chase the feeling. His eyes drifted down to where his fingers were buried into you, smoothing two of his fingers from his free hand over your folds.

"Stretched so wide," he muttered, scooping up some of your cum on the digits and popping them in his mouth. Your walls squeezed his fingers in response to his display.

He suddenly pulled his fingers out and you cried out at being empty so fast. Your walls weren't able to close properly and you closed your thighs at the feeling.

Instead of stopping you, Taehyung stepped off the bed. Your mouth went dry when he unbuttoned his jeans and began to shuffle them down his thighs.

You realized he wasn't wearing underwear when his cock popped free ― flushed incredibly red at the head and leaking precum down the shaft. He visibly shuddered when his cock was free from its confines and he quickly wrapped his hand around himself ― giving himself a few good squeezes.

He was just as big as you thought. His fingers didn't meet when wrapped around the girth. He was wider than his four fingers and so long that you found yourself whimpering at the thought of him drilling into you that deep.

"You still think you can take me, little one?" he asked, crawling on the bed to kneel in front of you still clenched thighs.

"Y-Yeah...want it," you let your legs fall open, showing him your flushed and swollen cunt.

Her cursed, tapping the fat head of his cock against your cunt. You whimpered when you saw just how big it was compared to your own pussy. He was surely going to rip you in half but damn if you wouldn't enjoy every second.

His precum mixed with your cum as he slid his shaft between your folds, getting the underside of him nice and wet. You whimpered, feeling him grinding against your clit bringing you close to the orgasm you'd been denied.

Before you could fall into it, he positioned his tip at your entrance. Prodding ever so slightly, he sighed at the feeling of your heat against him. You spread your legs wider for him as he began to press inside.

You cried out, clutching the sheets beneath you as he stretched you wide open. The head of him was so thick, bordering on painful. You reached out to stop him from going any further, gritting your teeth at the feeling.

"You're okay," he whispered, shifting back so he pulled out of you.

You breathed heavily, relaxing once more as he circled your clit with his thumb. As your eyes fluttered, he began to press back inside. You whined as he pushed past what he had been, thumb not letting up on your clit. You walls spasmed around him, making him groan as you began to tremble.

The head of him popped inside and you cried out as you were sent over the edge. Taehyung's body fell over yours, catching himself on his hands beside your head. You sobbed, tears filling your eyes at the pleasure of being stretched as you were.

Taehyung's mouth fell open as he felt you cum around the head of his cock. When you calmed down to just little sniffles and whimpers, he leaned down to press his lips against your neck.

"You okay, baby?" he whispered. You nodded, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss.

He took that as his cue to sink further into you. The flare on the head of his cock was the thickest part of him and it felt much easier for the rest of him to slide in. He nudged your cervix and when you flinched at the pain, he pulled back slightly.

"Look at that," he chuckled looking between your bodies. Following his gaze, your eyes widened, "You can't even fit all of me inside you, little one."

He was right, you'd only managed to fit half his cock inside you. Your walls clenched around him at that.

"Feels so good, Tae," you whispered, feeling his cock twitch against your walls.

He grinned, moving his hips gently, sinking in as far as he comfortably could before pulling back out. Although he wasn't able to fit in you completely, he still found himself groaning against you

"Such a tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your jaw, "Took me so well, like a good girl."

You began to grind your hips up as he sunk into you and he growled. Sitting back on his heels, he soothed his hand over your body to soothe you.

You cursed loudly when he snapped his hips much harder into you ― testing how much you could take. When you gushed and spasmed around him, he took that as a sign to keep going. You moaned so beautifully for him, body reacting like a dream to his every touch and movement.

Cunt stretched wide and stuffed full of cock, you couldn't even think of anything else. You felt drunk, dizzy and lightheaded. Taehyung cooed when you slurred out his name, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip to collect some drool there.

"You're so cute," he grinned, breaking out into a moan when you clenched him tight, "All you can think about is my cock, huh?"

"'S so good..." you whispered, the words coming out almost breathlessly.

"I know, baby," he replied, licking his lips as he moved to his cock pounding you open wider than you should have been able to take, "You're gushing and squeezing me so nice. Are you gonna cum? Can you cum for me?"

You swallowed and nodded, whining when he hit your cervix. It hurt but it blended in with the pleasure. Mindlessly, you reached down to find your clit ― intent on sending yourself over the edge.

"No, no baby," he cooed, brushing your fingers away, "You'll cum without touching your pretty clit, yeah?"

"C-Can't," you sobbed, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes.

"I think you can," he muttered, smoothing his hand over your lower stomach. "Fuck, look at that, babygirl."

You lazily followed his gaze to where his hand laid. Your cunt clenched at the sight of your stomach bulging every time he sunk in ― his cock literally molding you around it. You gasped, your high bubbling in your stomach.

"Wanna cum!" you cried, attempting to reach down and circle your clit again only to be stopped once more.

"I said no, little one," he snapped, pinning your hands above your head as he loomed above you, "You can do it. Cum for me."

Your body went still, focusing on the feeling of his cock filling you and stretching you. His cock was so big that he didn't even have to try to reach any good spots within you.

Astoundingly, you shrieked as your orgasm finally washed over you. Taehyung cursed in your ear, fucking you ruthlessly through the high. Distantly, you felt wetness splatter between your thighs and coat both of you. You chanted his name as you squirmed and writhed at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Shit, I'm― " Taehyung's warning was cut off by a groan.

His weight fell on you fully and he hid his face in your neck as he came. You hugged him against you, still trembling as he pumped his hot cum into you. There was so much, his cock keeping his cum plugged inside you. You gasped and twitched as you felt your stomach bloat over so slightly. You walls clenched around him, the idea of him filling you so much sending you into another quiet orgasm.

It was less spectacular than the others, but still left you gasping of air. Taehyung groaned in your ear as he felt you cum around his sensitive cock once again ― forcing a couple more spurts out of him to add.

It seemed like forever until his body finally relaxed. He continued to hold you, pressing kisses against any place he possibly could.

"That was...nice..." you muttered, making him laugh as he rolled off of you.

Your mouth fell open as he pulled his cock out ― it ached, there was no denying it. There was a gush of his cum, so much of it that it formed of pool beneath you. Your cheeks felt hot as Taehyung watched his cum pour out of your abused hole.

"Who knew my little human girl could take so much?" he teased, enjoyed the way you squirmed in embarrassment, "Want to take a shower?"

"Only if you will with me," you offered with a tired voice, watching his face morph into an expression of confusion.

"Is that some type of human thing?" he asked, sitting up and stretching his muscles.

"Apparently so," you whispered.

"Hey..." he paused from getting off of the bed. "You...you'll be here a while, right?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, clenching your thighs shut as you felt your core begin to burn and ache as you came back to yourself.

"Like...you won't have to go back to Earth any time, right?" his voice sounded small, almost fragile.

"I'll stay as long as I want to," you reassured, leaning over to kiss him but freezing before you could.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm just really fucking sore," you mumbled, flushing when he burst out laughing.

"Ah, my cute little human," he cooed, kissing your nose.

12K notes · View notes

marveldc-imagines-hub · 4 years

Text

Subtitles: Episode 1, Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: [Y/N] has been living in Westview for more almost a month now and yet to properly put down roots. What they hadn’t been expecting was to work so much, have unpacking be so hard, and for a new couple to move in the other house for sale, directly across the street.

