#please i spent too long thinking ab this lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetdreamsbuck · 2 years

Text

enraptured

beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader (lumby and bunny au)

w.c: fucking long i'm so sorry i have no control (8k)

warnings: SMUT, angst/mention of Bucky's past, oral (f rec), p in v, dom+needy!bucky (this is lumby we are talking ab), fluff, he's so in love that it's actually rude and you might die

summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

a/n: the long overdo lumby and bunny's first time. i'm so nervous to share this with you and i rewrote this about 3 times lmao. not proofread, all mistakes are my own. i hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think. tumblr did not want me posting this apparently, please read it lol xo

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

The last few months have been bliss, to put it bluntly.

As the ground awoke from the lasting bite of winter, so have you. His laugh, his voice, his scent, his eyes– god those fucking eyes.

Every day has been something new and exciting; your sweet boy has been nothing short of perfect in the little while you’ve gotten to know him.

Endearing, charming, attentive– but there was something burning under those layers of gleaming eyes and rosy pink cheeks; under his breathless giggles and groaned utterances of his shy ‘come on bun… you’re makin’ me go all silly’.

It wasn’t your fault he looked so pretty when he blushed.

You could feel it in his stare, in the way his hands started holding your curves with a bit more need– even apart from those few intense nights spent on his couch.

His touch had been something that hadn’t shied away from letting you know just where he wanted to be; holding you between his palms was where he felt he fit best.

The force his body used to chop heavy stumps day after day took a lot out of him– years of strain strenuous on his mind, on his limbs. Bucky’s hands only knew rough wind and a death grip; until he met just how soft you could feel under them, that was.

Now they caressed with a featherlight air, molding perfectly around the dips and swell of you. Bucky liked having his hands on you– he knew he just needed to touch you. But there was something off.

Almost as if he was afraid of placing them on you– a hesitancy you couldn’t quite name.

Running gentle tingles along the length of your spine, tracing circles and shy patterns into the secrecy of your sides, his hands began to relax for the first time in years. His lips would sear fire across every inch of skin they discovered, the plump pillows teasing your throat and the span of your shoulders with nervous breaths whispered.

If the shivers and soft whines you graced him with from just his recent discovery of weightlessness were this heavenly– fuck.

He’s fucked.

How’s he meant to contain all his desires– all the urges festering torturously in the pits of his stomach? He’d never be able to stay away once he knew what it was like to let himself go.

What if you felt the same way she did?

While his mouth caressed you, his hands followed. Ghosting over each trail and trace of his tongue, goosebumps spreading across your skin like sparks in a flame.

It was perfect. You’d never known being wanted could feel so right.

As you’d sink further into his chest, hands gripping the back of his neck while he tugged at your thighs to straddle him, he’d shut down. Meeting your movements for a moment, a low moan sounding deep in the depths of his throat as you rolled your hips, pulling at you desperately with a jolt of his core before he realized what he was doing.

Gasps of air and a shaky Bucky would act, anchoring his hands at your waist and slowing his lips gently up the side of your jaw. Chaste, teasing, a soft brush of ‘you’re so perfect bun,’ mumbled against your mouth before cuddling beside you on the couch, turning on a movie to cut through the tense air.

He wanted to take this slow– as slow as you’d let him. The sharp daggers embedded into his heart still left their sting, echoes of her words, 'You’re a fucking hermit. No one wants a man who can’t function in public. It’s embarrassing, really. I don’t want to live in the woods, let alone with you.'

'Let alone with you.'

He still hears it. He still feels it. True and bold, ringing loudly in every shielded touch on your back and hesitant kiss pressed against your temple.

'And you’re so clingy. My god. I need my own space, Bucky. You say you can’t breathe in the city and yet you manage to suffocate me here.'

He’s well over her. Hasn’t had a feeling toward that woman since she broke his heart. But the words left their boom, and with you– he’d never be able to stomach it. What if you felt the same way?

But fuck– he was going to combust. Bucky was certain of it. It was all he's been able to think about, to breathe about the last few weeks.

He felt his nerves taunting him with every moment he found himself in your presence, craving the need to know you deeper; to hold your palm, to name the hairs on the back of your neck, hell– to study the skin of your knees.

It might only be several weeks, but he knows. It’s love. He can’t remember the feeling ever being this scalding; the desire to be with someone every second of the day, the need to wrap himself around them and never let go– he loves you.

Bucky knew from the moment you stuffed your hands into his jacket that he needed you to cling to him like that forever.

Your touch is all consuming, a swell and tide he can’t help but long for. So good, so fucking good. His stomach wraps itself in tight knots thinking of how much he craves it.