Word count: 8,425

Warnings: Sit down and grab a snack because this one’s a bit long! Otherwise nothing, really. Maybe second-hand embarrassment caused by a thirsty Reader.

~~~

Ever since you left both home and family behind some years ago, you’ve always felt a little out of place in the world. It was a hard time for you, leaving everything you knew behind and instead branching out and trying to find your place in the world. Actually, not only was it a difficult time in your life, but a confusing one; when you attempted to reflect on those memories, all you get is a head of foggy feelings, including a particularly sick sensation that leaves you out of commission for the rest of the day if you’re not careful.

When you settled in Westview, it was like a breath of fresh air. Finding a home in a nice neighborhood was easy and the moving was done in a pinch thanks to a local moving company helping you get the boxes to your door, though you couldn’t afford to pay for them to do more. You were even lucky enough to find a street with not one but two open houses to pick from; you chose the smaller, more modest abode, as you had no family in town and no intention of getting married or starting a family any time soon. Despite this lack of them nearby and generally solid memories, though, you knew you had a good relationship with your family because as soon as you found a place, you were receiving housewarming gifts and postcards and letters from not only your family but close and extended relatives alike. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for your new house’s already installed fridge to be covered in pamphlet-worthy pictures of places across the nation and kind words from your mother, grandmother, and cousins.

There was still unpacking, now of both the furniture and gift variety, that needed to be done before anything else. Then there was the question of a proper source of income—while the money you received from your relatives would cover a month or two while you got yourself settled, you suspected there wasn’t going to be anything else for a long while and, either way, you wanted to be able to fend for yourself. Finally, after the necessities were dealt with, there was the matter of making your house and the neighborhood your home and by making some connections; while you were perfectly content living alone, it would be nice to not feel like such an outsider, to have friends to go out on the town with or take the occasional trip with on the weekends. These were normal goals, you figured, and, with as easy everything else has been so far, they should be simple enough to complete.

Right?

Well, at least getting a job was easy enough, you thought as you sat on the stack of boxes that, over the last month, had become a chair by the door that you used to pull on your shoes before work, as you were doing now. It also functioned as a coat and hat rack, as proven by your growing collection of jackets and headwear piled on it, and the occasional bookshelf after a trip to the local library. It used to be a place to hold your keys but you have yet to make that mistake again after sitting down one day and getting a sharp jab to the backside.

You were right that getting a job was easy enough—you received a callback for a secretary job at a computational services company only after a week of job searching—but you had yet to follow through with your other aspirations. It’s not like you haven’t tried, but when it came to unpacking, your job left you with very little energy to do much other than collapse on a couch-shaped collection of boxes when you get home and only a semi-decently decorated bedroom to show for your work. In terms of bonding with the locals and making some friends, let’s just say that Dottie is convinced you purposely spilled red wine on her perfect white parlor gown—who wears white when drinking red wine?—and now all you received from the neighborhood husbands were side-eyes and grumbling after telling them you found their attempts at humor in poor taste. At least you’d managed to charm your boss and his wife when they came over for dinner and now Mr. and Mrs. Hart invited you over for the occasional drink and gossip; Agnes, a woman from across the street and down a house, was also among your few successes, and she was a hoot to be around in a big sister or wine aunt type of way, despite her loudness.

Speaking of which—

“Hey, [Y/N],” Agnes hollered from somewhere outside, “haven’t seen you out of the house yet! Better hurry up, the streets are antsville today! Or, at least, you could come with me to say welcome the other new neighbors!”

Agnes came knocking on your door the same day you moved in and since then, she’s apparently committed your daily schedule to memory because if you’re not heading to work right on time, you get a holler from across the— Wait. New neighbors? You hopped up from your boxy perch after making sure your shoes were secure and peeked out the nearest window. Sure enough, the other house that you had considered moving into, the one immediately across the street from your own, no longer had a FOR SALE sign stuck in its yard and the yard and curtains appeared to have been decorated. Your heart lept into your throat as you wondered when that had happened; you desperately hoped that it hadn’t happened too long ago because you’ve been on a work rampage for the past few days and haven’t noticed much else. Yet another thing you haven’t done correctly.

Agnes was also by the front yard, leaning against the fence and chatting with the mailman as he walked by. After he passed, she looked up and caught your eye, grinned, and waved. “Come on, [Y/N], no time like the present!”

You wanted to join her and introduce yourself to the new neighbors, you really did. Unfortunately, you would definitely get to work late if you didn’t get a move on, especially if the streets were as crowded as Agnes mentioned them to be, and you definitely didn’t want to greet the neighbors without a housewarming gift in hand. Perhaps you could stop by a shop on the way home and pick up a plant or a pie and welcome them this evening.

“Now, don’t flip your lid, Agnes,” you teased back with a smile as you walked outside. This response earned you a mock scowl, then Agnes’s smile again; you walked over to your vehicle and tossed your bag into the passenger’s seat. “I wish I could join you but you caught me; I am in fact looking to wind up late and I’ll be cruisin’ for a bruisin’ if I don’t leave now. I’ll try to stop by after work!”

“Well alright then,” came Agnes’s reply, while you hopped into the driver’s seat and started your chariot up. “I’ll tell them you say hi. Congrats on no longer being the new guy!”

Too bad I still feel like the new guy, you mentally grumbled, rapping your fingers on the steering wheel. You took a breath, checked that your hair was in place and your shirt wasn’t wrinkled in the mirror and headed on your way.

“Oh, hello dear; I’m Agnes, your neighbor to the right! My right, not yours. Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the neighborhood. My mother-in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

Wanda watched the woman on her doorstep, visibly a bit perplexed but smiling either way. She was confused about what special event she and her husband were supposed to be celebrating tonight after seeing a heart on the calendar but now that she had an unknown woman—no, not unknown; one of her neighbors—here, Wanda couldn’t possibly be a bad hostess and turn her away.

Not that the woman, Agnes, would have let her do so anyway. She shoved the plant she was holding into Wanda’s arms and walked inside, talking without giving Wanda any space to chime in. “So, what’s your name, where’re you from, and most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”

Wanda quickly shut the door and trotted after the woman. She was newly stressed over the unknown event but now also giddy; this was the first neighborly welcome of many, she was sure of it! She reached Agnes’s side and stretched out a hand with a big smile. “I’m Wanda.”

“Wanda,” Anges repeated as if to see how the same felt on her tongue, before taking Wanda’s hand in a solid shake, “Charmed.” She paused, glancing around the house—Wanda felt an odd pang of anxiety—then continued, “Gol-ly, you settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

Wanda struggled momentarily for an answer. Of course, she didn’t; she’d used her powers to unpack and decorate quickly, but she couldn’t say that to this stranger. She decided to go with an affirmative answer as it was the easiest route. She went to reply—

“If you did,” Agnes went on, “I should get the name from you. Our other new neighbor across the way still has a house full of boxes!”

Wanda blinked, her head tilting to one side out of curiosity. “Other new neighbor?”

“Why the house directly to your front!” Without waiting, the other woman walked to the front window and yanked back the curtains; she gestured to the house in question. “[Y/N]. They live on their own, you see, and probably could have done well with the help. Actually, they were going to stop by with me but they were running late for work. I told them I’d tell you hi for them—Hi for them!”

The loud car Wanda had heard a few minutes earlier must have been this other neighbor rushing off to work. It was nice to know that even though it hadn’t happened, there had almost been a party of two to welcome her and her husband to the street; it’s too bad that he had left for his own job only a while earlier.

Wanda made her way over to the window as well and took a look. It was more modest in size and build than Wanda’s own home, much more suited to house a single person. Despite Agnes’s claim of them having not unpacked, a few lawn decorations were set up and a pair of [F/C] curtains hung neatly framing the home’s front window. Wanda could make out various boxes leaning up against the window, evidence to Agnes’s statement, but otherwise, the place seemed well-kept. The yard was taken care of, though Wanda wondered if it was because the person had moved in just as recently as she and her husband did or if they just enjoyed garden work.

Apparently, she’d wondered this aloud because Agnes responded, “They’ve been here for about a month, just been too busy making a good impression at work and making a fool out of themselves to the other neighbors to make their house a little more homely. Poor thing’s a darling but struggling in the social department.”

Wanda continued to watch the house as if this other, slightly older newcomer was about to drive back up the street to home. Consider her interest piqued. Wanda wanted to know more about [Y/N], all of her neighbors really, but more importantly, why there had been multiple houses open and if it was common. She hoped this neighborhood was as friendly as it seemed and that it wasn’t danger or unkindness that had made multiple people move out. She opened her mouth to ask—

However, Agnes had moved on to a different subject, as well as a different part of the house. “So what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house?”

“Oh no,” Wanda, sighing softly, switched gears with her and replied, “I’m not single.”

You gulped down a gasp of air as you tumbled out of the elevator of Computational Services Inc, which earned you a few odd looks from unknown coworkers passing by. You’d bumped into one of them while skidding to a halt and you felt a blush creep up on your cheeks and ears and you stepped away, apologizing profusely. You tried to reach your desk in a quick but professional manner, only stopping briefly to make sure your clothes and hair were still in order in the reflection of an office window. As you got closer to your desk, a small thing in an area separated from other employees, you heard the comforting sounds of typing and radio music. You got to your desk, pulled out your chair, sat your bag down, and began to sit, only for a voice to catch your attention.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. Would you be so good as to tell me what exactly we do here?”

A British accent? Not something you hear every day around here. You pushed your chair back into place to prevent another worker from bumping into it and walked over to peer around the corner. You recognized Norm, a kind and well-mannered employee that filled out computational forms in this section of the building, standing and chatting with a taller, paler, glasses-wearing man that you didn’t know.

The British voice spoke again and now, at least, you could put the voice to a face. “Do we make something?”

The British gentleman was very tall indeed and quite handsome. He had light wavy hair in a side part, with a sliver’s worth that looked like it could fall into his eyes at any moment; you felt the strange urge to push it back before the idea of running your hands through a stranger’s hair made you blush again. His suit fit his lanky body well, though you’d expect nothing less as Mr. Hart was very strict about his workers’ appearance. His tie was interesting, a dark color with a simple, lighter print of four spots, two larger ones encased in a rectangle, and his glasses framed his curiosity-ridden face very well. Above his lovely-looking, light-colored eyes, his brows were furrowed as he looked animatedly around, as though his workplace was a puzzle he was trying to solve. You noticed he talked with his hands quite a bit and you also noticed that his large, long-fingered hands seemed slightly out of place compared to the rest of his body. They seemed like nice hands, though, and they probably did their job well.

Goodness, [Y/N], now you’re just being ridiculous. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your head against the wall you were hiding around. No, not hiding, because that would make your creeping seem even more bizarre. Definitely not creeping. Investigating.

You shook your head to refocus and looked towards the men, listening again. He is a bit of a dreamboat, isn’t he though?

Norm was answering the man. “No and no.”

“Then what is the purpose of this company?” the stranger continued.

“All I know,” Norm replied with a smile, “is since you’ve gotten here, productivity has gone up three hundred percent!”

Three hundred? That was a startling thought, almost enough to give you a headache. So you’re the reason I’ve had more files on my desk.

The stranger picked up one of said files and flipped through it. “Yes, but what is it that we’re producing?”

He’s quite interested in figuring out the answer to that question, isn’t he? You felt another pang in your temple. How strange.

Your brows knitted together as you, curious, leaned into the pain a bit. The pain seemed to follow the British employee’s questioning, so you focused on it.

What did they do here anyway?

The harmless pangs quickly turned into a full-blown migraine, similar to what would happen if you thought too hard about your past. You grimaced in pain and reached for your head, only to lose your balance completely and fall forward, into the room you were observing. You hissed as your knees hit solid ground and you braced yourself with one hand while the other gripped the hair closest to your temple. You tried to look around for something else to focus on but your vision was blurry and you couldn’t tell if you were even moving your head.

Then there was shouting, which didn’t help the throbbing pain at all, and you felt what seemed like a hundred pairs of hands grasping at you. You couldn’t understand the yelling other than recognizing the voices as male; you tried to tell them you were alright, shake the hands off and get yourself some space, but nothing in your body seemed to be working quite right. Because of this, the voices and the various hands—or was there just two hands?—didn’t know what you wanted and instead of space, they crowded you. You felt grips on your shoulders and arms, even on your back— Then you were being lifted. Completely off the ground or only to your feet, you couldn’t tell.

Then the hands—only one on your back and another pair holding your arm now—guided you to a place where you could properly sit.

It was quieter now and you could feel the floor beneath your feet and an office chair holding your weight. You realized your eyes were closed so you opened them and you found your vision beginning to refocus. You looked around.

“Goodness, are you alright?”

You could feel how red your face was—it was probably bright enough to be used as a neon stop sign—when you found yourself staring into a man’s torso. A torso that was quite close. You looked up and directly into the face of the British man, who no longer looked troubled by curiosity but rather quite concerned by you.

Oh, yes, definitely a dreamboat, you thought without really meaning to.

Then Norm came rushing over, a cup in hand. “[Y/N], are you alright?”

“[Y/N],” the stranger repeated. He took the water cup from Norm, who hovered nearby, and squatted down to be at eye level with you.

You wouldn’t mind hearing him say your name again.

Good Lord, stop it, you almost passed out!

“That is my name,” you managed. You even managed a definitely awkward smile, a couple of seconds of definitely awkward eye contact.

“Here, you should drink this.” He offered you the cup and once you took it, he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up!”

I would imagine so, with how I feel. You sipped the water. Maybe you didn’t look as bad as you thought you did.

“Looks like you’re about to throw up too,” Norm very helpfully added.

Thank you for the commentary, Norm.

“[Y/N],” the other employee said, drawing your scowling gaze back from Norm, “do you have someone you could call? You look ill; perhaps it would serve you well to go home.”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. He did not look convinced but you pushed on, whipping up a quick white lie to cover up your jarring headache. “I didn’t eat this morning and I rushed to work to escape the antsville. I must have gotten overheated on the way and I’m sure an empty stomach helped that. Sorry for worrying—”

“What is going on out here?”

You both jumped to your feet; you moved too fast for having just recovered and stumbled but luckily both Norm and his colleague caught you and straightened you up before you fell over. No one wanted to be seen out of place by the boss and you were currently both out of place and sorts. Even though you knew Mr. Hart already saw you—hell, he was standing directly in front of you three—you glanced around for a place to hide. Instead, you saw files and papers scattered across the floor, the result of your migraine-induced fumbling. You groaned and dropped your head into your hands.

“Well?”

There was a moment of silence. You felt Norm take a step away from you and you expected the other man to do so as well. He didn’t but you raised your head and squared your shoulders, preparing for the worst.

“Sir—” you started.

“Sir,” the British gentleman interrupted, taking a step forward. “[Y/N] here was walking back to their desk and tripped, and in my haste to help them, I knocked over a pile of files on my desk. I apologize for the racket and the mess I’ve caused; I’ll deal with it right away.”

Mr. Hart looked from him to you to Norm, who was quaking in his nice shoes, then back. There were yet a few more moments of quiet before he spoke again. “Vision.”

Vision?

“Yes, Sir.”

You glanced at the man to your right. Vision. What an interesting name for an interesting person.

“You better hope dinner tonight goes well after this charade,” Mr. Hart barked. “This better be cleaned up by the next time I come out here.”

Rather than looking upset or stressed, Vision looked relieved. He made a heart with his hands and muttered, “Mr. Hart. Of course…”

“And you,” the boss’s glare now settled on your face. “You were late this morning. In my office. Now.”

“Dammit,” you muttered after Mr. Hart had turned his back.

“Sorry, don’t think I can help you that one,” Vision chimed in. He was rubbing the back of his head and squinting at Mr. Hart’s back. “You’ll be alright?”

“Promise, it was just a bit of the spins.” You gave him a friendly pat on the arm and made your way to hopefully not get fired. “Nice meeting you!”

“You as well, despite the unfortunate circumstances. Good luck!”

Mr. Hart was waiting for you by his desk when he entered. He gestured for you to shut the door before he sat and as you did, you saw Vision beginning to clean up your mess before the phone on his desk started ringing.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted.” You were exiting a shop downtown, squinting against the light of the setting sun. You held the door open with a toe of one shoe while you adjusted the bags on your arms, then moved around to properly hold the door for Agnes, who strolled out after you. “Hart was an absolute villain today! Barks at me for coming in late and not getting work done but then does it for an hour! Well now who’s keeping me? Then this British gent—I swear I’ve never seen him before but he’s apparently the cause of my last few busy work days!”

“The looker?”

You blushed a bit; Agnes will never you live it down now that you’ve slipped up and said you’d found the man attractive. “I may have mentioned that earlier—but I digress! As charming as the man was, helping me out even after I knocked over a bunch of his things, he’s still a powerhouse of an employee. Tripled my load of work with his own; now I get what Norm meant when he said productivity has gone up by three times! Imagine, being yelled at by my boss—who was one of the few well-off relationships I’ve had since moving to town—for an hour, and then, when you finally get back to business, your desk is buried in files! I’m barely breathing at this point! Ain’t that just a bite.”

“Who’s flipped their lid now?” Agnes said with a cheeky grin. You responded with a tired glare and she scoffed. She moved her own bags to one arm so she could give your shoulder a good pat. “Just teasing you, dear! We can’t all be superhuman, unfortunately. Although you’re damn near close; thank you for helping me home, by the way. Ralph had a last-minute “meeting” with some “coworkers” tonight and I’m helping out our new neighbor plan a very important date!”

That’s right, you had a new neighbor across the street. You’d almost forgotten. You knew there was a reason you’d felt the urge to pick up a small houseplant on your way through the checkout.

“You have the mouth of a sailor, ‘Nes,” you quipped, cracking a grin.

“And a drinking tolerance that would put any soldier to shame!” Agnes agreed with a short laugh. After a quick pause, she added, “It’s not like I said ‘fuck.’”

That time both of you laughed and for the first time since your disastrous day, you felt yourself relax. After bringing up sailors and soldiers, Agnes lept into one of her half-complaint, half-stories about how, one time, her husband Ralph got drunk and tried to fight an entire bar—“Everything including the stools!” While she talked and you escorted her to your car, your mind wandered, curiosity about your new neighbors piqued again. You reached the sidewalk’s curb and helped Agnes stepped down, then opened the vehicle’s passenger door and took her bags.

Instead of sliding inside, Agnes watched you as you moved around to the other side of the car and put the bags in the backseat. “You’re a bit of a flutter bum yourself, dear. Look at those manners; you’ve been out and about all day and still came to help me with the groceries! And that voice! Absolute apple butter sometimes, when you want it to be. I’m surprised you aren’t already circled with a couple of children along the way!”

You snorted as you opened your door and slid behind the wheel. “Just not in my plan, I suppose.” You gestured for her to join you in the car and started it up when she did so. “You didn’t see me today either. Creeping around corners, then these annoying headaches got to me and I was stumbling around knocking down everything! Not to mention the new guy, sweet as pie, saw me do all this and go absolutely red just from looking at him. Sweating, cottonmouth, everything. I must have seemed bonkers! It was awful.”

Agnes offered, “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

“I’m sure if he ever sees me again, he’s going to turn heel and walk in the opposite direction,” you stated. Then you shifted into gear, pulled away from the sidewalk, and turned towards home.

You were in the one room in your house that wasn’t a part of the United Boxes, your bedroom, standing in front of one of the few pieces of furniture you’d managed to unpack since moving in. You fussed over your reflection in the mirror, pushing your damp hair from one side to the other, adjusting your tie one moment then readjusting it the next, holding up various hats and cardigans.

Your casual wardrobe was much more unique than the business attire you kept for work, which was generally neutral in both color and style. Tonight, you wore a collared button-up in a bright pattern of your favorite color paired with a tie that was darker in shade but equally bright in color, and you were debating between various cardigans in complementary colors. The pants you wore were more muted, a neutral color to go with the shiny black dress shoes and good quality belt that you usually only broke out for special social occasions. For a little more pop, you also wore a few colorful bracelets on each wrist and a ring or two. You even added a little more color to your still tired-looking face, despite you feeling much better after a nap, shower, and change of clothes.

You finally settled on the combination of a brighter colored cardigan a more muted hat to pull your entire look together. Slipping the cardigan on and flattening out any creases, you flashed your mirror self your friendliest smile for practice’s sake. Then you gave yourself a twirl, craning your neck over over your shoulder to make sure everything looked just as nice from the back as the front.

Now we’re cooking with gas, you thought. Hopefully, the neighbors think so too.

Satisfied, you made your way out to the living room where your outfit-appropriate handbag and housewarming gift waited. The young plant, a pachira, sat in a pot whose color accented the color of the house you were going to visit this evening as opposed to the simple white it’d come in. The pot itself wore a big ribbon bow that you’d attached yourself and sticking out of the soil was a card welcoming the neighborhood’s newcomers.

Perhaps you’d finally make some friends tonight.

You picked up the plant-based gift in one hand and placed it securely in the crook of your arm, then picked up your handbag in the other and made your ways outdoors. It was a quick walk across the street and once on the neighboring house’s doorstep, you steeled yourself with a deep breath. You smiled, then frowned, then smiled again and repeated this a couple of times to make sure the first smile your neighbors saw wasn’t a strained one and raised your hand to use the oddly realistic-looking lobster door hanger.

Much to your surprise, however, the door opened before your hand ever reached it.

And there, in front of you, looking just as shocked as you felt, was your boss and his wife.

“Mr— Mr. Hart?” you stammered, stumbling backward and almost dropping the plant under your arm. Remembering the last time you and your boss “conversed,” your friendly face twisted into more of a deer in the headlights look. “Mrs. Hart? What are... What are you doing here? You didn’t just move in, did—?”

“Is there a problem, Mr. and Mrs. Hart?”

Not only did you recognize the Harts but you recognized the British voice that came from behind them and the face that appeared with it.

“Vision?”

“[Y/N]?”

The two of you stared at each other in surprise. That is until Mr. Hart cleared his throat; he and Mrs. Hart still stood directly in front of you, with Vision unintentionally blocking them from stepping back inside. You yelped an apology and stepped to one side, then had to catch yourself on the doorframe as you almost tripped down the front steps.

“Yes, that’s right,” Mr. Hart said slowly as he stepped outside, giving you a particularly unpleasant look, “[Y/N] here lives in the neighborhood as well. Say, you live directly across the way, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded immediately with a tilt of your head in the direction of your home. Then you glanced over at Vision and raised the pot you held slightly for him to see. “I was just coming over to introduce myself and offer a housewarming gift.”

Mr. Hart gave a strained nod, clearly still out of sorts about your work performance today. “Well, we were just out the door after the first dinner with the Maximoffs.” He made it sound like having dinner with your boss, while important, was something more of a religious experience.

You hoped Vision did well.

“He did just fine,” Mrs. Hart piped in.

There you go, accidentally wondering things aloud again.

“Congrats!” you chirped in Vision’s direction. You noted that he seemed as uncomfortable being in this situation as Mr. Hart acted and you felt. Perhaps you should have just visited in the morning.

Out of the group, Mrs. Hart seemed to be the only one unphased. She gave your shoulder a friendly squeeze and complimented your outfit—the one that her husband eyed distastefully—then lowered her voice so only you could hear. “I heard about your little brawl at work today. Don’t get bent too out of shape about my husband’s behavior; he has to work the weekend and he’s about excited as a cat that doesn’t get fed on time. We’re still on for bridge this weekend, right?”

You always liked Mrs. Hart. She was a good counterweight to her ever so charming husband and she always made sure to make you feel at home here in Westview, even if you struggled to do so yourself. You gave her a smile and a nod. “Of course, ma’am. You look stunning tonight, by the way.”

“Charmer.”

As you were talking to Mrs. Hart, Vision settled things with the mister, and things finally seemed to be calming down. However, Vision was wishing the Harts a safe way home, and you gave them a “Good night!” and a wave while wondering if you should just go home yourself, when a clatter came from inside the—what was it?—Maximoff household.

A voice followed, “Vis? Is everything alright out there, dear?”

You felt yourself deflate a bit; you already forgot that Mr. Hart had mentioned Maximoffs. Maximoffs, not one Maximoff. You were somewhat disappointed that, from what it sounded like, your new dashing British acquaintance had a partner, not that it was a surprise. He must have had people throwing themselves at him at one point in his life before he settled on The One and they immediately got married and moved into their cozy-looking, bigger than your own, house. Or, perhaps, maybe he was the awkward one falling all over himself to impress the person of his interest and when they finally picked him, he felt like his heart exploded into a billion heart-shaped butterflies that found their home in his stomach.

Of course you were the only one on the block who was single and living alone.

You wondered if they had kids.

“... come in!”

You zoned back in from being lost in your thoughts to catch only the end of what Vision was saying. He stepped back from the doorway and held the door open for you and looked at you expectantly and, not wanting to make more of a fool of yourself that you already have in front of him today, you made your way inside, just hoping he hadn’t said anything important while you had been wondering about his romantic life. You felt heat on your ears and cheeks.

Vision, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Now that the Harts were gone, he appeared much more relaxed, leaning on the door with one leg crossed over the other and even smiling at you as you walked into his spacious and already unpacked living room.

That was the first time you’ve seen him smile, you noted. He had a very charming smile, one of those that made his eyes smile too and seemed much more in place on his face than any other expression.

Vision closed the door behind you as you looked around the space with mild surprise—how long have they been moved in? How had they gotten unpacked so fast?—then he gave you a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. It was then that you noticed more clattering coming from behind a door that you assumed belonged to the kitchen.

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment,” he said, making his way to said door, “As you know, my wife and I just finished dinner with the Harts, and my darling Wanda is doing all the dishes. I’ll tell her to wait a moment and come join us! Do you drink fluids?” You must have looked at him oddly because then he stumbled on his words a bit before clarifying, “Alcohol? Or would you like water, juice?”

He certainly did talk with his hands a lot. You liked the way he clasped his hands and fiddled with his fingers while trying to untangle his words.

“Water’s fine,” you replied with a friendly smile.

Seeing that you weren’t bothered by his slip-up, he smiled back and made his way into the kitchen. Halfway through the door, he chirped over his shoulder, “Please feel free to take a seat! I’ll return momentarily!”

Being alone again for only a few minutes still had you beginning to feel the weight of the day’s chaos again. You placed your housewarming gift on the coffee table and rubbed where the pot had been digging into your arm, then wriggled your toes; because these were shoes for special social occasions only, something you didn’t go to very often, they weren’t very well broke in and your feet were beginning to hurt.

The clattering in the kitchen had stopped but now the muffled voices of Vision and Wanda, which was somehow comforting. You looked around, taking in the classy but simple room. How on earth they’d managed to get unpacked so fast unless they used a company or stylist or somehow bought the place pre-furnished, you had no idea—well, you had a few, clearly. It was still surprising though. However they managed, you hoped your own living area looked half as nice. When you got around to it.

You perked up again as you heard the kitchen door creak… and then felt like your heart exploded into a billion heart-shaped butterflies that immediately found a home in your stomach.

If Vision was a dreamboat, his wife was a, well, literal vision. Wanda wore a dress that was just as simple and charming as the house she lived in, paired with a pretty necklace and pair of heels. Her curled hair perfectly framed her face and despite appearing as frazzled as Vision had when you first showed up at their doorstep, she wore a smile so gorgeous that your heart, which had apparently recovered from its explosion of butterflies, decided it preferred to do somersaults in your throat.

The pair of them were standing hip to hip with Wanda carrying a set of glasses and Vision a pitcher of water. They were chatting lightly about how well dinner went as they walked into the living room before turning their set of beaming smiles in your direction.

Your body couldn’t decide whether it wanted to melt, tie itself in knots, or spontaneously combust. You decided to make it stand to properly introduce yourself instead.

Just living in the same neighborhood as these two was going to be cataclysmic.

“Wanda, darling, this is my coworker [Y/N], the one I told you about earlier this evening.” Vision detached himself from his partner’s side and began snagging glasses from her hands to fill and place on the coffee table as she walked closer. “And [Y/N], this is my wife, Wanda.”

You and Wanda watched him hop around from her to the coffee table and back two more times with amusement, then Wanda looked at you and gave an incredulous shake of her head, offering her hand. “Hi, hon. Don’t mind him; he’s not usually this dancy but dinner with the boss was a bit unexpected on both our parts. I had to pull something together last minute and he’s trying to make up for it.”

“You did so much in such a short amount of time,” Vision added, finally settling on the couch beside Wanda after the two of you shook hands and got seated. “You deserve a break. I can handle filling a few glasses and doing up the dishes.”

“Speaking of which, I hope you got a break yourself, [Y/N].” Wanda’s comment and concerned look made your eyebrows raise with confusion. She elaborated, “Vision mentioned covering for you at work today.”

You flushed slightly and rubbed the side of your neck. Vision noticed and gave you an apologetic look.

“Oh, yes,” you replied, “I get these awful migraines sometimes. One just happened to hit me at a particularly bad time today and I fell and knocked over a bunch of files. Your husband was an angel, did something he absolutely didn’t need to do and said it was all his fault.”

“And yet you got punished anyway,” Vision said, still looking apologetic. He wrung his hands a bit as well; you wanted to hold them to make him stop.

Wanda did instead, giving him the sweetest smile in the process.

“But if it weren’t for you,” you chirped, “I may have just gotten fired. So I have to thank you for that. And I can’t imagine how that may have affected your dinner tonight, if I had known you were having the big boss dinner tonight, I wouldn’t have let you. I’m so sorry, by the way, for barging in immediately after your dinner, too; you two must be exhausted!”

“Oh, nonsense,” Wanda piped up again. She patted you on the wrist; you kind of wished she’d left her hand there but she went to pick up her water instead. “Dinner went quite well actually, if not a bit ill-planned. We had a bit of a misunderstanding of what the calendar said.” She gave Vision a playful glare and he responded with a bashful smile that he tried to hide by running a hand over his face.

“I drew a heart, for Hart,” he explained. “We forgot and thought we missed an anniversary instead.”

You thought back to when Mr. Hart mentioned the dinner at the office and Vision had made a heart with his hands, then tried to suppress a grin of your own. “That’s an easy misunderstanding. Happy to hear I’m not the only one good with planning, though, no offense.”

“Well, maybe you two should be married.” Wanda glanced between the two of you, the playful look in her dark eyes paired with her suggestion making your throat dry.

“You couldn’t remember it either, darling,” Vision countered, giving her a peck on the forehead, “If that’s the case, maybe all three of us were meant to be.”

You went to swallow and ended up having to suppress a choke. You reached for your glass, only to see it empty—when did you do that?—but Wanda was quick to refill it.

You gave her a sheepish smile and soft “Thanks” in return, took a drink and decided to play along. “That would explain why we ended up living directly across from the street and why I’ve been single almost my entire life.”

You mentally kicked yourself for mentioning that last part and coming off way too desperate. However, when you glanced the couple’s way, Vision was chuckling, and Wanda was giving an understanding nod with a pleased look on her face. Maybe she thought her joke was going to hit wrong? Maybe it hadn’t been a joke?

Don’t get your hopes up, you thought.

Then Wanda spoke again. “You must be joking. You’re living on your own in that house?”

You shrugged and responded, “I have a fish.”

“I’m sure they’re wonderful conversation,” Wanda quipped back.

“No romantic interest in sight?” Vision asked.

Well, I wouldn’t say that but I’m certainly not going into that right now. You shook your head and decided to shift the conversation to a topic that was less likely to make you feel, if either or both of them did happen to ask you to marry them at that very moment, as if you would immediately throw yourselves at them. “Speaking of houses and all that, what a coincidence that we happen to find each other living next door the same day we meet. That’s what I originally came over to do, introduce myself to my neighbors and give you a housewarming gift.”

You gestured to the pachira on the coffee table and Wanda reached over to touch its leaves, then used Vision’s still-full water glass to water it. “That’s right. It is a lovely plant, thank you very much. I think it will look nice in the kitchen, or perhaps over by the window.”

“It’s supposed to bring good luck to the house,” you offered, “and red ribbons are often associated with it but I’m not sure why.”

“Well here’s to good luck then,” Wanda said, clinking Vision’s empty cup with your half-full one. She read the card you’d attached, smiled, then picked up the plant and offered it to her husband. “Here, dear. Since you’re taking on the role of house-husband tonight, why not take this and see how it looks over by the window.”

Vision was already standing and taking the plant from her hands before she finished her sentence. “Of course, darling. Tell me where you think it looks nice.” Then he added to you as he walked by, “I may be skilled many things, like filling out computational forms, but the interior decorating is all her. I’m practically color-blind. And furniture-blind. And generally design-blind. Possibly blind-blind, if I’m being honest.”

Wanda rolled her eyes but she still giggled, then pointed out where she thought the plant would look best. It was off to one side of the window and she explained that she thought it would be visible from your window as well, and thus give both houses good luck.

“Maybe it will give me the luck to finally unpack and decorate like you two already have,” you pondered allowed, finishing off your water a second time; Wanda promptly offered to fill your cup again but you politely declined. “The two of you have been here, what? At least a few days now and your home is already made in the shade. I’ve been here in Westview a month if not more and I usually spend my time lounging on a couch made of crates and boxes.”

You noticed Vision glance oddly at his wife as he sat back down but Wanda didn’t seem to catch it. Still, she answered quite quickly, “We used a company.”

“Ah.” You glanced between them but the strained energy that suddenly appeared just as quickly as it came when Wanda gave you another sweet smile and offered to write down the company name for you. “No need, I couldn’t afford it anyway. Thank you, though.”

That response didn’t seem to please Wanda all that much. She pursed her lips in a way that looked partially pondering and partially pouty—it was a very cute pout—before leaning over to Vision and muttering in his ear. His attention was immediately drawn to focus only on her and they chatted quietly among themselves for a few moments.

You suddenly felt awkward again and took to looking around a bit. You first looked at your feet and noticed how close one of Wanda’s own was to yours; in fact, the three of you were sitting so close together that her dress poofed out over your leg. Then you happened to look over at where your arm was resting across the back of the couch. Vision’s was too and you suddenly became keenly aware of how, if he were to start talking with his hands like he does, his would most definitely brush your own. You wondered if it already had while you were too engrossed in conversation to notice, then you wondered if you should move farther to the other side of the couch.

You began shifting to do so when Wanda suddenly leaned back to her normal spot and grabbed your wrist. “Why don’t we come over sometime this weekend and help you unpack?”

You blinked. She seemed closer than she had been earlier, or maybe it was just the fact that hand hadn’t pulled away yet. Her eyes were as bright and welcoming as they had been since you first saw them, eyebrows raised in what you could only place as eagerness, and you officially decided that if you were to look up the word “sweet” in a dictionary, there’d be a picture of her smile.

You were so suddenly flustered that for a moment all you did was stare while you figured out how to talk again. When you did, you were surprised at confident your voice sounded when you replied, “Sure.”

“Great!”

Wanda and Vision looked equally excited when you looked at them both, which confused you before you remembered that you were only the second person from the neighborhood to visit them since they moved in. Thinking of it now, you were also feeling energetic from the conversation and not just because you happened to be sitting next to a very attractive-looking pair. This was the first time you sat down with people from the neighborhood and it did not only go well but you were thoroughly enjoying yourself; you also enjoyed spending time with Agnes but Agnes was just outwardly friendly to everybody and even if you ran out of things to say, she had enough stories to add filler to seven different conversations at the same time. Wanda and Vision seemed to be just as awkward as you, making unusual jokes that might not make it through and fumbling over themselves and on occasion just being awkwardly silent at times, but it was a weird kind of awkwardness that also felt comfortable, comforting. You felt like you were among friends.

Conversation flowed easily for the rest of the night. The three of you made plans to spend the next day at your place, unpacking and decorating and just getting to know each other better, then conversation shifted smoothly from one random topic to another. Wanda had a lot of questions about the neighborhood and the people in it and she and you swapped stories of first meeting Agnes. You were somewhat fascinated with Vision’s almost eidetic memory and couldn’t help quizzing him on random subjects but luckily, he seemed to be just as eager to answer. Wanda mentioned Vision’s ability to play ukulele at one point and he felt is was absolutely necessary to perform and after mentioning Wanda’s breakfast cooking ability—and your stomach grumbling in curiosity—she brought you to the kitchen and made the best breakfast you’d ever had, despite it not being morning, while Vision kept to his word and washed the dishes. Eventually, though, the night caught up to the each of you and you said your goodbyes, hugs included, at the door and you headed back home with a goofy grin on your face.

Upon getting home, you kicked off your shoes that you’d long since forgotten were causing your feet pain and went to your bedroom. You quickly stripped, put on your bedwear, and faceplanted onto your sheets. You laid there for a moment in comfortable bliss before turning your head and catching yourself in the mirror. Though looking utterly exhausted, it was mixed an almost childish happiness. You finally felt content in Westview, like you’d finally found your place.

You scrambled around to get under the covers and curled up. Quickly dozing off and still grinning, you muttered, “I think I’ll like it here.”

407 notes · View notes

thetravelerwrites · 3 years

Text