He’s in love with you. Bucky wants to take this slow, and your accidental self-deprecating joke about how no one’s ever wanted to love you before on that amazing first date was not something he took lightly. But he feels the way you reach for him, the way you cling to him and softly whisper for more.

It’s that same nagging he feels pinching at his spine, too.

You’re both entirely too impatient.

And Bucky’s going to burst.

He wants to give you everything. To inhale you, to make you crave him as deeply as he’s addicted to you, to have you give yourself over to him wholly– but he can’t stop her words from haunting him.

There was a wavering hesitancy behind every brush of his hands, a sheltered sigh in each press of his lips against yours, until tonight.

•••

He asked you to dress nice, that it was a surprise– a date he’d been planning all week. Bucky knew you both loved spoiling those you cared for with nice things, with lavish gifts and surprises worthy of their heart. But he also knew– a bit smugly– that if he were to dress in his nicest button-down, arrange the rooms of his cabin with soft candles and the aroma of a delicious dinner that he cooked, you’d leap right out of your soles with delight.

Seeing you light up made everything seem so clear– the harsh noises bouncing around his head would cease, save for the loud thumping of his heart sounding soaringly in his ears. And in the safety of his own home, he’d have you all for himself.

But Bucky wasn’t prepared for the ground to freeze over the way it did when he opened the door to you.

A harsh huff of air leaves his lips, frozen solid at the base his tongue, incessant on the struggle of not letting it find its way back in. Unblinking eyes cradle every inch of your satin-adorned figure with a reverence unknown to you– unknown to anyone that wasn’t on the receiving end of it at this exact moment.

The ice spreads further, mouth frozen in place but his jaw loose as ever, itching to etch itself within your skin. The soft glow emanating from the way you look basking in the moonlight, peaking its way through the sea of thick evergreens littered behind you was a sight he’d never forget. Ever.

Not even a thermal camera could capture the radiance of what he feels, staring at you.

A deep black fabric clings a little too perfectly to your figure, the pudge of your stomach and dip of your hip highlighted beneath its silky sheen. A strappy pair of heels and a glossy stain on your lip sit prettily, complimenting the dress so simply– his throat is on fire.

Something too terribly similar to that of coarse ash and cinnamon line his airways, a roaring heat blazing pitifully in the base of his throat.

Dry, wordless, breathless.

And his brain can’t find the power to extinguish the feeling.

Struggling to think of anything but the way he can not handle being near you without his body betraying his fears; he stops fighting it. He needs you; to love you and suffocate you– and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you know it.

Letting his eyes sweep across every inch of you, painting the form of the angel standing before him with the smoke of an arctic storm behind his gaze, his pulse quickens with a renewed purpose. Heat pounds through his veins, straight to the very tips of his fingers and toes.

He’s so helplessly in love with you.

“You gonna let me in, Buck?” you laugh.

Oh.

His hand was gripped around the door since he’d opened it, so tightly you could've sworn the wood cracked a bit under his hold. Opening it all the way while his neck ran crimson, nodding furiously down at you as he ignores the splinters of wood falling from his fist.

Brushing a hand across his chest, your fingers toy with a button of his shirt before looking up at him through your lashes. “You, look incredible. Holy shit,” you smooth up his neck, pulling him down to press a short kiss to the side of his mouth before pushing past him, “so handsome.” He shudders at your voice, the spreading blush growing across his complexion at the flutter of your eager eyes and scurrying fingers.

Inebriation– amorous, hazardous, oh so beside himself in anguish with the sight in front of him; the fabric swaying with the taunt of your thighs, your perfume tickling past his nose and making his brain fuzzy. “Bunny…” he whispers.

He’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

“Yeah, Bucky?” turning to meet his eye, his air consumes you.

The weight of his compulsion happens in a surge, hand grabbing for your neck, the other squeezing around your hip. Propelled by your scent, by your intoxicating sting, crashing his towering frame into your softness as desperate lips meld against yours. His warm tongue invades your mouth, hungrily exploring with a new blaze, soft moans pressed against you as you melt into him. Decadent cologne tints your senses, sandalwood and spice seeping into every last pore of your skin as he sinks his claim deep within you.

His hand moves lower, grasping at your ass and pressing your hips against his, a deep chuckle sounding in his chest as he feels your hands begin to claw at him.

You’re nothing like her.

The desperation in each of your rushed embraces and heavy breaths confirms the shock with his sudden urge, the power and force of his movements quenching a drought you didn’t know was there. But this is only a small chip at the ice of who he really is, and he can’t wait to let himself go.

This new intensity in which he reached for you told you he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

You need more.

More of him, more of whatever it was he’s been hiding deep behind every breath and winded stroke of his knuckles against your cheek.

He sucks at your lip, biting and toying with you until you mewl and pull him back in, smoothing your hands around the back of his head and into his soft locks.

Time seems to cease when his hand cups your jaw and slants his soft mouth against yours, tilting your head delicately with a purposeful need. Teeth nip at your throat, lips soothing the ache, humming behind your ear, “M’sorry,” a low laugh, rich with disbelief. “I can’t even begin to tell you how gorgeous you are,” fixated on the spot just below your jaw, savoring your sigh. “We’d be here for a while if I tried.”

He doesn't voice it, but you hear him loud and clear: we have all night, bunny.

You grab his hair, needing him closer, heating up under his gravelly tone. His hands roam your back, clinging to the silky fabric sewn around you. “My goodness. This dress….”

Bucky feels it, the hardness growing against your thigh.

Your damn thighs.

Unashamedly, he nudges his nose along the shell of your ear. “Let’s go eat, pretty girl. Can't seem to control myself around ya anymore…” admission never felt so easy, his sheepish smirk something gluttonous. “Been cooking all afternoon. Promised you a nice evening, didn’t I?” He pulls away sweeping his hunger over you, unbridled lust burning every inch of you. A shiver rumbles deep in your chest under his gaze, cold fingers dancing up your back before brushing down your arms, linking his hand with yours.

“You’re all mine for the rest of the night,” he brings your fingers to meet his eager lips, brushing your knuckles against him. Awe slips through his kisses, a softly muttered confession spilled to the veins of your hand, “Can’t believe you’re here with me right now.”

The scent of earthy tomatoes and warm bread carries you both over to the kitchen, Bucky's thumb brushing over your knuckles as you take in the sight of his table: decorated with a gorgeous bouquet of roses, a few candles, and two perfectly plated meals sitting closely to one another.

“What do you mean?” you question breathlessly, oregano and garlic filling your nostrils.

He pulls out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit before sauntering over to open a bottle of wine. A glimmer of cynicism flickers across his features, a short smile falsely placed. His tongue sweeps over his lip before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

He looks at you with a telling shake of his head, light of just how stunned he finds himself apparent while grabbing your wine glass and filling it, “Someone like you doesn’t just come walking into my life– anyone’s life, actually.” He sets your glass in front of you, picking up his own to fill. “Don’t think anyone on earth understands what it’s like getting to know you, to be with you while you walk around…” he tapers off, adoration apparent in the lusty blues of his eyes sweeping over you, “shit– looking like you do. Having you want to be here in my home...dressing up nice for me. It's a lot. I'm not used to it."

'I'm not used to feeling wanted.'

And god do you want him.

He grabs his glass and holds it up to your wide and waiting eyes, nodding for you to raise yours to toast. “To the most perfect person I’ve ever met. And for being here with me”

You shake your head, speechless and bashfully clinking your glass against his. “Such a smooth talker, Bucky.”

A giggle slips past your tongue, nervously swishing the red liquid around the glass before bringing it to your lips.

He hums, eyebrow quirking up at your dismissal. “Don’t need to be one when it comes to you. You make feeling things… painfully easy. But so difficult to concentrate. Yeah,” he nods to himself, basking in the chill of your wide eyes flitting across his face, “so fucking difficult.”

You preen under his husky admittance, a warmth spreading through your core. “I know the feeling,” a sheepish chirp. He squints his eyes at you, taking a sip of his wine. “But you're wrong, you know. No one who’s anything like you goes around inviting me over and cooking me a meal.”

He timidly smirks at that, the pink stain you love tainting his cheeks. “Such a shame. Guess that’s my problem to fix then, huh?” he shrugs, pulling his chair to sit next to you, the frames kissing one another.

He tries not to observe like a hawk– he really does. Opening his mouth to say something, anything, so he doesn't make a babbling fool of himself. But he can't help it.

Those words.

Anxious feelings creep back in, following your every move as you scoop a forkful of pasta, nerves accelerating past a scream before he can stop himself, “I know you like Italian so I thought I’d make some pasta. It was ma’s recipe and uh, I love it but I haven’t had someone worth making it for in a long time and I hope it’s ok because now that I think about it, I haven’t really coo–” a deep moan cuts him off, your eyes shutting in appreciation as the taste of warm pepper and fresh garlic invades your tastebuds.

“Gosh Bucky, this is delicious. Mmm, your mom is a genius. This is incredible,” you scoop another bite into your mouth, his nerves dissipating with every word and soft moan of praise.

Fuck– he’s not making it out of tonight alive.

“I believe I cooked this for you, not my mother,” he chides, a bit shaky but just as playful as ever.

Your eyes skim up past his broad frame, watching his shoulders expand as he nervously exhales. It's perfect, really; the way he needs you to know how special this is to him, how good it makes him feel being here with you. The spread of your lips is inevitable, a blinding smile curling inside the high rounds of your cheeks. The joy buzzing across your face rapids down his spine in swift waves, your knee brushing against his as the point of your shoe meets his calf under the table.