Urgan (Orc)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Male Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Orc, Male Reader, MLM, Gay Reader, Football Captain, College, Friends to Lovers Content Warnings: Alcohol Poisoning, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Unwanted Pregnacy, Mention of Abortion, College Drop-Out, Strong Language, Drug Use, Angst, Super Angst, ALL THE ANGST Words: 4385

A super duper angsty commission by the wonderful @severedreamerbeard! Urgan is the captain of his college football team and all around cool dude. He's an extremely reliable guy with his whole life ahead of him... until the woman he's been dating winds up pregnant, which turns his entire world upside down. The reader, Urgan's best friend, tries to help as much as he can while watching Urgan's life fall apart. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Urgan had been your best friend since preschool. You were human and he was an orc, but you were both jocks growing up, both in sports, both athletic. He’d been there with you through all the major events in your life. He was there when your parents divorced, when you came out as gay in middle school, and when the teammates who had once been friends started bullying you because of it. He was always there.

You hoped you had been as good a friend to him as he had been to you. You were there when his dad died, when his mom remarried someone he hated, and when his highschool sweetheart cheated on him. After all that, the two of you were closer than brothers.

College life was easier on both of you. You both had gotten a sports scholarship and found a friend group that was a lot of fun to hang out with. Parties were epic, classes were less so, but you were living the life and loving every second of it.

Then it changed. Not for everyone, not even for you. Or at least, it didn’t have to. You could have made different choices. It would have been far easier if you had, you were sure. But…

“How long have you been dating Kelly?” You asked him over a beer. The two of you were sitting out on the front porch of a house party currently in full swing.

“Who?” He snorted, half-asleep. He’d pulled an all-nighter the day before preparing for his psych exam.

“Kelly,” You said, pointing into the open door at the girl wearing a halter with a half-empty vodka bottle in her hand, some of which she’d spilled on her chest, grinding on another girl who was sucking the vodka off of her clavicle.

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘dating’,” He replied, throwing back a large swig of his beer. “Fucking, yes. I’m not trying to date anyone right now. I don’t have the time.” He threw his beer bottle into a large trash barrel and stood up. “Where’s Derek? He owes me fifty bucks.”

“For what?” You asked, standing up and following him through the house. He slapped Kelly’s ass as he passed her on the way inside, and she laughed.

“I borrowed it to buy coke three weeks ago,” He said.

“Didn’t he almost OD?” You asked.

“Yeah, but that ain’t my fault, I want my money,” Urgan said, muscling his way through the crowd.

“Don’t be an asshole, bro,” You said, still following him.

“I’m not being an asshole! It’s not like he learned anything, I bet you five bucks he’s doing coke right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet,” You laughed. “I don’t know of a time when he’s not on coke. I think he was high when we first met.”

“That’s my point. You know I’m cool about that stuff normally, but it’s affecting his performance on the field,” Urgan grumbled. “I’m team captain, and if he doesn’t straighten up, I have to kick him off the team, friend or not. We lost to E.U. because of him.”

You grimaced. E.U. had been your school’s rival for generations. The loss hurt and was a huge blow to Urgan. It didn’t help that it was televised nationally.

“If you kick him off the team, the other guys will be pissed,” You reasoned.

“I know that,” He said grumpily. “But managing the team internally is my job. If I don’t do something about it, coach will either demote me or kick me off with him for not handling it when I should have. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over some douchebag’s coke habit.” He made his way into the garage at the opposite end of the house and smacked a seated Derek on the back of the head. “Hey, Derek! Money! Now!”

“Dude, back off!” Derek protested. “I’ll get it to you when I get it, damn!”

“Not good enough,” Urgan said, kicking the mirror that was in front of Derek. Powder went flying.

“Hey!” Derek said, standing up and taking a swing at Urgan. Urgan ducked and caught Derek’s arm, pinning it behind him. He was always quick.

“Quit the coke or quit the team,” Urgan said, snarling. “We’re not losing another game because you’re too high to play.”

“The fuck are you talking about, man?” Derek said, struggling. “Don’t blame that shit on me! It’s not my fault you can’t organize your team!”

“I’m serious, dude,” Urgan said, pushing Derek to the ground. “I’m not getting punished for you. Straighten up or fuck off.”

“Suck my dick, asshole,” Derek said. He jerked his chin at you. “Or get your boyfriend to do it.”

Words like that were water off your back at this point, but it always riled Urgan up. You could already see him tensing.

“Let it go, dude,” You said, pulling him back. “Derek, seriously, you’re bringing the whole team down. Lay off the drugs, at least until after the championship.”

“Get the fuck out of my house if you’re going to act all high and mighty,” Derek said, pushing past you. “And you can forget that fifty bucks. It’s all over the ground now.”

Urgan’s fists were balled up and he was breathing hard.

“He’s not going to stop,” Urgan said.

“Come on, dude,” You said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re not going to accomplish anything here. Take it to the field. Show him why you’re captain.”

“I guess,” He said. “I’m hungry, man, let’s grab something.”

“Sure,” You said. “Kelly’s coming over to your place after the party, though, right?”

“Yeah, but she won’t be any shape to do anything but sleep. She knows where the key is, she’ll be fine.”

Finals were coming up, and most people were holed up in their rooms or dorms studying. Urgan was a decent student and never really worried about tests, though you hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days, which was odd. He could have been working a lot; he had a part-time job to pay for his own studio apartment. He said the dorms were too small for him.

“Urgan? No, I haven’t seen him in a week.” Joey said. Joey was a coworker from the bar where Urgan worked and also an ex-boyfriend of yours. You bumped into him at the university’s library while looking for Urgan. Urgan hadn’t answered his door when you went to check on him, so you figured he had to be here.

“Is he sick?” You asked, taking out your phone. You’d texted him awhile ago and you saw that he had seen it, but he hadn’t responded.

“I dunno,” Joey said. “All I know is that he asked the boss for some personal time. It could just be finals getting to him.”

You frowned. “Hmm… I’m going back to his apartment. He’s never been this quiet before. Something’s not right.”

“Tell him to come back to work. All the girls try to flirt with me when he’s not there. I need him to be my shield.”

You laughed and waved him off, heading out.

“Urgan!” You called, knocking insistently on his door. “Open the door! Are you alright?”

No answer. Frustrated, you got the spare key that was hidden in a slit of the doormat and unlocked the door. His apartment was dark and looked normal. Urgan was a fairly tidy guy, and nothing was really out of place.

“Urgan!” You called again, walking around the partition that obscured his bed. There he was, passed out on top of his blankets. There were empty bottles of liquor everywhere. Your heart stopped.

“Oh, fuck, please don’t be dead,” You said, crawling on the bed to slap him in the face. “Urgan, wake up!” His skin was cold, which scared the shit out of you, but after a minute feeling for a pulse on his neck you found a heartbeat, and you could see him breathing very slowly, so at least he was alive. But he wasn’t responding to your attempts to rouse him.

“Shit.” You took out your phone and called and called emergency services.

“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

“Hey, I need an ambulance, I think my friend has alcohol poisoning.” You said quickly, hoping it was intelligible, and gave them the address.

“Okay, sir, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m not sure, I just found him. I haven’t heard from him in days. He’s got a pulse, but he won’t wake up.”

“Is he cold to the touch?”

“Yes.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Slowly, but yes.”

“Can you make sure his airway is clear?”

You put the phone down and opened his mouth. There didn’t seem to be anything in the way.

“It’s clear,” You said.

“Alright, sir, I’ve got an ambulance on the way. Do me a favor and turn him on his side and bend the leg that’s on the top. Keep his airway clear and keep an eye on his breathing.”

“Okay,” You said, doing as the operator said and trying to keep calm.

The ambulance arrived within minutes, and after several moments of the EMTs attempting to wake him and failing, they loaded him in the rig. You were able to ride with him to the hospital. They took you both to a room, and you stood back as they began hooking Urgan up to all sorts of tubes and wires. They put a tube in his mouth because his breathing was weak and slowing down. They put him on a heavy saline drip and debated whether or not to pump his stomach. Eventually, they left him to rest and you sat with him.

“What the fuck is happening with you, man?” You asked him quietly as he slept.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and when you woke up, they were taking the air tube out of his throat. Urgan was awake and groaning in discomfort as it was removed.

“Dude, what the hell?” You said, standing up.

His eyes were bloodshot and he looked extremely sick, but at least he was awake. He waited for the doctors and the nurses to leave so that it was just you and him before he answered you.

“Kelly’s pregnant,” He said hoarsely. “It’s mine. She’s sure of it.”

“Oh, shit,” You said, sitting back down in the chair next to him. “I thought you used protection.”

“I do,” He said in frustration. “The condom must have broken or something. She told me she was on the pill. I don’t know what happened. I’m so fucking screwed.”

“You may not be,” You said, trying to comfort him, but you knew he was right. Being team captain meant that you put the team before everything. If you had another priority, you couldn’t be team captain. Not to mention the scandal of having a kid during the height of his college career would destroy his reputation and make him seem irresponsible. A baby right now was going to ruin him.

“Don’t bullshit me. I can’t show my face at school. Coach is going to kick my ass as soon as he finds out. My life is over.”

“Don’t talk like that, man,” You said. “What’s Kelly saying about all this? Has she told anyone?”

“No, not yet,” He said, covering his eyes. “Well, she hadn’t when I started drinking, but I don’t know if she has now.”

“She wants to keep it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get farther than ‘I’m having a baby and it’s yours’. And then I just started drinking and didn’t stop.”

“How far along is she?”

“Three months, she said.”

“How does she know it’s yours?”

“I was the only person she was sleeping with at the time. We were thinking about dating seriously, but it didn’t work out that way.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out, I guess.”

You frowned deeply. “She’s… been partying pretty hard in the last three months.”

Urgan rubbed his face. “I know. I’m scared shitless the kid is going to be born fucked up.”

“Do you… think you can talk her into giving it up? For adoption, I mean? She doesn’t seem like mom material.”

“I don’t know,” He said. “I don’t know what she’ll do.”

“What about…” You hesitated to mention it. “What about an abortion?”

“That’s her decision,” He said vaguely. “It’s her body.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, don’t,” He said. “I’ll do it when I’ve got my head on right.”

“Dude, look where you are right now,” You said, gesturing vaguely. “Let me at least call her.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

You took Urgan’s phone, which was in his back pocket when he was brought in, and called Kelly. She was surprised to hear about Urgan’s condition and said she’d come up to the hospital.

She arrived an hour later and you gave them some privacy to talk. It was a while, so you went to grab a soda. When you came back, Kelly was leaving with tears on her face. You went in and saw Urgan sitting up in bed. His eyes were red from crying.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

“No,” He said, wiping his face and sniffing. “She’s going to keep it. I’m leaving school.”

“What?” You said, coming around. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m gonna finish out the semester but I’m leaving before the baby is born. I have to find a better job. I’m hoping I can come back when the baby is a bit older, like when they start school or something, and finish my degree.”

“But you only have a year left! Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“No!” He shouted. “I don’t want to leave school! I’ve been dreaming of this scholarship since I was a kid! It was my dad’s dream! But I’m not going to be a deadbeat! I have to find a decent job before the baby is born. I don’t have a choice.”

You were stunned to silence and just listen to him breathe through his tears.

“Are you and Kelly staying together?”

“Fuck no,” He said vehemently. “We both know that would be stupid. She’s going to stay in school as long as she can. She’s supposed to be due in winter sometime, so I should have enough saved up by then to give her for the baby, to make sure they’re comfortable.” He scowled. “I’m sure Derek is going to be thrilled. I can just see the look on his face now.”

“Don’t worry about that jackass,” You said. “Dude, I… Is there anything I can do to help out?”

He shook his head. “Kelly and I are going to keep this quiet until the end of the semester so that we don’t have to deal with anyone bullshit. After that, we’ll start telling people.”

“You’re not going to tell your mom?”

“Not yet. I can’t face her yet. She’s going to be so disappointed in me.” His tears began to fall again, and all you could do was put a hand on his shoulder and be there for him.

“I won’t say anything to anyone,” You told him. “I’m still your best friend, no matter what. If you need anything, you know I got you.”

“Thanks, man,” He said, his voice breaking.

Urgan finished out school as he planned, barely scraping a passing grade, and then notified everyone that he wouldn’t be returning. As expected, his coach was furious, his mom was disappointed, and the team was dumbfounded. Derek was the only person who seemed to be enjoying the situation.

During summer, he asked for an amniocentesis, both to prove whether or not Urgan was the father, and also to check for any genetic conditions, since Kelly’s family had a history of genetic diseases. Urgan was hoping that she was lying about only sleeping with him around the time she conceived and that he would wind up not the father so he could go back to school, but the test was conclusive. The baby was his.

Urgan found work pretty quickly at a seafood processing plant near town. It was grueling work and it didn’t pay much, but it was a full-time job and had healthcare benefits, which was the best he could hope for in these circumstances. He began saving immediately to buy clothes and diapers for his kid, which he recently found out was a little girl, and was in frequent contact with Kelly. He didn’t attend any of the doctor’s visits at Kelly’s request. Not that he wanted to be there in the first place.

You continued with college and partied like a normal college guy, stayed on the football team, and was promoted to captain. Urgan seemed happy for you and gave you pointers on leadership. If he resented you for it, he gave no sign.

Many of Urgan’s old friends, mostly team members, dropped him immediately. They no longer invited him to parties or events, and when you mentioned inviting him, they shot you down. As far as you knew, the only one who still stood by him was you, and you couldn’t be there as much as you wanted to as you now had responsibilities with the team.

Even still, if he called, you dropped what you were doing and went over. You promised you’d be there, and you were going to keep that promise. He was your best friend and you were going to stand with him. No matter what.

Urgan’s daughter, Roga, was born in November. She was small, even for a half-orc. You were there in the waiting room for the birth with the grandparents. It might have been your presence that stopped them from being at each other’s throats; the animosity in the air was palpable. Kelly’s dad was there, looking not-best-pleased at Urgan’s mom, despite her being nearly twice his size, but no harsh words were said.

Urgan came out in the full paper surgical outfit, holding the baby. He even seemed happy.

“Here she is,” He said, holding her out for the grandparents to see.

“Oh, isn’t she precious,” Urgan’s mom, Reana, said. “She’s got your eyes, Urg.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling. “She looks a bit like dad, don’t you think?”

“She does!” Reana said brightly. “That nose definitely looks like his.”

The grandparents took turns holding the baby, and then went in to see the mother.

“Hey,” Urgan said to you, the only one left in the room. “Do you want to hold her?”

You chuckled nervously. “I dunno, man, I’ve never held a baby.”

“Neither have I, before today,” He said. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to offer since everyone else got to.”

“Yeah, but they’re family.”

“You’re family, too,” He said, looking at you like you were being an idiot.

You smiled a little and held out your arms, and Urgan carefully lay the baby into them. She was small and squishy and her face was all wrinkly. Babies all looked like potatoes to you. But she reached out and yawned and grabbed at your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s cute,” You said, letting her grip your finger.

“Yeah,” He said, grinning.

“How’s Kelly?”

“She hates my guts, but she’s okay.” Urgan reached out to take the baby, and you handed her over. “I should take Roga back. The lactation specialist wants to work with her.”

“I didn’t know there was a such thing as a lactation specialist,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” Urgan said. “The last nine months have been extremely informative.”

You snorted. “I bet.”

He took the baby back to Kelly and you sat in the waiting room, feeling a little awkward. Why were you here? You weren’t really family. You knew you were supporting Urgan, but… he didn’t really need you there right now. He seemed fine. Happy even, considering the circumstances. Maybe… maybe you should go. You really didn’t belong here.

You texted Urgan to let him know something had come up and to call you if you needed him, and he told you that it was okay, and to be careful going home. As you left, you sighed in relief. But you also felt a little guilty.

Six months later was graduation. You finished top of your class and made valedictorian. You knew that if Urgan had still been in school, he’d have gotten that honor, but…

Urgan didn’t come to graduation, and you understood why. Kelly crossed the stage and accepted her diploma, and you couldn’t help feel a little resentful at her, despite the fact that it wasn’t her fault that Urgan wasn’t there, either. They really had done everything they were supposed to do--used protection, used birth control, was careful--but things just happen sometimes. Even still, it felt like Urgan was the one who had sacrificed the most and had gotten nothing in return.

You managed to get a job at an accounting firm almost immediately after graduation. It was a boring job but the money was good. You were hoping it would be a stepping stone to a better career later.

Since getting the job, you hadn’t really seen or spoken to Urgan much. You were still his best friend, but… you had your own life to live. You felt guilty about it, but your world couldn’t stop just because his had.

Urgan was still working at the fish processing plant, working long hours to support Roga. Urgan was basically paying Kelly’s rent and bills plus everything Roga needed for both homes, since he took her on the weekends from Friday night to Monday morning, when he dropped her off on the way to work.

However, a month after graduation, Urgan called you in a panic.

“Kelly’s gone,” He said. “She’s left. I got a text from her saying she’s gone to Canada.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. “Did she take Roga?”

“No, I’ve got her here.” He said, his voice shaking. “When she texted me, I was scared she had run off with the baby, but she left Roga with her stepdad. I just picked her up and I’m bringing her back home with me.”

You felt terrible for hoping Kelly had taken Roga with her to Canada. Even though you knew it wasn’t Roga’s fault, all you wanted was for Urgan’s life to go back to normal. You just wanted him to have the things he should have had if Roga hadn’t been born. And you hated yourself for thinking that.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” He said. He sounded extremely distressed. “Can you meet me at my apartment, please? I need someone to talk to. You’re all I have left.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there,” You said, picking up your keys.

“Thank you,” He said, and then hung up. He was audibly crying.

You made it to Urgan’s apartment before he did, and you saw him step out of the elevator carrying a ton of baby stuff in one arm and hauling Roga in her carseat in the other.

“Can you take her, please?” Urgan said. He looked pale and in shock.

“Yeah, of course,” You said, taking her carrier and looking inside. She was sleeping with a stuffed griffon clutched in her baby hands. “Is she okay?”

“I think so,” He said, unlocking his door. His apartment was strewn with kid stuff. It was so much different than the last time you’d seen it.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” He said, dropping the load he was carrying in the middle of the floor.

“Dude, I don’t care about the mess, are you okay?” You asked.

“I…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was visibly shaking. “I don’t know if I can do this alone. I had accepted being a dad, but I don’t know if I can be… the only parent. I… I don’t know any babysitters for when I’m working. I don’t… is she off breastmilk? When was her last check up? When is she supposed to see the doctor again? Kelly didn’t tell me those things because I.. I figured she had it handled. I was making sure they had everything they needed. I didn’t think I’d…”

“Okay, calm down,” You said. “Roga is fine. You can find all of that stuff out. I’ll help, I’ll help however I can, okay?”

“Okay,” He said, sitting on his couch heavily. “Okay.” He reached down into her carseat and unstrapped her, putting her against his shoulder, clutching her as if she was a warm stone and he was freezing. He was certainly shaking like he was.