The smile grants him reprieve, the air filtering through his chest somewhat normally, grinning so boyishly as you grab your glass, finishing it all in one gracious gulp. “Well then, just gonna have to send my compliments to the chef. How would he like my gratitude?”

Your foot travels up the inside of his leg, your bodies acutely more awake than when you first sat down.

“However you’d like. As long as it’s from you,” his hand smoothes across your leg, fingers dancing past your knee, slipping under the creamy fabric of your dress. “I’m sure we can work something out….” Bucky's lips bow to meet your shoulder, a lull brushing effortlessly against your warm skin and moving up your throat. “But I’m gonna need you to eat that whole plate. Can’t have you growing weak on me,” he hums against your ear, pressing a quick promise to your pulse.

Dinner continued on like that– with desires of something even tangier than the zest of parmesan or the basil he decorated his sauce with. Whispered taunts and giggles against the ear of the other, wandering fingers and teasing hands itching to explore.

Bucky was right– feeling things had been painfully easy. Easy, but so beyond your willpower to try and focus on anything half the time; it was exciting. To feel any and every little thing all at once.

Tonight, you needed him to know how you’ve been feeling– all the greedy thoughts and cries you’ve been hiding away in each chase of his lips and slow grind of your hips. But this quickening darkness in his eyes, in the fervor of his hands, in the rasp of his voice– he was feeling it too. If not just as much, more.

You love him.

His hand never left your thigh throughout dinner, stroking tenderly. Pressing his calloused fingertips into you, kneading and tracing circles into the skin he had yet to get a look at.

His meal was finished long before yours, antsy and desperate to be near you, to touch you. And god, that neck. The scent of your skin has been choking him all night, he needs to memorize it, to drown in it.

Bucky’s hand snakes up your back, tracing the soft divots at the top of your spine as you rambled on about work. Nodding every so often at a particular point you’d make, intently and actively trying to focus on your words; on what Clarence did to make you so mad, on how your boss jipped you of your time off; but falling victim to the shape of your lips, to the cute frustration in your forehead, the strength behind the arch of your brow.

He couldn’t think of a moment that made more sense than this– being here with you, listening to your voice fill him in on the bits of your day he missed out on.

To hear about your day, your worries, the things that made you smile, your successes and failures– it was all he wanted. Terribly so; his fingers ached.

Bucky wanted this. So much– to love you with everything he had.

It happened before you could realize, his hand gliding up and up, slithering with a gentle scratch at your sensitive flesh until his knuckle ghosted against your center. A thin whine leaves your throat, your legs clamping around him. His fingers still, trapped hot and excited between your soft thighs.

And that’s when your sweet boy finally snaps. “You make me crazy, bunny,” his dark eyes lock on yours, sliding the hand wrapped around the back of your neck to encircle your thigh, urging you to rest on the spread of his legs.

Your thighs willingly part, resting against his wall of muscle he calls a leg, his hand free and steeping to explore the rest of you. “I can’t control my thoughts anymore. You’re all I think about. Day and night. You, you, you.” His hand inches slowly, the satin pooling around his arm as he travels higher and higher, fingers erupting prickles of excitement along your skin.

Nudging his nose against yours, his lips meet your cheek, eyes fluttering in a torturous surrender. “My sweet girl.”

Wounded with desire, an agonizing fever mouths his raspy heat in declarations along the curves of your face. “You,” pressed to the corner of your mouth.

“You”, trailing along your jaw.

“You”, bitten against your pulse.

“Bucky,” you breathe out, grasping his broad shoulders between your palms.

A ravenous moan surges through him, inhaling the length of your neck, trembling as your legs open wider to his touch, drunk and emboldened from the way your body listens to him.

He knew you’d be such a good girl for him.

“I gotta touch you, bun,” he growls. “I gotta have you,” his arm slinks around your back to pull you to rest across his lap. His hand stays under your dress, toying with the lace keeping you from him.

Lips play at your collarbone, a rough finger stroking along the wet gusset of your panty. “Do you know what you do to me?” a husky plea twirls around the base of your neck, scratching at your skin. Bucky nips across your shoulder, pulling the strap of your dress between his teeth and down your arm.

Goosebumps spread under his breath, his stubble branding his urgency into even the most ordinary parts of you.

“Please Bucky,” you whine, locking your fingers in the thick tendrils of hair along his scalp.

Such a good girl for him.

He shivers as your nails send volts of sweet pain past every nerve, moaning shakily into the smooth satin around your chest. You squirm under the vibration, under the tickle of the finger tracing along your clothed folds, moving your hips to beg him to press harder.