This was the first time you’d seen Roga since she was born. Now that she’d had a chance to grow, she did look a lot like Urgan. It made you feel worse for resenting her.

“Look, can you watch her for a few minutes?” He asked suddenly. “I’m almost out of formula and I didn’t expect to have her right now. I was going to go Thursday to stock up. I don’t want to run out.”

“I…” You hesitated.

“Please,” He begged quietly. “Please. Ten minutes. I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay.”

He transferred Roga from his shoulder to yours. Uncertainly, you gripped her firmly.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Urgan said, and he was out the door.

There was a rocking bassinet near Urgan’s bed behind the divider, and you settled Roga in it, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form.

“I wish I didn’t hate you,” You told her, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. “But you took everything from him. I know it’s not your fault, but it doesn’t change anything. He’ll never be the man he should have been because of you.”

Roga sighed in her sleep and snugged into her bed without waking. You did nothing but sit on Urgan’s bed and stare at her the entire time Urgan was gone, allowing yourself to hate her and Kelly and the team at school and everyone who turned their back on Urgan when he needed them the most. When Urgan returned, your tears had dried, and you left.

Roga was still sleeping.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Monster Boyfriend #Orc #MLM #Male Reader #Reader Insert #Children #Babies #Pregnancy

169 notes · View notes

write-ur-wrongs · 3 years

Text

Be Your Man

A/N: I know I say it every time, but seriously, thank you SO MUCH for your requests, anon or otherwise. It means the world to me that you trust me with your visions. Here’s a requested fic inspired by the song “Be Your Man” by Rhys Lewis! It’s angsty and has the slightest hint of smut if you look really hard. As always, there are no physical descriptions of the reader! I hope you like it - I cried at the end lmao.

It’s not proof-read so I apologize in advance!! I really hope you like it.

_______________________________________________________

Being with the bard was, in a word, comfortable.

His connections ensured you always had a soft bed in a warm inn waiting for you at the end of the day. His reputation and acclaim afforded you a higher status among villagers, scholars, and even knights. Everyone loved his music and adored his visits. With him, you were always welcome.

With him, every day was a gift and every evening a celebration. With him, you never found yourself in harm’s way. Never felt the gnawing pull of hunger or the ache of thirst. He never left your side and you had no reason to leave his. And he loved you, he really did. He showed you everyday, through his songs, his words, his touch.

You were his sun and you were, for lack of a kinder word, comfortable.

That isn’t something you were used to, being comfortable. Your life had been tumultuous from the start and you had hardened yourself accordingly. Everything you had you’d earned as a journeying blacksmith; working whatever you could to make a sale. Now though, having access to any workshop, material, or tradesman the continent could offer, you were at the height of your craft.

But still, nothing could ever compare to the blade you forged for Geralt.

It was stunning, perfectly balanced, crafted from your best steel and iron Geralt had been gifted from the mines of Mahakam. The ornate curve of the hilt took you days to perfect and the faceted garnet you’d set within the pommel shone brilliantly with a clarity that royal houses across the continent would envy.

“It’s exceptional,” he murmured, completely in awe, while examining your work, “how you manage to make your blades look so intricate without sacrificing quality, I’ll never understand.”

You bit your smile to keep yourself from gushing as you watched him wield the sword as if it was an extension of him. And it should be, as you crafted it with him in mind.

“Whoever buys this will be one lucky bastard,” he said as he came out of a mock-parry and pirouette.

“Oh, I’m not selling it!” you said, shaking your head at him as he sheathed the weapon.

“What? Y/N this could get you four maybe five hundred Novigrad crowns! Did someone commission you for it?”

“No, no, it’s a gift.”

“Y/N you are far too generous.” He admonished, attempting to hand the sword back to you.

“Hush, it’s for you.” You say, laying your hands over his, your eyes sparkling.

Gods the way he looked at you then. The way his face softened when you laid your hands over his, how his breath hitched when you took a step towards him. Your bodies so close, eyes flitting from his hooded lids to his lips, and when you finally –

“We’re just about there, darling!” Jaskier sang, pulling you out of your reverie just as the familiar ache began pulling at your lower belly.

“Ah! Y-yes! Wonderful!”

“Well look at you, you’re blushing! Are you remembering the last time we were here?” He teased flirtatiously, giving your thigh a squeeze.

“Mm you know me well,” you lied, quickly taking his hand in yours to get it off your thigh. “How much farther, would you say? I’m starving.”

“Not too long, darling.” He said softly, glad that you were watching the forest with rapt attention, and praying the sting of your deflection wouldn’t be too obvious should you turn to meet his eyes. You didn’t turn to look at him though, and that filled the bard with both relief and immense sadness.

Jaskier wasn’t a fool, he recognized your guilt, sensed the way your heart longed for another. But every now and then, when it was just the two of you, he was sure he saw joy in your eyes. You loved him, maybe not quite as he loved you, but he was certain you loved him.

She just loves him more. He smiled at you sadly, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand in silent resignation.

“God, I fucking love these beds!” you sighed blissfully, rolling onto your back. The pair of you had meant to get your room and then head out into the village to find work but you hadn’t been able to ignore the fire the earlier memories had ignited.

“Careful my sweet, or I’ll start to think you’re only with me for the fine accommodations.” Jaskier chanced, hoping you’d finally say the three words he so desperately wanted to hear you say, and see that you meant it.

“Ha! Shut up, Jask.” You laughed lightly, snuggling into his arms where you couldn’t catch the disappointment in his eyes, and where he couldn’t see the sadness in yours. Don’t go there, Y/N, you thought, Jask is Jask, and he loves you just fine.

“Why don’t you let me,” you whisper, peppering his neck and jaw with kisses between words, desperate to get your mind off your witcher, “show you how much I love you?”

“Aa-euhm…” Jaskier let out a breathless squeal as your hand creeped between his thighs and he let himself be lost in your touch. Maybe, he thought, good enough could be enough.

You’d given up on the idea to go out to find work long before the sun had set on the village, but that surely didn’t keep work from finding you. The pair of you had barely settled yourselves at the table when you were recognized and showered in contracts.

“Please, madam, I know it’s not the priceless blades you normally work with, but my pots and pans are in desperate need to be replaced –”

“Of course, miss Eldridge,” you interrupted the inn’s owner gently, placing a light hand over hers to calm her nerves, “it would be a pleasure to help you. I’ve recently been working with new casting molds, and it would be an honour to sell you my first.”

“Oh, my! Thank you, Y/N, thank you!”

“No, thank you – this stew is easily the best we’ve ever had! It would be a crime if you weren’t able to keep serving.”

“Oh, you’re too kind!” she laughed humbly, giving your arm a squeeze in thanks before walking back to the kitchen.

You were beaming as you watched the woman practically skip back behind the heavy wooden door.

“What? Why are you staring?” you asked Jaskier, bringing your beer up for a long sip.

“I love watching you work; you shine like the stars on a winter’s night.” He said, reaching over to hold your hand in his.

“Ugh, Jask,” you groaned, wrinkling your nose at his poetics. “You’re such a cheeseball,” you teased him lightly, as you’d done many times before, but this time something flashed in his eyes.

“Hey! I know you were never showered in compliments when you were with Geralt, but-”

“What?!” you interrupted, practically spitting out your last sip.

Jaskier merely leaned back in his seat and gave you a one-shouldered shrug. You could tell he was trying to be aloof but in the six months you’d been together, the topic of Geralt had been a like a landmine. Someone always got hurt, actually, you both ended up hurt.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m not wrong here, love.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jask. It was a beautiful sentiment, really! I’m just – y-you know how I am with this kind of stuff.”

“I know, dear” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on his drink.

“I adore your work,” you added, your nerves heightened by his apparent sense of calm, “I’m just not… always comfortable being the subject.”

“My expressions of love make you uncomfortable now?” he scoffed, looking up at you with big, sad eyes.

“No! No, Jask. T-that’s not what I meant!” you put your drink down and scooted closer to him to take both his hands in yours. “Jaskier, please… I love you. This is how I love, it-it’s who I am, it’s how I am. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll be your star.”

Jaskier only shook his head slowly as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve seen you in love, Y/N. I believe you love me,” he said, giving your hands a squeeze, “but you’re not in love with me.”

“That isn’t true, Jask.” You whispered, blinking back heavy tears. You held his hands so tightly now, as if afraid he’d just disappear into thin air before you.

“It is though, and that’s okay.”

“Jaskier…”

“You know, you always use my name,” he said, nodding slightly as he thought, “not always my full name, but alas.”

You opened your mouth to disagree but couldn’t bring yourself to use a pet name, and so your mouth opened and closed silently like a fish. The bard looked at you knowingly with his large, knowing eyes, full of love but still heavy with sadness.

“Jaskier,” you finally conceded, feeling yourself crumble under his heavy gaze, “what’s happening?” you asked, your voice coming out of you like a strangled whisper.

“What do you want to happen?”

“I can’t lose you too.”

“‘Too’.” He repeated flatly.

You wanted to comfort him, to correct him, but nothing was coming to you. He wasn’t wrong, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him now.

“Why are we doing this now, Jask? I thought we were doing okay. I thought we were happy,” you finally managed to ask, your voice shaky.

“Look, I’m,” he tried, his own voice breaking despite himself, “I know I can’t compare with him.” He waited a beat to see if you’d interrupt him with a correction and when you didn’t, he rested his elbows on the table and leaned closer to you and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I know how you feel. How you’ve… been feeling. Y/N, Geralt is here. He walked in not long ago, and he’s sitting at the back the of bar.”

Everything went blurry. You could tell he was still talking to you it was like your ears were stuffed with cotton – everything was muffled but too loud. You were going to pass out. Or throw up. Or both. Every inch of you was screaming to turn around and look for him, but you were frozen in place like a deer who’d spotted the archer and heard the bow snap but just stood stock-still and let the arrow hit.

“Y/N,” Jaskier pulled your hands closer to him, pulling you back to reality along with them, “I made the decision that I’m okay being your second choice,” he swallowed thickly before continuing, “but now I need you to make a choice.”

You felt as though you’d just been struck. He was looking at you with too much kindness, too much understanding, too much compassion. Holding his gaze made you feel as though a knife was being twisted into your chest, but you were so afraid that if you looked away, he’d leave you.

“My dove,” he says softly as if reading your mind, “I love you and no matter what you chose I’ll be there for you, always. I just want you to be truly happy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to keep more tears from falling, but upon feeling him get up to leave the table, your eyes shot open and you let the tears fall.

Very softy, Jaskier cradled your face in his hand and gave your forehead a lingering kiss before pulling away.

“I’m going to head upstairs… I’ll see you up there?” he whispered hopefully.

You nodded up at him wordlessly and let the tears fall as you watched him head up the stairs.

Left alone, you wrapped your arms around yourself and bit your cheek until you tasted blood to keep yourself from openly sobbing. The bustle of the inn allowed you some sense of privacy, which you appreciated, but it also exacerbated your loneliness. Letting out a shaky breath, you poured the rest of your drink into your mouth and swished it around to wash away the blood before swallowing.

Jaskier knew. All these months you thought you were the only one hurting, the only one who felt the weight of the witcher’s memory, but you were wrong. Gods were you ever wrong.

You felt terrible, and far too sober. You quickly swiped at your tear-soaked face, picked up your empty stein and turned to make your way to the bar.

But then you saw him.

He was alone, as always, wearing the thick wool cape you loved. The hood wasn’t up so you could see that his snow-white hair was a mess of knots. His eyes were fixed on his drink, so you were saved from meeting his gaze. Gods, you’ve missed him, and fuck he looked good. And tired. Your heart broke at the sight of him.

Then he looked up at you and your breath caught in your throat. His rich, golden eyes were looking straight at you… and they were vacant. He was looking through you, not at you; he didn’t remember you or care to, and your already broken heart shattered once more.

I am nothing to him, you thought somberly, exchanging your empty mug for a full one. You took a deep, shaky breath and downed your beer in one go, slamming the stein back down decisively. But I’m everything to him, maybe that will be enough.

Before heading up the stairs to where you knew the bard was waiting, you allowed yourself one last look at Geralt, only to find he wasn’t at his table anymore. Seems the fates had decided for you, your thought, letting a hollow laugh escape your lips.

The staircase wasn’t especially long, but the trip up felt unending. You took every step slowly, allowing yourself these brief moments of grief over the official loss of your witcher before you committed yourself fully to Jaskier. No more daydreams, no more longing, no more imagining his large, strong arms around you while the bard’s sinewy frame enveloped you.

You had just about convinced yourself that you’d made the right decision when you spotted him, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs.

“G-Geralt,” you breathed, feeling yourself smile despite yourself.

“Y/N.”

“What, um, how – uh, hi,” you stuttered, needing to look up at the ceiling to keep yourself from completely melting under the burn of his gaze.

“Hm,” he hummed, taking a hesitant step towards you, “still the wordsmith I see.”

“Hilarious,” you retorted, falling effortlessly back into your habits. “I’m happy to see you’ve still got my blade,” you said, nodding to the sword behind his back.

“Of course,” he breathed, now dangerously close to you. “I take you with me everywhere.”

“You mean my blade?” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“No.” he said, his eyes boring into you, sparking the flame you’d spent so long trying to tamp out. “Are you here with him?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“You know I am.” You replied defensively, irrationally angry to hear him bring up the bard.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine,” you spat, but seeing the way Geralt’s eyes softened knowingly at you, you couldn’t help but to backpedal your aggression. “He’s Jaskier, you know? All silver linings and sunshine.”

“I’m sure,” he murmured, casting his eyes downward as he remembered his friend’s almost insufferable positively. “And you? Are you happy?”

“Geralt…” you practically groaned, crossing your arms to keep the heat radiating off of him from taking over you.

“Are you?” he insisted, reaching over to let his warm, calloused fingers ghost over your forearm. The feeling lit your body on fire and left an obvious layer of goosebumps in their wake.

He was standing so close to you know, you could smell the leather, cedar, and smoke emanating off of him, just like it always had. You could feel his breath on your face. Despite yourself, you looked up at him through your lashes. His proximity was intoxicating, inexplicably comforting.

“This is cruel… you’re being cruel…” you whispered, wiping stubborn tears away but not taking a step in any direction, unable to risk his leaving if you were to move.

“Y/N…”

“He loves me, Geralt, so much.” You insisted, almost like a mantra.

“But are you happy?” Now he was whispering. He sounded sad, his deep gravelly voice melting over you like sunlight after a frozen night.

“Geralt –” you warned, shaking your head.

“Answer me.”

“No. I-I’m not.”

“You’re not going to answer me?”

“I’m not happy.” You conceded, the truth of the statement washing over you as you heard yourself say it.

“Me either.”

You looked up at Geralt then, letting yourself take in the sight of him in full; his eyes, big and sad and fierce as ever, his brows furrowed, creating that deep crease you so desperately wanted to reach up and soothe, his mouth, his lips. You were barely inches from each other now, all you had to do was tip your chin, stand a little straighter…

He closed the gap between you then, his lips crashing into yours hungrily. You fully surrendered yourself to him, reveling in the feeling of his body against yours and you let yourself be happy, insanely, deliriously happy, for the first time in months.

***

Jaskier sat on the edge of the bed, his head in both hands, and sobbed. His broken breath echoed around the empty room, sporadically drowning out the sound of his best friend kissing the love of his life on the other side of the door.

She was never mine, he thought as sobs broke through him.

She was never mine.

74 notes · View notes

quelfabulous · 3 years

Text

Exciting Career Announcement!

Hi fam! I have some BIG news! I’m excited to announce that I accepted a job offer as a full time UI Artist on SMITE at Hi-Rez Studios starting in January!

This news comes with some big changes and poses some important questions going forward. But first I want to say how incredibly grateful and blessed I am to have gotten to know so many wonderful art peers and supporters over the last few years. I joke and say my streams are made possible by you in the PBS voice but it’s true. Everyone who commissioned me, supported patreon, subbed to my twitch, purchased my brushes, prints & t-shirts-- all of you have contributed to my livelihood and growth during this 3 year period. I can’t thank you enough & I hope in my next career chapter, I can pay it forward in helping other creative peers get closer to a comfortable & meaningful career path.

Now for the questions...What does this mean for my patreon, streams, learning content & passion project going forward?

Patreon & Commissions While December will remain active, Patreon will be paused for January and possibly February 2022. This will be a short pause while I figure out my new time schedule, but ultimately I want to continue streaming, mentoring, & sharing personal content with you. This month, I will be making a super clean PSD & tutorial with my Endwalker piece that I’ll be streaming on Thursdays, and all the works in progress in the discord to go along with it.

I’m also hosting a massive art / writing trade gift exchange in our discord that I’m super excited for. See the 🎄│holiday-elf-exchange-2021 channel to sign up!

I will no longer be taking private commissions. If you are in the Tavern Lager tier currently for commission openings, you might want to hop down to a lower tier for December. I’m sorry I will not be able to fulfill a final commission opening, but its very important that I do not cause myself burnout during onboarding for the new job. There are possibilities that I will open private commissions again next year in small batches. Those of you who supported me at this tier and I did not have the opportunity to work with you, you will be considered first. I will be re-structuring all tiers during the pause. After I get a feel for my new workload, I may possibly reopen in February with the following tiers:

$35 Mentorship Tier: I will no longer be offering the House Tea full mentorship tier. I will be condensing both remaining tiers into the basic $35 tier and instead of a monthly lesson, we will have monthly group critique/hangout sessions as a class.

$5 NoxQuel Support Tier: Same cost as a twitch sub, this tier would be for folks who want to continue supporting the development of Drums of Atelaer, funding for Discord boosts & hosting costs, and getting early access to any and all personal art/tutorials I do.

$2 NoxQuel Support Tier, but more affordable. Tip jar lite.

Streams I would like to keep working with the DeviantArt Collective but its also very hard for me to know at this time what energy I will have left over at the end of my new workday. What I can tell you now is that I want to continue Horsin’Around on Monday nights. I will have a better picture of a future stream schedule after my first month of work. I will keep you folks in the loop. Streams may shift from art production to art talks.

Drums of Atelaer @drumsofatelaer The beauty of having a full time job is now my financial prioritization nightmare of freelance is eliminated, which means 100% of my personal art time can re-focus on my passion projects and characters.

These next few months will be an adjustment period & I hope we can continue sharing our journeys and worlds we’re building with one another.

#announcement #life

43 notes · View notes

vicious-vixxxen · 4 years

Text

Ugh. I’ll I’ve been able to think about for days is Kirishima.

Pro Hero Red Riot is always on the move. Always busy. Saving people, doing interviews, kissing babies, the whole nine yards.

When you and Kiri started dating fresh out of UA you knew what you were signing up for. Being part of the hero support course yourself, never afforded you much grandeur or fame, but that was okay. You were trusted with one of, if not the most important part of a hero’s identity- their suit. You were more than happy to tinker away at revisions, or sketching new styles for up and comers, than being out on the field.

You were the only one in the support class, even above Power Loader himself, who Kirishima took his costume and ideas to. You’d made the very first alterations to his hero costume when he first arrived at UA, after the USJ attack. From then on it was sort of a wonderfully professional relationship. As professional as someone like Kiri could be- all large toothy grins, bad jokes, and hands on communications. /Very/ hands on. Kirishima never thought twice about leaning over your shoulder to watch you sketch up the inner workings of other suits, breath ghosting the shell of your ear, always warm and sweet, like all he consumed was candy.