But he stills.

His eyes stay closed, heavy breathing filling the silence of the room. You breathe against his forehead, soothing your fingers through his hair. “Bucky?”

His head shakes against you, his mouth returning to your skin while wrapping you up in his arms, standing from the table, “Not here, bun. Absolutely not on a damn kitchen chair.”

Arms cling to his broad back, wrapping your legs around him as he makes haste towards his bedroom. His lips never leave you, tasting the column of your throat, expertly making his way through the cabin without ever looking up.

He steps through his door, the room dark, illuminated only by the light peering through his window.

Laying you gently in the center of his large bed, he moves to switch on the lamp in the corner. It only helps bare a wash of color privy to his sight, a warm radiance adding to the allure of the mesmeric beauty he can't wait to lose himself to. His eyes spare a glimpse, unable to withstand the temptation of your song, of that sweet enticement any longer.

Fuck. He's never seen something more beautiful.

Heels kick at each other, crazed motions to flip off his shoes, his eyes distracting him with the promise of that thigh peeking its canvas out of your dress, of the shape of your body mocking his inability to do one simple thing without needing to devour you.

Shoes get flung somewhere on his floor and Bucky can't help but look at you– can't help but allow the ache in his stomach, the throbbing between his thighs to stir and boil so uncomfortably.

His bunny, sitting so perfectly where he left you.

His heart stammers in his chest, kneeling on the bed before cupping his hand around your throat, sliding up the side of your neck. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, your erratic breathing; the strap of your dress right as he pulled it; a hedonic sheen of need glazing over your skin inviting him to drown, to sink even further into depths he no longer can fight to stay afloat in. It's rapturous.

Bucky feels his insides shaking, screaming at the way your pulse feels under his hand, how you lean into the strength of his palm wrapped around you with such zeal. It's addictive. How you clearly want this, his touch, him.

He explores further, his thumb brushing over your jaw, moving to trace the outline of your lips. You press against his thumb, soothing the twitch in the pad of his finger, rubbing your cheek against his palm.

Your lips send a trickle of pleasure down his arm, the darkness swimming in his eyes to siphon his greed and need hurdling through the room. Leaning back, nimble fingers clutch around his wrists to pull him with you.

Bucky cages his forearms around your head, nosing down your body with an appetite of awe in his eyes. He shifts, hands sliding down your curves before bunching at the bottom of your dress. Your legs part, helping him lift the fabric as he pushes it up your thighs.

There’s a nervous tremble in his hands, that hesitancy you know all too well seeping in the passion of his intent. His eyes meet yours and plead, hands freezing reluctantly. That same cynicism from earlier twinkles behind his gaze, a sad smile tugging at his cheek.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” you grab his hands in yours, sitting up to focus on his face. “Did I do something? Do you want to stop?"

His eyes widen, his hands immediately grasping your forearms. “Never bun, you could never. Fuck, no I don't. Far from it– I’m uh, I’m just scared.” His hand grabs a piece of your hair that fell out of place, toying with it to distract himself. "So scared."

“Scared? Of what baby?” his eyes soften at your tone, at the way you didn't think twice of the term of endearment sliding so swiftly off the roll of your tongue.

“Of how perfect this feels. You just…you’re so…you make me...” he groans, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face. “What if you get tired of me? What if I annoy you? What if you hate this? What if I can't be–”

“I love you,” you don’t even hesitate. Pulling his cheeks between your palms. His eyes widen, breath stolen deep in his chest. “Bucky. I love you. And I could never hate this.”

His stare is molten, white-hot adoration unblinking with stupefied shock written all over his features.

“You just cooked me an entire meal in a cabin you built with your own damn hands. And you're worried I can get tired of you?” you brush a hand through his hair, curling up against his thigh. “You are perfect, James. Everything about you.”

Bucky swears he's listening, he sees your lips continuing to move, saying something about choking the life out anyone who told him otherwise, but he can't seem to hear anything. The sparkle of your confession pouring loudly through every bit of him– and truly, it's all he needed.

You love him.

His smile grows wide, wider than you've ever seen it, eyes glistening with a dark vibrance as his tune changes. “You love me?” he squeezes his hands around your hips, pushing you onto your back.

You meet the soft mattress with a giggle, nodding your head as he smashes his mouth against yours.

“Me? You love me?” he laughs, in between his vicious attack against your cheeks. “I love you so much,” his lips trail down your jaw, “I love you,” to your collarbone, “so much. So so much.”

His hands slip down the fabric of your dress, finding the trim and pushing it upwards. Your hands wrap around his wrists, eyes locking as you join him in slowly tugging it up your body.