Or sitting next to you, thighs and sides flush as you grew frustrated over his helmet design. He’d snicker and lay one large hand over your own- because by his third year he was already towering over half the staff, let alone the students- to drag your pencil in a different direction, voice soft and secret, just for you.

You never spoke outside of the support class really, especially as the years progressed. Kiri was class 1A after all, and as your own talents started to blossom, the busier you were kept as well. Being consulted to help pros with their designs in just your second year.

But you treasured the hours after school you got to spend with Kirishima. He’d never struck you as particularly male leaning, so while you’d entertain the idea sometimes, in the privacy of your dorm room, of being Kirishima’s boyfriend, you didn’t allow it to mess up the relationship you’d built with the other boy. You chalked it up to your first real crush, and, having always been an overtly rational individual, knew you’d work through it sooner or later. Unwilling to entertain the idea of not even being friends with Kiri. Cuz being his friend would always be better than nothing at all.

But imagine your surprise, the day after graduation, when he arrived at your doorstep. Flowers and chocolates in hand, and a thick envelope nearly bursting at the seams, filled with letters he’d been writing to you over the course of your high school careers.

Apparently, Kirishima hadn’t wanted to trouble you with his feelings when you two were so focused on school, and absorbing as much as you could, and for good reason. But now, he’d stated so clearly- the hesitance behind his wavering grin made your chest tight- you were both adults, out in the world, and if you’d have him, he’d love to take you out.

The rest was sort of history.

Three years later, still going strong.

Though Red Riots newest ranking- from his wavering 7-8, all the way up to 4, had meant an influx in work the last 3 weeks. Kirishima been all over Japan, helping out on various reconnaissance missions, interviews of the rising hero variety, and just generally being kept busy by his agency.

Kiri popped in ever few days, when he could. A quick dinner and cuddle till he had to leave again. A nice long Skype session as he was flown to a new mission, if you were lucky. But the two of you always made things work. You loved each other too much to even entertain the idea of your professional loved interfering to the point of no return, in your personal lives.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t hard, but it did mean it was a manageable. Especially when the two of you tried so hard.

And your combined hard work paid off. Kirishima had been praised internationally, after a mission he was brought in for in Europe went fantastically. The Japanese Hero Commission splashing Red Riot on the front page of anything that consisted of pages, honestly. And awarding him privately with paid time off.

Paid. Time. Off.

That had been yesterday, Friday evening. You’d both returned home late, and despite how tired you both were, it didn’t stop you from fully christening some new sheets you’d bought, before passing out together.

The christening of which you recalled as you sat, sprawled out on the sofa in the living room- one leg thrown back over the back of the sofa, the other extended out towards the opposite end. A book in hand in front of you, free arm cradled behind your head. Trying to focus on the pages, as the bright, early morning sun splashed across them.

Which was hard, when all you could focus on was the blossoming bruises on your inner thighs, and pleasant ache in your ass, and the sting of the bite on your neck whenever you turned your neck even a fraction.

The night previous had been rushed, all teeth, and gnawing, and clawing, and racing towards the end together. It was wonderful, and you’d always loved the aftermath Kirishima would leave on your body. Ever the closet possessor he was.

He’d never been much of an early riser, so it was another two or so hours of trying and failing to read for you, before the familiar sounds of large, lumbering footsteps could be heard slowly making their way downstairs. You smiled, cheeks flushing, despite the many years you’d known the man, as you caught a glimpse of his wild, shoulder length red hair first. Soft at the tips, wild at the root. Kirishima yawned, ducking below the entryway into the living room, and just barely catching you staring, before you lifted your book higher to block his view of your face.

You could practically hear the grin behind his chuckling, as he stalked towards you with more purpose now. His legs in view under your book, and his hair a plum of red above the top as he crouched at the edge of the sofa. Two large hands cupping each of your feet- teasing your toes briefly, snickering at how you giggled behind your book.

Kirishima’s eyes raked over you slowly- noting what seemed to him, as miles of gorgeous, unblemished skin, ready to be marked up. Clad in just a pair of briefs you’d thrown on before coming downstairs, almost every inch of you was bare to your husband. Kirishima drinking it in slowly, as he crawled above you on the sofa. Hardening just one fingertip, and tracing it from your ankle, all the way up to your inner thigh, as he towered over you on the sofa finally. The prick of sharpness on the soft flesh of your thigh causing a hitch in your breath. Which you held, until Kiri’s finger turned smooth once more, and he took a handful of the meatiest part of your thigh into his hand, and /squeezed/.

((NSFW warning ahead, I can’t help myself so continue reading at your own risk ;3))

“Ei-Chan,” you breathed out finally, setting your book down on the floor beside you. Bright red eyes meeting yours, as one of your hands found it’s way into Kirishima’s thick locks, the other wrapping around his broad back, palm settled just between the mans shoulder blades.

“Marked you up good last night, huh pebble?” Kirishima snickered, and you huffed. Faux annoyed as you smacked the mans back, tensing once more as Kiri’s fingers danced along the bruises and bite marks littering your thigh. Tapping each one gently, causing you to flinch with pleasure each time, before he moved to your other thigh. Doing the same, as he dipped his face down into the crook of your neck, and just breathed.

The shaky sigh he let out afterwards was victory enough for you, you reasoned, as even the mans strong shoulders shook as he breathed you in.

“Missed me that much, huh?” Kirishima nodded quickly, nosing along your neck, huffing like a puppy as he went.

“I missed you too,” you reminded him, biting into the mans shoulder gently, as the hand on his back drifted down to Kirishima’s ass, and you shook it jokingly. Feeling the weight of the mans cheek jiggle in your palm, laughing despite yourself as Kiri growled at you.

“Don’t tease me, dude,” Kiri mock cried, pulling back to give you a pout, as the hand on your inner thigh drifted center again, where, unprompted, Kirishima cupped your cock through your underwear. Smirk tugging at his bitten lips- bad habit he’d always had, you’d long since stopped trying to get him to fix it- as he ground his palm against you, almost too rough, and you groaned. Eyes fluttering shit, lip between your own teeth as he bucked up, shifting your hips just right to grind your quickly stiffening cock against Kirishima’s hand.

“So eager,” Kirishima mused, balking suddenly as you moved your hand cupping his ass, into his boxers- palming at his cheek briefly, before two fingers delved into the hot cleft of his bubble butt, brushing just briefly against the tight pucker of his hole, causing the larger man to twitch, and fall flat against you. Tense for all of two seconds, before he propped his ass back up, and wiggled against your fingers.

“You’re one to talk,” you laughed, head tilted back, long enough for Kirishima to latch onto your Adam’s apple, and suck hungrily as he continued to stroke you through your underwear. Lasting all of two seconds, before shredding through them with a finger, and taking your cock in his hand.

“Those were my best Calvins, jackass,” you huffed, brushing Kiri’s hair back out of his eyes as he leaned up- holding your gaze as he let a long string of spit fall from his Mouth- letting it drip down the side of your cock, before he slicked you up, and began stroking you in earnest. Hot, and wet, calloused palm perfectly rough, and you were putty.

Mewling and fucking into Kiri’s fist with quiet, breathy ‘Ei-Chan’s’ rolling off your tongue. Clinging to enough sense, barely, to bring two fingers up to your mouth to wet, before shoving them back down and into Kiri’s ass, teasing his hole briefly, before sinking your middle finger to the hilt in his hole- both of you moaning out, Kiri at the intrusion, and you at the spasming heat of his tight hole, like a vice on your finger as you fucked the man on it slowly.

You both shifted, Kirishima up on his knees, bringing you into his lap to stroke the two of you together, constantly spitting down on your lengths, hot and filthy, to keep you wet, as the larger man began to pant into your face. Morning breath be damned, you finally, /finally/, kissed him. Reaching between the two of you to cup Kirishima’s heavy ball sac as you did, kneading them gently, and tugging on them whenever Kirishima began to breath a little too heavily.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you so much, so so much, love- love- ah, fuck- love,” Kirishima whined, vulnerable in a way no one else would ever get to see him as you took over for him- needing both hands to stroke both he and yours impressive lengths, Kiri’s hands at your back holding you up in his lap- his arms shook with the force it took, especially as he neared his orgasm.

“Cum for me, Ei,” you whispered against a Kirishima’s lips, eating up his whimpered pleas as they ghosted your lips. “Come on, big guy, cum. Cum all over me, Ei, Mark me up. I wanna feel it, on my cock. Come on.” And that was all it took. With a loud shout, Kirishima’s grip on you tightened, and he hun he’d over your shoulder, quiet all of the sudden, before making a sound like he’d been punched in the gut as he began to cum. Cock thickening up, before pump after pump of thick, hot cum burst from the top of it. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight long ropes of cum shooting out all over your chest, and combined cocks, before slowing to a dribble every time Kirishima’s cock throbbed.

You overworked him though, his softening cock, and your own hard length making the filthiest squelching noises as you continued to overstimulate your husband- his cries into your shoulder sending you over the edge, as you leaned against his shoulder, and came undone yourself. Adding to the sticky, hot mess in your laps, before the both of you went quiet. Just the deep, heavy sighs as you caught your breath together filling your the surrounding space.

“My dick feels like it’s gonna fall off,” Kiri muttered finally, leaning you both back into the sofa- making a mental note to get it deep cleaned, as he snuggled you deep into the cushions- his spit wet hands skimming your sides, before they slid beneath you , and he settled comfortably on top. Careful of his weight, always too conscious of crushing you- unless you asked for it, that was, he thiight idly. Fondly.

“We’ve got the next eight days all to ourselves, so I’d maybe see if he can hold out till at least then. Though I’d accept an early leave- no earlier than Thursday, I suppose, if he can’t keep up,” you drawled, wiping your cum covered hands on your stomach as best you could, before wrapping your arms around Kirishima’s waist, and closing your eyes.

“Eight days,” Kirishima echoed, kissing your closed eyes, closing his own as he did so, and shifting to lay more comfortably, face in your neck as he felt sleep threatening to take him once again.

“Eight days,” you parroted back again, snickering, and yawning. Ignoring the tacky cum that was going to dry all crusty and gross between the two of you, in favor of hooking a leg around Kiri’s, and allowing sleep to take you.

But not before whispering one last “I love you” between the two of you, Kirishima mumbling contentedly back at you before falling back asleep as well.

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #eijiro kirishima x male reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #Kirishima x male reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #eijiro kirishima imagine #kirishima #eijiro kirishima #vicious-vixxxen

139 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Text

Taming of the Bridezilla | Seokjin

→ summary: Picture this: You had been (not-so) cordially invited to the wedding of your least favorite cousin—a woman who had been hellbent on making your childhood a living hell. Now older and wiser, you would think that you would put aside your differences and attend your cousin’s special day without any hard feelings, right? You wouldn’t seek revenge, now would you?

→ genre: fake dating!au, i2l, humor/crack, fluff → warnings: seokjin and oc paradoxically have big yet small brains, fake proposals, not-so fake mutual pining, thinly veiled baby-making jokes, terrible family members, ass slapping (no worries it’s consensual) → words: 6.3K → a/n: first of all, no this is not a horror fic; i just thought the title was funny. unless you consider the stupidity of the characters to be mildly horrifying, then sure you can count this as a horror fic. this insanely ridiculous fic was commissioned by @breadoffoxy!! anyone who loves chaotic jin is an angel in my book. yes, this comm is a bit longer than expected but what can i say... i love me some jin. anyway i hope you guys enjoy!

“You got the ring, right?”

Seokjin pats his left breast pocket and gives you a quick smirk. The bump where the ring should be is fortuitously hidden by his large and garish boutonniere, looking to all the world like he had pinned a whole head of cabbage to his suit. Even then, he still somehow manages to make it work. “Of course I did. This entire plan would be useless if I didn’t have it,” he says.

“What flavor did you get? I quite like the watermelon one,” you muse, smacking your lips in anticipation. “Though it’s hard to remember since I haven’t had a ring pop in years.”

Seokjin laughs loudly, startling a group of aunties gossiping in the corner. They all shoot glares at him, though the effect has lost its novelty as they’ve already been glaring at you from the moment you arrived. You suppose that they have a good reason to, considering that you both arrived at the reception an entire 30 minutes late. You can imagine them cursing you under their breath, saying something like, “You’ve brought dishonor to us all!” or whatever it is that aunties like to say these days.

“I could have gotten you all the flavors available at the convenience store if you wanted, but then we’d be 40 minutes late instead,” Seokjin sighs, pretending to be anguished at the thought.

You snort in the most unladylike manner that you can, grinning wildly when you hear one of the aunties gasp in horrified disbelief. From the way they’re reacting, you might have thought that you just flashed them your Borat-inspired neon green thong.

“I do love a man who can treat me well,” you giggle, earning a soft pinch from him.

“Oh, hush. I know you love it. You nearly burst into tears the other day when I bought you a McFlurry because your broke ass was a dollar short,” Seokjin teases. You squawk indignantly, unable to come up with a retort.

“Whatever! Just because you’re a trust fund baby doesn’t mean you get to bully my impoverished state. Just you fucking wait ‘til I get hit by a wealthy 77 year old’s BMW and then I’ll be made for life,” you huff, your illusion of annoyance quickly shattered by the large, dumb grin on your face. “Hey, would you still love me if I broke all my limbs but had a massive bank account?”

“I’d rather buy you McDonald’s for the rest of your life than see you in pain,” he answers simply, patting you gently on the head. “Though I suppose helping you inject thousands of calories into your bloodstream would also cause you pain later on in life, but hey, at least you’d go down doing what you love.”

“Oh, yes. Keep talking dirty to me. I love it when you talk about the ways you’d kill me by association.” You laugh, casually looping your arms together as you walk past the slowly growing crowd of aunties and entering the reception hall to find your seats. Almost everyone is already in their seats, with a few guests milling about and greeting one another with tight-lipped smiles and hollow laughter. The sight brings goosebumps up your arm, bringing back terrible memories of having to make niceties with these people despite knowing that they despised you and your less affluent family.

Remember, you’re only here as a representative for your parents, you tell yourself. You’d rather bear the brunt of the thinly-veiled insults than to have your parents have to experience this hell. Besides, you have big plans for today, and they would only be brought to an end if your mother ever found out what you wanted to do in the first place.

“As they say… We’re here for a good time, not a long time, which I suppose is our philosophy for tonight as well,” he quips back. He taps you lightly on the hand, wrenching your gaze away from the magnificent chocolate fountain on the dessert table and back to his somewhat less magnificent face. A straight-up lie, but it is the only defense mechanism you have in your arsenal that can keep you from staring at how gorgeous he looks in his suit and tie like a braindead idiot. Denial, after all, hasn’t failed you during the last five years that you’ve been in love with your own best friend.

“What is it?” you ask, curious when he furtively points out one of your cousins near the front of the hall. “That’s Namjoon. Do you know him?”

“Know is a strong word,” Seokjin hums, winking at your cousin when he happens to turn towards the two of you. Namjoon’s eyes light up when he sees him, but his excitement immediately vanishes when he notices who Seokjin has beside him on his right arm. You could see the mental cogs going on inside Namjoon’s head as he stares at the two of you, but you don’t get to see him reach a conclusion before Seokjin is pulling you away, walking in the opposite direction.

“Seokjin? What was that all about?” you ask, though you have to admit you’re kind of afraid to know the answer to your own question. As much as everything about tonight’s scheme had been your idea, you can’t help but think that Seokjin’s intense enthusiasm to help you isn’t merely out of his own desire to help you as a friend, but rather due to his innate calling to cause chaos wherever he goes.

“I have a secret bonus surprise for the bride and groom once we get kicked out from this joint after we do our thing,” he says. “And, dare I say, it’ll be quite a treat for all the guests here.” The smirk on his lips is downright heinous, only exacerbating the frantic racing of your heart. There must be something wrong with you, not with how badly you want to do unspeakable atrocities to him and his evil-looking ass. Or perhaps he was simply put down on Earth to test your slowly fraying sanity.

He snaps you out of your dumbfounded, horny stupor when he continues, “If everything goes according to plan, then we’ll truly end this night with a bang, no pun intended.”

“What was even the pun there?” You raise a brow, slightly disconcerted by the way Seokjin was struggling to keep his laughter (at his own joke) at bay. “You know what? Don’t even answer. I guess I’ll just have to find out later tonight.”

After some pointless meandering while the two of you locate your seats, you are finally able to locate your table, unsurprisingly situated near the farthest corner of the hall where no one would have to see you. You’re honestly more surprised that your newly-wedded cousin had even remembered to give you a seat, though you suppose that it must have been at the behest of your uncle. While your devil of a cousin has always been rude and cruel to you, you have to admit that at least her father knew some manners, though that only begs the question as to what happened to his daughter along the way. Genetics and expensive etiquette classes can only help so much, you suppose.

“Thank you again for doing this with me. You really didn’t need to,” you say when you take a seat, nearly elbowing him in the process. Your chairs are wedged right beside the emergency exit and a grotesque ice sculpture of the bride and groom, forcing the two of you to sit so close that you could feel Seokjin breathe directly into your ear. If you shifted just slightly to the right, you’d basically be sitting on his lap (which is a prospect that intrigues you greatly, but you refrain from voicing it in fear of creeping him out… for now).

“How could I ever resist the offer to ruin your cousin’s wedding? This has been on my bucket list for years,” he winks cheekily at you. “Besides, you’re my dearest friend, Y/N. You could ask me to fight a bear naked, and I’d gladly let it eat my dick in one chomp!”

“I wouldn’t let a bear eat your dick,” you say kindly, patting him gently on the back. “You can’t afford to lose an inch when you only have two to offer.”

Before you could laugh hysterically at Seokjin’s howls of betrayal, your attention is pulled away when the soft violin music stops playing abruptly. From far away, it’s hard to tell what’s going on until you notice a bright light reflecting off of the sea of attendees, the balding head of the reception’s host bobbing up and down as he makes his way to the front of the hall.

“Attention esteemed guests! We will now begin serving dinner shortly. Please remain in your seats as our waiters attend to you.” The host speaks into a crackly microphone just as a few scraggly-looking underpaid teenagers in black dress shirts come out with the first course of the night.

Seokjin cranes his neck, trying to see what the food is. “What the hell is that? Why does it look like green shit in a bowl?” he murmurs, loud enough so that only you can hear. “I didn’t know your cousin was a Dr. Seuss fan. Are we being served green eggs and ham?” Before you can guess, you watch as his nose crinkles in disgust, a vile stench making its way to your area even though none of the waiters were even close to your table. “Oh my goodness, is that stench what we’re supposed to eat?”

“Smells like a barnyard,” you comment, though you aren’t as surprised as he is by the revolting smell. “Well, my cousin always did like making atrocious vegan recipes on her shitty WordPress blog, so I wouldn’t put it past her if she made up the menu for her own wedding.”

“She’s a vegan and a bully? What are the odds,” he says drily, cringing when he watches one of the guests begin to dry heave the moment a spoonful of the green stuff enters their mouth. “Christ. I didn’t know I was signing up for a life or death mission.”