Murmurs of his love swim around you, whether he's aware of them or not. Soft whispers, bold declarations pour from his lips with an air you could feel was undeniably his– undeniably the true and honest breath of the Bucky you love.

His eyes never leave yours, letting go of the fabric to intertwine your hands, sliding them to rest above your head. A kiss is pressed against each palm as he drops them above you, carefully carding the satin up and dragging it over your head.

It gets stuck, your arms tangled in the straps he worked so hard to not have this happen, but all you can do is laugh.

Laugh– at the frustrated sigh that leaves his mouth, from the way he's still completely dressed, from the thrill of getting to share this with him. Love.

And god, if it wasn't pure unadulterated bliss.

That boyish giggle soon finds its way up your stomach, kisses pressing against you as he flings the dress behind him dramatically.

Bucky cants back on his heels, eyes roaming over every inch of your figure with this new honesty of his, goosebumps erupting under his intensity. “My god…” he swallows, unsuccessfully. The air strangles him, exploding in his throat as he tries to mutter anything but your name.

“You're not real,” his fingers graze down your body, over your peaked nipples, razzing the sensitive tips with faint circles, trailing torturously under the swell of your breasts. Your whines and gasps fuel his exploration, dragging them down the softness of your middle, the branded marks littering your skin that he starves to memorize.

His touch scorches against you with such famished rage, worshipping you until your insecurities melt away– until he's tainting your skin with only his fervent breath of possession.

Grasping your thighs, he can't help but moan, lifting a leg to his lips. “I love you,” he breathes, kissing down your soft flesh, stroking at your calf. “And the heels are staying on tonight,” he chuckles against your ankle.

That mouth can't seem to keep away from your skin, thirsty, caressing its way back up to you and showering your other leg with attention.

Teeth and tongue drag along your inner thigh, his hand toying with the band of your panties. “But these are coming off.”

A bite squeezes the pudge of your hip, gently soothing the sting with his tongue before grasping the lace between his teeth, pulling it down the swell of your thighs. “Yes, Bucky."

And oh god, he whimpers– melting under the way his name sounds, so weighted but breathless, pulled so high and and desperately from your chest. Excited hands quickly remove the lace from the rest of you, a tear of fabric stretching through the air, but you can't find the need to care.

Such a good fucking girl for him.

“Need to make you mine, bun. Gotta taste you,” he lays himself down between your thighs, wrapping his hands around your legs and placing them over his shoulders. “So fucking beautiful, got the prettiest pussy,” he whines, taking in the mesmerizing view of your glistening folds, watching your slick drip from you.

"All fucking mine," he hums.

“Keep your eyes on me bun, need you to watch me,” his low voice growls, his hands locking themselves tightly around you.

Kisses pepper up your thigh, his nose inhaling your scent with a shudder in his shoulders. So fucking good. Placing a kiss to your clit, his eyes watch, hungry to catch every move of yours intently. Your body caves at the sensation, a thin gasp pulling from the pit of your stomach, the sound all he needs to hear before licking a fat long stripe through your folds.

Oh it's so soft, so strong, your hips jerk under his warm tongue, the thick stroke of it nestling itself through you and brushing over your clit. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he moans, sucking more of you into his mouth.

He pulls you closer, licking obscenely around your cunt before locking his lips around your clit. He moans feeling your hands tug against his hair, scratching at his scalp while he laves hurried strokes at your throbbing nub.

Jolts of pleasure rip down your spine, his tongue flattening and pushing against you, unrelenting motions sending you higher and higher. “So good Bucky, fuck keep doing that,” you cry, his mouth pulses ferociously around you as he continues to bask in pleasure.

Your head falls back, curses leaving your lips as his tongue curls, fists so tightly drawn your nails leave indents, his warm muscle stroking you just right. You've always known how attentive he was but fuck– Bucky is a really fast learner, picking up quickly on just how to play with you.

A hand slaps firmly against your thigh, a yelp leaving your lips as he grunts against you. Your eyes flicker down, a smug look of disapproval on his face as he teasingly licks through your folds. “Eyes on me, bun.”

An apology rolls of your tongue, squirming under his wanton stare– that devilish mouth.

Bucky pulls you back into his warm, wet hold, devouring you with a lewd possessiveness you didn’t know could exist. Pressing his own hips into the mattress, moaning and trying to soothe the throb of watching you writhe under his tongue.

Look at you, making a mess all for him. He can't get enough of you like this.

Your hips roll against his ministrations, trying to meet the immense pleasure his salacious kisses send through you. He mumbles, heady and deep 'such a good fucking girl for me, that's it bun' the vibrations severing heat through your core, your toes curling and your hands fisting tightly against his pillows.