“At this rate, I don’t think we’re getting served until the end of the night anyway,” you say, observing as the understaffed employees tried their best to get to every table while insufferable aunts did their worst to hinder their progress by nagging and complaining. Why were they so adamant about eating the food anyway? Were they itching to get diarrhea on a Saturday night? You do admit that it would probably be better, so then at least you’d have an excuse to leave earlier. “Though I suppose... Do you think eating the mystery goo while it’s cold would be better or worse?”

“It’s okay, I’ll treat you to McDonald’s when we finish up here,” he says, smiling sweetly at you. Never in your life has the mention of greasy fries and chicken nuggies made your heart race faster than it did at that moment, but then again, it could also be your high-blood pressure kicking up. Either way, you can’t ignore the way your face heats up at his offer, now more excited than ever for the reception to be over.

You and Seokjin chat as you wait for everyone around you to finish eating, not even bothered when the waiters forget to bring your food. You’re in the middle of debating the pros and cons of cock and ball torture when large dark shadows loom over both your heads, much like a solar eclipse. A cold shiver runs up your spine when you look up to find the reptilian faces of your aunts, the fumes of their designer perfume creating a cloud so noxious that you could feel your lungs shrivel into prunes.

“Hello, Y/N. It’s nice to see you after such a long time,” your Aunt Sohee greets, her tone indicating that there was nothing pleasant about seeing you at all. Your aunt, who had gotten so much botox done that she was reminiscent of a plastic balloon ready to pop, has her entourage of fellow aunties behind her, all of whom looked ridiculous in their fake designer dresses. You swear you can see that one of them had forgotten to snip off the Made in China tag before wearing it to the wedding.

“Aunt Sohee, you’re looking… young,” you say after a moment, deciding to settle on lying for now. Even though your main plan for this evening is to create chaos at your cousin’s wedding, your one condition is that you wouldn’t cause a scene with your aunts. While you are hardly in the running for favorite niece, there is still a 1% chance that you could get some inheritance from them once they hit the grave, so you’ll have to grit your teeth and bear the incoming barrage of personal questions coming your way lest you lose out in the long run.

“Why, thank you. I can’t say the same for you,” she huffs, shamelessly grabbing my cheeks and squishing them like stress balls. She peers sourly at your disfigured face, trying to squint judgmentally at you but failing due to her horrendous plastic surgery. “How old are you? Why do you have so many wrinkles?”

You feel your eyebrow twitch involuntarily, unable to respond even if you wanted due to the gorilla-hold she has on your face. You side-eye Seokjin, who is looking back at you with a blank and calm expression. You had already told him beforehand that you wouldn’t be arguing with your aunts, but that doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be an asshole.

Being an asshole, after all, is Seokjin’s favorite pastime.

“Hello, Aunties. My name is Kim Seokjin, and I’m Y/N’s long-term boyfriend. She’s told me many good things about you,” he says with a polite smile, his hamster cheeks puffing up in that adorably boyish way. The surrounding aunties all begin to coo at his handsome face (unfair!), but they’re quickly silenced by a sharp glare from your Aunt Sohee. She appraises him, giving him a once over with a pursed lip.

“Long-term boyfriend, huh? Are you sure you aren’t paying her or something? Y/N hasn’t had a boyfriend in years. Her cousins have told me that she’s been too busy with other… extracurricular activities to bother sticking around,” your aunt says snidely, her sneer deepening. She lets go of your face, crossing her arms when she spies the expensive watch on his wrist. “Ah, I see that you’re well-off. I just can’t possibly see why else you’d be staying with her if not for other reasons.”

You can feel your blood pressure rising, the veins on your forehead undoubtedly bulging as you try to suppress your rage. Screw your cousin for spreading a rumor that you’re a whore! It’s as if you were the one sucking guys off in the locker rooms when the two of you were in the second year of high school and not her. You haven’t even had your first proper kiss, for heaven’s sake!

Instead of getting angry, Seokjin’s expression hardly changes at all. His serene smile is still plastered on his face, but only you can tell that he’s even remotely bothered by their rude remarks. You can feel the air around him turn frosty, but your oblivious aunties are still too busy tittering amongst themselves, exchanging insults at your expense.

“Oh, are we that obvious?” Seokjin tilts his head, feigning innocence. Your head jerks towards him, your eyes bugging out of their sockets. What the fuck? “You are so right, Auntie Sohee. I’m sure Y/N must have informed you about our predicament. You see, we’ve—”

“Your predicament?” Aunt Sohee scoffs, interrupting Seokjin mid-speech. “I can’t believe the nerve of this girl, bringing her little boy-toy to the holy matrimony of her cousin—”

“—been trying to produce an heir to the Kim Line for months now,” Seokjin sighs heavily, looking off into the distance with glazed, dreamy eyes. You nearly cough out a lung at his sudden proclamation, about to interject and ask him what on earth he was talking about. Your words die on your tongue, however, when he grips your hand tightly underneath the table. He taps three times on the back of your hand: an old sign that you both made back in high school whenever he was busy bullshitting his way out of trouble.

Luckily, none of your aunts notice your blunder, all of them too occupied trying to wrap their heads around what Seokjin had said. Multiple mouths drop open in surprise and disbelief, including your Aunt Sohee. Her penciled eyebrows arch comically high, her smoothened forehead wrinkling infinitesimally (a feat in itself, for you were sure she had long since lost any ability to move the skin on her face.)

“I beg your pardon?” she whispers, staring daggers at Seokjin.

Then beg, you think to yourself. Judging by the way the corners of Seokjin’s lips lift slightly, you have a strong feeling that he was thinking the same thing to himself. Instead, he says, “Yes, Aunt Sohee. You see, I come from a long line of businessmen. Ever heard of Kim Enterprises.”

Her face turns pale. “You mean… the Kim Enterprises? The one that owns—”

“South Korea’s largest chain of department stores? I’m flattered that you’re familiar,” he winks. He leans forward, gesturing for your aunts to come closer, like he’s imparting state secrets to them. “My older brother, who has been married for quite some time, has chosen to remain childless at the behest of his wife. For that reason, my father put me up to the task of producing an heir for the company.”

“An heir?” your aunt repeats, dumbfounded.

Seokjin nods, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s quite unfortunate, but it’s a responsibility I’m willing to take. My family is notorious for planning our lives, even for the next 50 years, so I am forever grateful to have Y/N who is willing to bring me multiple potential heirs to my family.”

“Multiple heirs?” Your aunts shriek in unison, causing a few nearby guests to look over at your table in curiosity. You wave at them awkwardly in apology, hoping to get them to ignore the absolute clusterfuck happening right in front of you.

You feel Seokjin kick you gently in the shin, urging you to say something as well. You clear your throat, channeling all the pent-up Seokjin energy that you had indirectly absorbed over the years of being his friend. “That’s right… My Jinnie has always been so lonely, living in his gigantic mansion with his piles of money. He may have never felt the loving touch of his father, but I’m certain that we’ll be great parents to our children. Why, we’re almost like a pair of rabbits when it comes to—”

Aunt Sohee clears her throat abruptly, a deep flush coloring her cheeks as she glares daggers at you. She looks absolutely peeved, and it takes all your mental fortitude to restrain yourself from jumping up in triumph. Take that, wench!

“I have to admit that this is somewhat… unexpected,” your aunt says carefully, pointing a tight smile at Seokjin. He beams back, positively delighted.

“Y/N is quite the catch. I’m grateful to have her in my life,” he says, his tone growing soft by the end. He looks at you then, and you find a mysterious emotion floating in his eyes that you can’t quite name. When you blink and try to get a closer look, his careful façade is back in place.

Eventually, your aunts lose interest in you once they realize they can no longer bully you, not when you had an incredibly rich boyfriend to back you up. “Must be nice being a rich boy, huh?” you snicker, teasing the blushing boy beside you. Thanks to his hair growing longer than usual, the tips of his ears are miraculously hidden away. When you brush his hair back, they are as red as a baboon’s ass.

“Oh, shut up. You know I hate flaunting my dad’s money,” he whines, pouting cutely. He fingers the watch on his wrist, staring at it uncomfortably. “This isn’t even my watch. I had to borrow one from my brother.”

“Well, you did it for me, so I suppose it’s not all bad,” you laugh, pinching his cheek lightly. “Plus, it was funny watching my aunts shut up for once. They’re just mad that you’re richer than the groom.”

“Really? What does he do?”

“He’s an entrepreneur.” You snort, emphasizing the word with air quotations. “Honestly, he just calls himself that while he waits for his self-made business to pop off or whatever. No such luck so far, if what I heard was right.”

“Lucky for you, you’re stuck with my devastatingly handsome face and stinkin’ rich bank account,” he jokes, contorting his face into a funny expression until you’re left snorting at his antics. Little does he know, you still would’ve l***d him even if he wasn’t any of those things, but that’d be too cringey to say. What are you, some sort of romantic lead protagonist?

It takes a little bit over an hour for dessert to start getting served, by which point the bride and groom decide to make their rounds to greet the guests. “Don’t you think this is the perfect time to put our plan into motion? The dance floor is open and we should be able to make it to the center without anyone noticing,” he whispers, his breath tickling your neck.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you say, but just as you’re about to get up from your seat, a flurry of white blocks your path in an instant. You startle slightly, falling back to your chair and hitting Seokjin in the chest with a soft grunt. “Shit, sorry about that Seokjin—”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my dear cousin,” a voice cuts you off, the disdain in their voice dripping like acid down your ear canals. Your blood freezes instinctively, years of past trauma crashing down on you as your childhood bully stands just inches away from you, her blood-red lips stretched into a broad smirk.

“Kairi,” you greet.

“Y/N,” she responds.

“Seokjin!” Seokjin adds helpfully.

Your cousin turns to him slowly. “Quite right,” she hisses, eyebrows pinched together in thinly-veiled annoyance. “I’ve heard through some whispers that my baby cousin finally managed to snag a rich kid for a boyfriend and I just couldn’t help but let my curiosity drag me over here.” She looks you up and down, snorting at what she sees. “You would think that having a chaebol as a boyfriend would mean you could at least afford a proper dress.”

You glance down at your dress: a hand-me-down from your mother because you couldn’t be bothered to buy a new one, not when you’d rather choke on Satan’s hot fiery balls for all eternity than spend any amount of money just to attend your cousin’s wedding. Despite this, you can’t help your cheeks from heating in embarrassment, an automatic response after years of bullying and torment from that spoiled bitch.

When you don’t reply, Kairi’s smirk widens. “Oh? Cat got your tongue? Sugar daddy couldn’t even be bothered to buy you a dress? While you’re at it, maybe you should ask for a new car too. I’m surprised you even made it here alive in that old metal deathtrap of yours. You’re lucky you were just late to the reception instead of dead on the street.”

You can sense Seokjin staring at you from your right. Your fists are clenched tightly on your skirt, your nails nearly tearing the fabric in your searing rage. Slowly, carefully, Seokjin slips his hands underneath yours—he pries your death grip open until he can lace his fingers in between yours. At once, your anger melts at his tender gesture, your focus pulled away from your cousin and back to him. He thumbs the back of your hand, as if assuring you that he’d handle this himself.

He smiles at Kairi, not a single ounce of kindness in his eyes. “Yes, indeed. It is my mistake entirely for not ordering a dress much sooner. Y/N is so incredibly humble; she’d rather wear a vintage outfit than wear one of those paper-thin dresses from YesStyle that you and your bridesmaids seem to favor,” he sighs, pretending to be pained.

“Paper-thin? YESSTYLE?” Kairi screeches, her voice breaking the sound barrier. You watch in fascination as her skin turns an unflattering ruddy shade.

Unperturbed by her murderous aura, Seokjin prattles on. “Quite right,” he mocks her with her own words, smirking ever so slightly. “Though, I must apologize for being late to the reception. That was my fault as well. My father had a general meeting this morning for all the employees at the company, as he had wanted to announce that I would be the Vice President starting next Monday. We tried to leave sooner, but everyone had been too busy congratulating us,” he apologizes, though not apologetic in the slightest.

Your cousin could cosplay as a walking crack pipe with how much steam was puffing out of her ears. She’s livid, so much so that her fury was preventing her from formulating any sort of comeback. “You—how dare you—I swear on my—” she stutters incomprehensibly, her vulture-like nails tearing her dainty paper-thin skirt into shreds.

Just as she looks about ready to blow, her father comes around to your table. He places a hand delicately on his daughter’s shoulder, immediately understanding the situation when he sees you. “Kairi, I think it’s time for you to greet the rest of the guests. Uncle Iverson said he has a gift for you that simply cannot wait,” he says, doing his best to appease you. He gives you a genuinely regretful look; you shake your head, waving off his concern.

“It was nice seeing you, Kairi. I hope you and your husband will have a wonderful year together,” you say. You gasp exaggeratedly, holding a hand to your heart. “Oh, sorry. I meant to say I hope you have wonderful years together. Pardon my mistake.”

Before the scant amount of brain cells in your cousin’s brain could process your words, her father pulls her away, dragging her to the next table over. Once they’re out of earshot, you heave a sigh of relief. Beside you, Seokjin lets out a laugh that he had been undoubtedly holding in the past few minutes, sounding like a fish gasping for air with how much he is shaking with mirth.

“Fuck, that was hilarious. Did you see how angry she got? Beautiful,” he says, wiping away a stray tear. “Love that for us!”

“Damn. I knew you were good at bullshitting, but even your acting skills almost convinced me,” you whistle lowly, impressed. “You sure you’re not a con-artist in disguise?”

“All good businessmen are con-artists, my young padawan,” he snickers, winking at you. He shrugs. “You get used to dealing with assholes like her when you attend enough rich people parties. Besides, all good lies are rooted in the truth, after all. That’s what my father taught me when I was seven.”

“You must have been a terrible child, then.” You laugh, before realizing what he had just said. “Wait. Rooted in the truth? What does that mean?”

“Oh. Well,” he clears his throat, giggling nervously. He rubs his neck, embarrassed. “I am the vice president of dad’s company now. I just lied about the meeting being this morning. He announced it a day ago or something. Not that it’s a big deal or anything…”

You gawk at him, speechless. Not for the first time in your life, you are once again stunned by the absurdity of the man before you. How did men like him exist outside of cheesy k-dramas? He’s handsome, rich, funny, AND well-mannered? It’s almost like some love-crazed author had penned him into existence for their entertainment.

Seokjin breaks you from your reverie, tapping you thrice on your shoulder. “Shall we go? The dance floor is still empty. It’s now or never.”

You nod excitedly, standing up to head towards the center of the hall. This time, there is no one stopping you as the two of you make your way towards your destination. The lights near the dancefloor are still dimly lit, as most of the lighting is currently focused on the guests as the bride and groom make their rounds to greet everyone. Even if Seokjin got onto his knees right now, only a few people nearby would notice, so you’d have to do something to catch people’s attention.

“This is going to be moderately to highly embarrassing for a few moments, but I think that’s the atmosphere we’re going for, isn’t it?” Seokjin whispers, his mouth embarrassingly close to yours as he holds you gently by the waist. There isn’t a need for him to stand so close to you, but you have to admit his presence is mostly calming—minus the fact that he’s been your crush for five years and he’s going to be fulfilling one of your deepest fantasies in front of your entire extended family. No biggie.

“I suppose so. What are you gonna do to get their attention?” you ask, palms beginning to sweat. Despite this, Seokjin still takes your hands into his own, a small smile on his lips.

“Just watch,” he whispers, before slowly getting down on one knee.

Ba-dump. Here we fucking go.

“My dearest Y/N… The apple of my eye, the straw to my berry, the con to my dom,” Seokjin says, projecting his voice so that it can be heard even above the music. One of the violin players is even startled long enough to stop playing, further causing more heads to turn in their direction. You hear a gasp coming from your left, but you force yourself not to look. Instead, you stare right back into Seokjin’s sweet brown eyes, your heart beating a mile a minute.

This isn’t real… This is just a prank, bro. Get over yourself, you hiss internally, but your heart refuses to listen.

“You’ve been in my life for almost half a decade, and not a day goes by wherein I don’t wonder what it would be like to live the rest of my days with you. In many ways, I wouldn’t be the person I am if it hadn’t been for your presence in my life,” he says. If you look deeper into his eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking that they looked wetter than they had just a moment ago.

“Y/N, you are the person I’ve loved for years now. I used to think you didn’t like me as much as I liked you, so I was always scared to pop the question. I had many opportunities to ask, but I suppose tonight just felt like the right moment. I was afraid that if I didn’t do it now, I might never get the chance to ask again, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you slip away out of cowardice.”

For some reason, his words seem almost too real, like he was speaking the truth. You have never doubted his acting skills, but would you be willing to wonder if there was even a small possibility that there was some truth to his tale? You swallow thickly, the need to ask just dangling on the tip of your tongue.

He rifles through his jacket pocket, procuring a small velvet box. He thumbs it almost reverently, his hands shaking slightly, but you can blame that on the nerves from hundreds of people watching you. He takes a deep breath, opening the box with a soft click. “My dearest Y/N… Would you give me the honor of spending the rest of my days with you?”

You feel your breath get knocked out of you in an instant, the genuine adoration in his eyes too much for you to handle. You stammer slightly, too busy staring at him to properly register the loud claps, screams, and hollers all around you. “I… Seokjin… This is…”

“MAKE THEM STOP! SOMEONE KICK THEM OUT RIGHT NOW!” You dimly hear your cousin screaming obscenities somewhere, but you are still too caught up in the moment to care. The world only consists of you and Seokjin—nothing else matters right now.

When you look down at the box in his hands, fully expecting to see a comically large ring pop nestled in its cushions, but instead you find—

You gasp, nearly doubling over in surprise. “Oh my god, Seokjin. Is that a real fucking diamond ring?!”

He shrugs, smiling wryly. “Only the best rocks for the girl who rocks my socks off every night,” he jokes, but his nervousness is palpable. He’s sweating, a drop trailing down the side of his face despite the strong air conditioning.

Oh shit. It hits you right then that his proposal is real. The damned idiot is fucking proposing to you in front of your most hated family members, and he’s proposing to you for real.

“Kim Seokjin, please fucking explain yourself—”

But before he can have the chance to open his mouth, you feel rough hands grab you by the shoulders, pulling you away from him. “I’m sorry I have to do this, ma’am. Bride’s orders,” one of the waiters says, awkwardly escorting you to the exit. When you turn back, you see another waiter pulling Seokjin away as well, the box with the ring still clutched tightly in his hand.

The two waiters deposit you outside the hall, bowing stiffly before heading back into the room. You’re still breathing heavily, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Seokjin isn’t any better, bent over with his hands on his knees. From your vantage point, you can see how red his entire neck is, his blush reaching even past the collar of his shirt.

“Seokjin…” you trail off, unable to say another word. You’re completely flabbergasted, elated, annoyed, and mostly just mind-fucked because when on earth did Kim Seokjin ever have a crush on you?!

“I’m sorry. That must have been quite a shock,” he coughs out a laugh. He rubs his face, embarrassment rolling off of him in waves. “I just… It was sort of a last-minute decision I made. I’ve been into you for years now, and I know I’m kinda putting you on the spot by proposing like that, but I knew if I didn’t do anything soon, you might just slip away before I can say anything.”

“Wait. So are you really… proposing to me?” You squeak out the last bit, your face mirroring his reddened state.

“No!” He shouts suddenly, before covering his mouth with his palm. “S-sorry, what I mean to say is, it wasn’t really a marriage proposal. It was more like… just a general proposal? I do want to live with you forever, but I know that thought must be daunting and—oh god, I don’t even know if you like me like that, so this must be incredibly weird and out of line. Please excuse me while I shove a cactus up my ass—”

“Seokjin,” you interrupt, silencing his rambling. He clamps his mouth shut. “Are you… asking me out?”

He nods his head. “Yeah…”

“And what you said is true? You actually like me?”

“No, you don’t understand. I love you,” he says, before getting shy again. He looks down at the ring box. “Fuck. This isn’t a real engagement ring, by the way. It’s more like a promise ring, so you don’t have to feel bad for rejecting me.”

“Oh my god, I’m in love with an idiot,” you groan, pulling him into a hug. You nestle into his chest, giggling hysterically into his shirt. “I fucking hate you.”

“Wait, I’m getting mixed signals over here,” Seokjin says, gasping when he feels how tightly you embrace him. He doesn’t complain, however. He returns the gesture in kind, nuzzling deep into your neck. “So, does that mean the feeling is mutual?”

“Yes, you idiot. Now give me my ring.”

“My pleasure, princess.” He laughs, drawing away slightly so that he can slip the ring on your finger. The diamond shines brightly under the fluorescent lights, but nothing brings you more joy than having the boy you love in your arms.

As the two of you are sharing a sweet moment, it takes a second for you to realize that the commotion from inside the venue still hasn’t stopped. When you crane your heads, you spot one of the doors had been left ajar, allowing you to slip your heads through the crack just in time to see Seokjin’s beautiful bare ass being projected onto a large screen.

The musical notes of Rick Astley’s most popular song play loudly on the speakers, drowning out the sounds of the bride screaming bloody murder as the IT people tried their best to sort out the mess. The Seokjin on the screen slaps his ass in time with the tune, his glorious moon-shaped globes shaking mesmerizingly for all to see.

When you look to Seokjin for an explanation, he merely shrugs his shoulders. “They really should do background checks on the people they hire for these things. Taking that one video editing course in university really does pay off, huh?”

“Sure does,” you grin, linking your arms together. “Now let’s get some fucking McDonalds.”

And so, you lived happily ever after—the end.

683 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 3 years

Photo

“Uptown girl -- You know I can't afford to buy her pearls, But maybe someday when my ship comes in, She'll understand what kind of guy I've been, And then I'll win!”

~“Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel

x~x~x~x

Bill Weasley had always had trouble relating to kids his age. As the oldest of seven kids, he’d pretty quickly slipped into the role of support for his mother Molly, parenting and looking after his younger siblings while his father Arthur was at work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Even when he was little, there wasn’t really anyone his age in his tiny hometown of Ottery St. Catchpole. All of the other magical families with kids in the area were much younger than Bill, and it was always a tricky proposition trying to play with the Muggle children who lived closest to the Burrow, with the Statute of Secrecy looming large. So when Bill got to Hogwarts, he found himself almost inevitably falling back on how he acted around his younger siblings, even with kids his own age...which, in turn, made Bill lose his footing, when those kids his age didn’t respond well to being coddled or “looked after.” And given Bill’s rather modest, people-pleasing personality, he wasn’t the type to force anyone to listen to him or do what he said...and so, almost inevitably, he found himself at a loss about how to interact with someone without looking after them in some way, on completely equal footing. And thus Bill Weasley, sweet and amiable as he was, actually found himself largely alone in those first two years he spent at Hogwarts -- and that solitude was something he found out pretty quickly he really didn’t like.

Bill was relieved when his younger brother Charlie started his first year at Hogwarts. Although Bill had trouble admitting to his family just how unhappy he’d been those last two years, the eldest Weasley was secretly relieved that he’d now have some family at school too. He had always been closest to Charlie out of all of his siblings, given their closeness in age, so it was comforting to know he’d at least have one friend to spend time with, when he wasn’t in class. Charlie’s year, however, also included a ginger-haired Slytherin girl called Cromwell -- the same surname as the infamous “delinquent” Jacob Cromwell, who’d been expelled from Hogwarts and disappeared mysteriously a few years ago.

Bill first heard about Jacob Cromwell’s sister Carewyn through Charlie, who’d heard that she’d stood up to another Slytherin in their year, Merula Snyde, for bullying Charlie’s timid dormmate Ben Copper and even defeated her in a duel with a Disarming Charm, a spell not taught until at least Bill’s year. Despite himself, Bill actually felt a bit relieved -- he hadn’t known Jacob Cromwell at all, but he figured it had to have been really difficult, for someone to lose their only sibling. Even if he didn’t know Carewyn Cromwell at all, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her...but at least if she was still confident enough to stand up for herself and others, then it probably meant she was doing okay, even with what had happened to her and her family. And his analysis seemed to be confirmed when Carewyn sought Bill out to get his help the following year with breaking the curse on the Ice Vault. From the moment they first met, Bill made up his mind -- Carewyn Cromwell needed someone to look after her, so he would, until she found her brother again. And so Bill and Carewyn became friends.

In Bill’s fifth year, he was named Gryffindor Prefect. It was a rather obvious choice for Minerva McGonagall, considering Bill’s predisposition to “look after” and mentor younger students, but it still filled Arthur and Molly Weasley with immense pride. It was also the first year that Bill and Charlie invited Carewyn home for the holidays, upon hearing that her mother Lane had been commissioned by the Ministry of Magic for an international assignment and wouldn’t be able to be home in time for Christmas. When he heard Merula Snyde also wouldn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with, Bill made the remarkably kind move to invite her to the Burrow as well, even with Charlie and Carewyn’s misgivings -- but that holiday ended up being one of the best all four of them had ever had. Merula and Carewyn were even able to mend fences enough to sing Christmas carols together, the first’s clear Soprano voice hovering ethereally over the second’s warm, emotional Alto harmonies. That Christmas was also the year Carewyn gave Bill his very first record -- an album called An Innocent Man, by an Muggle artist named Billy Joel. Arthur Weasley was almost more thrilled by the gift than his son was, and he immediately brought out the Muggle record player he’d...”been allowed to take home” from work so Carewyn could show the Weasleys how to play the record on it. And for the rest of the winter break, it wasn’t uncommon for one of the Weasleys to put the record on in the background while doing dishes or playing a game of Wizard’s Chess in front of the fire. The song from the record Bill found himself humming the most, even after returning to Hogwarts, was the first song on side two of the record. He’d liked the tune immediately just because it was fun...but it also reminded him of a girl in his year he’d been trying to muster up the courage to talk to -- a very pretty and daring Gryffindor named Emily Tyler.

“And when she's walking, she's looking so fine, And when she's talking, she'll say that she's mine... She'll say I'm not so tough, Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl!”

Emily Tyler was the most popular girl in Bill’s year, as well as one of the most popular in Gryffindor house overall. She’d made a name for herself at the Dueling Club, where she remained Gryffindor’s main champion -- it was likely only thanks to Hufflepuff’s own dueling prodigy, Diego Caplan, that Emily had any competition at all. She also was top of her class in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Bill’s favorite and best subject, even managing to Stun an entire flock of bats with one spell. And coupled with that talent was a lot of style, confidence, and ability to captivate and charm others. She never seemed uncomfortable in a crowd and never seemed to be at a loss for words around her peers -- something Bill himself still struggled with. She’d even expressed some interest in Cursebreaking post-Hogwarts, gushing about the acclaim and glamour of the profession. In short, in Bill’s eyes, Emily just seemed amazing -- a bit out of his league, sure...but maybe if he was brave and put himself out there, she might give him a chance!

So one day, right around spring break, Bill passed Emily a note in Defense Against the Dark Arts, asking her to meet him in the castle courtyard. The eldest Weasley was kind of an emotional wreck on the inside, absolutely beside himself with nerves, but he put on his bravest face anyway. He’d even brought a pink rose, which he tried to keep out of sight in his back pocket until Emily arrived. It was the flower that caught Carewyn’s eye, when she was passing through the castle courtyard.

The third-year Slytherin had been planning on meeting up with Ben and Rowan in the library so they could study up for an upcoming Charms test, but she put that on hold, seeing her friend Bill sitting alone in the courtyard, as if waiting for someone. Normally she would've gone over to say hello, but the pink rose in Bill’s pocket made her give pause -- a fortunate thing too, for not long later, Bill shot to his feet as Emily Tyler entered the courtyard. She was dressed head-to-toe in bright pink, with her dark hair tied up in a high ponytail and her makeup impeccably neat. She wasn’t alone -- several other boys and girls were with her, all talking to her animatedly. They reluctantly waited for her at the edge of the courtyard, their eyes locked on her as she approached Bill. The scrutiny from Emily’s cohorts clearly intimidated Bill, but he didn’t let it rattle him. He faced his crush with the best smile he could.

“Hi, Emily,” he greeted. “Thanks for coming -- I know you’re pretty busy with the Dueling Club...”

“I am,” assented Emily. Her voice was matter-of-fact.

Bill gave a weak, uncomfortable laugh. “Well, uh...I won’t take up too much of your time, then. I just wanted to...er...”

He took the pink rose out of his back pocket and offered it to her. Emily blinked down at it in surprise.

“I wanted to...give this to you,” said Bill with a modest smile. “Pink is your favorite color, I’ve heard. Not that I’ve been eavesdropping on you or anything,” he said very quickly, “I just heard you tell one of your friends that once, last month, and...”

Carewyn felt very uncomfortable, listening to this. Deciding at once that the whole thing really wasn’t her business and that Bill deserved his privacy, she turned to go. She probably would’ve walked away, were it not for how disdainful Emily's voice sounded, when she spoke.

“Is this...some sort of confession?”

Carewyn immediately stopped and turned back around. Emily was looking from her friends on the sidelines to Bill, her face twisted in a very critical, flabbergasted sort of look.

Bill, to his credit, somehow managed to keep a weak smile on, even as her brought up a hand to rub behind his neck uncomfortably.

“Well, uh...yes! I guess so. I...was sort of hoping we might be able to hang out sometime...maybe get some butterbeers in Hogsmeade or something -- ”

Emily’s eyes had widened little by little with every word out of Bill’s mouth until, finally, she brought them to an abrupt halt when she started to laugh.

“You -- you’re serious?” she said incredulously. She glanced over to her friends on the sidelines and then around the rest of the courtyard, as if expecting someone to jump out from behind a nearby pillar. “This is a joke, right? Tell me this is a joke.”

Her laugh and slightly louder voice had caught the attention of some other students close by. Her friends over by the entrance of the courtyard were exchanging disbelieving looks and whispers among themselves.

Bill’s smile faded.

“A joke?” he repeated blankly. “No -- it’s not a -- ”

Emily fixed Bill with a rather pitying, condescending look as she slipped the pink rose out of his hand.

“Look, Bill,” she said very coolly, “you’re cute and all -- but you really think you’re my type? You’re a Weasley. Prefect or no, you’re still a blood traitor in messy, second-hand clothes with younger students always tagging along after you like ducklings and a father who chases after Muggle airplanes and scooters rather than work a job that can pay the bills.”

She carelessly dropped the pink rose in the fountain and turned her back on him.

“Maybe actually make something of yourself, and then we can talk.”

Carewyn had been furious at the things Emily Tyler had said -- but it was the absolutely devastated, heartbroken look on Bill’s darkly flushing face that made her snap. In an instant, the third-year Slytherin had barreled right up to the pink-dressed Gryffindor as she rejoined her snickering friends at the side of the courtyard.

“How dare you!”

Emily’s friends all stopped laughing to look down at Carewyn.

“Excuse me?” said Emily, looking down at the much smaller girl with a very condescending eye.

“Bill bared his heart to you just now, and you don’t even care!” Carewyn said fiercely. “Talking about his family being poor and liking Muggle things as if it’s something to be ashamed of...clearly Bill couldn’t have liked you for your personality, because it’s disgusting!”

Emily’s nose wrinkled as she glanced around at her friends. “I don’t think anyone’s surprised you’d throw in your lot with a Weasley, Cursebreaker kid. Your family’s got even less reputation to be proud of -- not to mention your clothes are just as out-of-date as theirs are.”

The boys in the group all gave a low “ooh,” sniggering among themselves.

“Well, fortunately, unlike you, I could care less about my reputation,” Carewyn spat. “And I’m frankly glad of it! Bill is a kind, hardworking person who always puts others first and puts his whole heart into everything he does! If his family’s reputation makes it so you can’t appreciate any of that, then I’d say you’re the one who needs to ‘make something of yourself’ -- ”

“Carey.”

Carewyn felt a hand coming down on her shoulder, almost holding her back. She looked up, to see Bill standing over her. His gaze was locked on Carewyn rather than Emily and his face was very scarlet, but his voice was low and forcibly level.

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled.

Carewyn looked at him with concern. “Bill...”

“It’s okay,” said Bill. He forced a thoroughly unconvincing smile. “Let’s just go.”

Carewyn stared at Bill for a long moment, feeling very reluctant to let the issue go. Her eyes then fell away, drifting away -- it seemed they’d acquired an audience, in the rest of the students scattered around the courtyard.

Bill would probably be even more embarrassed, if I escalated things further, she thought guiltily.

Exhaling quietly, Carewyn shot one more very dirty look in Emily’s direction and walked off with Bill. As they walked off, some of Emily’s friends shouted taunts after them.

“‘Mother Duck’ Weasley strikes again!”

“Follow along after Mama, little duckling!”

Carewyn forced herself to keep walking and not turn around. She shot a furtive glance at Bill, and saw that he was doing the exact same thing, even with the ruby red flush in his cheeks and the slight shine to his eyes.

Carewyn followed Bill out of the courtyard, down the hall, through the large double doors, and out onto the castle grounds. The eldest Weasley seemed to be walking with no destination in mind, his gaze endless and his steps aimless. Carewyn could practically feel the misery, shame, hurt, and embarrassment coming off of her friend, and it made her heart hurt. Her gaze fell to her feet as they walked side-by-side together.

“...I guess...it was her, wasn’t it?”

Bill straightened up. He’d clearly forgotten for a moment that Carewyn was there.

“Huh?” he said, before uncomfortably adding, “...W-who?”

“Who you were thinking about, whenever ‘Uptown Girl’ came on.”

Bill flushed a dark red. “What? No, I...what makes you...think there was anyone I was...?”

“Oh, come on, Bill,” said Carewyn with a pitying look. “Your eyes were always so bright, whenever side two started up. I thought...well, there had to be something special you were thinking about, when you heard that one. Even if it wasn’t a specific person...it just felt like that song was something that spoke to you, I guess...”

She offered him a weak, sad smile.

“...It kind of reminded me of when I sing certain songs. Like even if the words are someone else’s, you can sing them like they’re all yours.”

Bill considered Carewyn for a minute. Then, his flush darkening further, he bowed his head.

“...Yeah. I suppose that’s true.”

He gave a low sigh.

“...What did I do wrong, Carewyn?” he asked. “Did I come on too strong? Should I have sent her a note, or asked to meet her somewhere more private?”

Carewyn whirled on Bill with an incredulous look. “What? Bill, you didn’t do anything wrong!"

“Sure feels like it,” mumbled Bill.

Carewyn stopped right in front of Bill, putting her hands on her hips and fixing him with a very reproachful look.

“You listen to me, William Weasley,” she said fiercely. “I may not know anything about that snobbish twit -- ”

“Emily Tyler.”

“ -- I may not know much of anything about her, but I know you, and I know you deserve so much better than how she treated you. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way about you as you do about her, there’s no excuse for how cruel she was to you...all clearly just to save face around those awful friends of hers...”

Bill blinked in surprise. “You reckon?”

“Yeah,” said Carewyn. “She kept glancing at her friends, the whole time. She rejected you that soundly because she thought they wouldn’t approve of you.”

Seeing the look on Bill’s face, she added, “But that shouldn’t matter, Bill! If Emily thinks impressing her friends is more important than being a decent human being, that’s her problem. And if her so-called ‘friends’ are the sort of people who look down their noses at good people like your family...well, clearly Emily Tyler’s a rotten judge of character.”

Bill looked a bit comforted by Carewyn’s words. He tried to smile again, but it still looked halfhearted at best.

“Thanks, Carey,” he said lowly. “It’s just...well, she’s just so amazing. Talented and pretty and perfectly brilliant -- you should see her in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I reckon she’s on the NEWT level already. She even said she might like being a Cursebreaker, when she graduates -- travel everywhere, and become world-famous...”

Carewyn brought a hand onto Bill’s shoulder and gave it a supportive squeeze. It felt a little odd: he hadn’t really talked to anyone about his feelings for Emily, and just talking his feelings out, rather than listening to someone else’s...it was something he could only really ever remember doing with his parents, and only occasionally. It was weird, but it felt...nice.

“I just...didn’t think she’d react like that,” Bill admitted. “Not that I expected I’d sweep her off her feet or anything, but...I’d sort of hoped that she’d give me a chance, and that when we went out, we’d get on, and maybe even hit it off...”

He sighed heavily.

“Guess I really don’t know much about love at all, do I?”

Carewyn frowned deeply. “That’s not true at all! You know plenty about love. You love your brothers and Ginny, and your parents...and you love your friends too!”

“That’s really not the same thing,” said Bill.

“It should be,” huffed Carewyn. “Love is love. If you love someone, you care about their happiness more than your own. Sure, maybe when you marry someone, there’s a lot more kissing and you want to have kids together and stuff like that...but well, the important part is that caring, right? Without that, what does the rest of that stuff matter?”

Bill’s face softened slightly.

“...I guess you’re right. And I guess...when I am looking for that person...I should find somebody who’ll care about my happiness just as much as I do theirs.”

Carewyn nodded with a smile. “Definitely.”

She took Bill’s hand.

“And maybe someday when your ship comes in,” she sang brightly, “she’ll understand what kind of guy you’ve been...”

Bill’s face flushed again, but this time it wasn’t out of embarrassment -- this time, it was accompanied by a bright, touched look in his brown eyes.

“And then I’ll win,” he finished, in a much less trained, gravelly singing voice than Carewyn’s.

Carewyn beamed. She walked on ahead, pulling lightly at Bill’s hand so as to coax him to walk next to her.

“And when she knows what she wants from her tiiiiime~...”

Bill gave a laugh, but followed Carewyn’s lead, recalling the words by heart.

“And when she wakes up and makes up her miiiiind~...”

Soon Carewyn and Bill were back toward the castle, swinging their linked hands idly back and forth as they sang the rest of the song together, getting louder and louder with each line.

“She'll see I'm not so tough, Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl! You know, I've seen her in her uptown world -- She's getting tired of her high-class toys And all her presents from her uptown boys.... She's got a choice! Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!”

Before long, all the two thought of while singing that song was hanging out together and being silly, while not caring what anyone else thought. Not a single word of the song brought Emily Tyler back to Bill’s mind -- and in the years to come, Bill would continue to enjoy the song with no negative connotations whatsoever, instead only remembering when Carewyn and he sang it at the top of their lungs to make him feel better. And that moment did indeed signal a shift in the dynamic between Carewyn and Bill. For Carewyn, it made her feel like she was walking home with Jacob again -- like she had an older brother who she could look after, the way she used to for Jacob. And for Bill, it made him feel like he’d acquired a second younger sister -- one who emotionally supported him the same way he did his real siblings.

One thing was for sure, though -- it was this moment, among many others to come, that cemented Bill and Carewyn as the very best of friends.

x~x~x~x

Tagging @the-al-chemist and @oneirataxia-girl for expressing interest in this prompt! 🤗

Carewyn’s dress is based on the design on the left 💗

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #bill weasley #carewyn cromwell #emily tyler #charlie weasley #my art #my writing #bill's secret #BILL MY BOY #I love you so much <33 #I went out of my way to try to write in some logic to how emily behaves that has links to her gryffindor placement #namely her desire for glory and to be well-regarded #it also would explain why bill didn't pick up on how terrible she was at first #she looks down on people who are below her specifically #around equals or people she wants to impress she'd be nicer #since bill has watched her from afar he wouldn't pick up on that :(#but yeah I felt like carey-bear just HAD to reclaim that song so that it didn't have to be something bill associated with emily forever #and yeah now it's something special between them as bffs!!#and bill does eventually find his own 'uptown girl' to marry <33 #(either carewyn's 'slytherin sister' jules farrier or fleur delacour depending on the canon >D)

37 notes · View notes