“You’re so good Bucky fuck, feels so good,” you cry out, breathless and thin causing another delicious moan from his mouth to grace your core. Your heels dig into his shoulders, pricking and scratching his back with every lap of his tongue. His cock throbs achingly against the mattress, your whines and sweet cries pushing him to a hardness he didn't know was possible.

God you have no idea how fucking good that makes him feel.

He shakes his head from side to side, his tongue lashing around your aching clit, the muscles in your stomach tensing as you feel a powerful release approaching. He shoves a finger into you, curling and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll.

“I’m gonna cum Buck— fuck don’t stop,” you wail.

As if I'd ever do something as stupid as that, bun. A throaty chuckle pulses around your clit, a scream bubbling up the length of your throat and filling the room.

He adds another finger, stroking them against you as the muscles in your stomach unravel, piercing waves of warm pleasure crashing around you.

That tongue never ceases, his mouth drinking up every last drop, moaning and basking in the praise your cries and words grant him. You feel him smirk against you, your hands trying to pull his head away but he just keeps going, his lips sucking you further and further as you arch your back higher.

Eyebrows lift, the thin rims of his ceruleans sending you a smug glare as you continue to spew incoherent cries about how good it feels, how you can’t take anymore, oh Bucky fuck, please don’t stop.

Bucky's in heaven– fervid lust moaned against you, torrid sirens of pure rapture searing through you as he worships you insatiably between his lips. He can’t stop now– now that he knows how sweet you taste, how good you sound begging for him.

It's all your fault, bun.

Your legs tremble around him, walls clenching around his tortuous fingers, sending miles of avid pleasure straight to the throb of his dick with every jab of your heels. His mouth lifts from you, kissing softly against your thigh as he removes his hand, bringing his two fingers up to his eager lips.

He moans, licking up all your essence dripping around his palm. “That was incredible, bunny. Never felt anything like that…” he clutches his shirt, neglecting to finish unbuttoning it all the way before ripping it off of him completely.

He never felt anything like that? Smug, evil, perfectly devilish bastard.

Spit mixed with your juices coats his stubble, a pretty sheen glistening on the lower half of his face, somehow making him appear even more irresistible. His tongue flicks around his mouth, licking up more of you. Now that he knows your taste, he's never letting it go.

He tugs at his belt, removing it in one fluid motion before discarding it across the room. Popping the button of his slacks, pulling the zipper down and kicking them off his legs.

“So fucking good for me,” he groans to himself, watching your limbs quake, gripping his aching bulge with a heavy fist.

You tremble under his gaze, the lasting intensity of the two fierce orgasms he pulled from you tingling deliciously, preening at the godlike body on display before you. Your eyes sweep over every inch of warm, corded, muscle; thick and perfectly carved.

Your eyes alone could be his ruin– and he wouldn't want it any other way. Destroy him, break him, ruin him– just never stop looking at him.

Watching you, he takes in the softness of your face, the debauched and drunk glaze of your eyes. Even with the wrecked look muddling your vision, he's never felt so cherished by someone's stare in his life.

And he sees where they're burning to glimpse at.

Your eyes land between his thighs and even with briefs on, he’s fucking huge.

A shy chuckle brews in his stomach as your eyes widen, his hands shakily moving to discard his sticky briefs. Bucky’s thick, throbbing cock slaps against his stomach, wet and glistening, the tip red and leaking with proof of his arousal.

Holy shit– there’s no way he’s going to fit.

“Oh I’ll fit, bun.”

Shit, you said that out loud.

Earnest joy grips his face, boring his eyes into yours before positioning himself over you. A hand cradles your cheek, pulling himself in for a kiss while rubbing circles into your thigh.

Lips drape over yours, lamented fervor lacing the cavern of your mouth. Tongue and teeth clash together, his eagerness tracing your lips to memory with the plea of more.

He could kiss you forever if you'd let him.

The lasting taste of you on his tongue is tangy, filthy, your hands moving to the back of his neck and itching for more. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing his nose against yours.

You smile against his cheek, biting him softly before rolling yourself up against his cock, “I love you, Bucky.” His hips jolt forward, a dark chuckle rumbling in his throat.

God– the things you make him wanna do.

His hand grabs his cock, swiping it through your folds before nudging your sensitive clit, rubbing your wetness around him.

Pressing the tip of himself against you, he moves in teasing circles, lips sprawling across your chest. The way your body responds to his every move is addictive, it's not his fault you're such a good girl for him.

The tongue flicking against your nipple matches the motion of his cock, a breathy whimper etching itself to the side of his neck. "Bucky, please. No more teasing."

Sucking you into his mouth he moans, giving in to the flames raining down his spine as your fingers claw at his skin. They move to tangle with his hair, arching yourself further in his rousing tongue.

Can't help myself, bun, it's all your fault.

Tugging at your other nipple, rolling it sharply to distract you before kneading the entirety of your breast, squeezing with such need, you feel it in the tips of your toes.

Stroking his cock once, twice, before lining up with your entrance, Bucky pushes in slowly. Torturously, making you feel every ridge and throbbing vein of his dick. Rolling his hips, groaning as he feeds you inch by inch, his cock sending shocks straight through you.

"Almost there bun, doin' so good for me. Just a bit more," he moans, your cunt tighter than anything he's felt before. Kisses dance along your temple, distracting you from the agonizing stretch and himself from forcing his hips down.

Because fuck, he knows once he's in there's no coming out.

"Takin' me so well, sweet girl. I love you," a gasp leaves both of your lips, his hips kissing yours as he bottoms out, jittery in the feeling of your wet heat around him.

Heavy breaths fill the air, the stretch of his cock between your silken walls so overwhelming, you've never felt so full in your life.

“Please Bucky,” you whine, pressing your mouth against his jaw, prodding for a desperate kiss. “Fuck me, please,” you whine, wiggling your hips against him. He trembles, pulling out and thrusting back into you.

His hips lunge, slowly and forcefully, a moderate pace that's measured and precise. Bucky can't go any faster, not yet, it'll be over entirely too soon– he needs to memorize this. The feel of your wet walls finally wrapped around him is too good, sending his mind into overdrive. The slow pound of his hips steadily grants you both miserable bouts of maddening pleasure. “You feel so fucking good,” he moans, biting into your shoulder to ground himself.

Your hands claw at his back, nails digging into the bulging muscles as his heavy body propels his thrusts. He lifts your legs around his waist, driving his weight behind his strokes and pressing you into his mattress.

"Fit so perfect around me, feels incredible, so tight." He's right– it's so good. So fucking good you could scream.

You do.

Your nails pierce him, skin rippling and burning under your hold, wails of pleasure fluttering past his ears and encouraging him further. His chest constrains you, pushing down on you with such force, pining you under all his weight as he clutches the pillows.

Forehead resting against yours, he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head in ecstasy. "That's right bun, feels so good, doesn't it?"

He needs to hear more, needs to feel you ripping him piece by piece, until all he can do is give you everything you need.

The need to tear you apart; to submerge you in every ounce of desperation he breathes; to have you completely unravel around him, wrecked and clinging to him.

He wants to give you everything. He lifts up, looking down at his cock driving in and out of you, the stretch of your walls around his girth perfect with each snap of his hips. Bucky's head falls back, moaning at the lewd sounds his cock makes spearing into your wet heat.

It's so good, so so good, he needs to stay like this forever.

He untangles your legs from around him, lifting them up and around his arms, the force of his hips punching a spot so deep, your eyes roll back, the muscles in your stomach wrapping around each other with a sharp inhale.

"Bucky, baby I'm gonna cum," you wail, a sound so desperate, so wanton, it echoes vivaciously around the room, wrapping your cunt tighter around Bucky's dick.

"That's it bun, look at you. Sound so fucking good taking me. Fuck, you're chokin' me. Wish you could feel how good you are," he praises, each utterance met with a rough, punctuated stroke. You feel incredible, he's never gonna leave.

Bucky’s balls slap against the skin of your ass, the sound mixing with the salacious suck of your pussy and cries of pleasure. "Bucky, s'good. Right there baby don't stop," you moan.

He grasps your wrists and pins them above you, pressing you down with all of his strength into the mattress. His hips continue their painfully slow thrusts, every throb and twitch of his cock ingrained in the pulsating quiver of your walls.

"Fuck bunny, that's it, cum for me, be my good girl and cum," his teeth suck at your neck, branding bruises of passion and wells of pleasure to pool deep within your stomach. The tight winding of your muscles snap, crazed and pounding pleasure erupting through you.

"I love you, I love you so much," he groans, the pulsing and clench of your walls around him almost too much to handle.

He lifts your thighs higher, bending you in half.

"My good girl, so good for me. No one makes me feel like this," he barks, pushing you through the throes of your orgasm with a hasty jerk of his hips.

"M'yours Bucky," you wail, walls fluttering desperately around him, torrential swells of pleasure prickling every nerve of your body.

“Say it again,” he growls, hips stuttering for a moment.

“I’m yours, all yours Bucky,” you plead. He latches his mouth around your nipple, flicking and sucking it sharply between his teeth.

“Again,” a roaring moan rips through him. Bucky’s eyes pierce straight through you, wrapping themselves around you as he feels your heart thump viciously under him.

“Only yours,” your nails rake down his back, the sting urging him to bounce his hips harder against you. Your hands dig into the globes of his ass, thighs wrapping themselves higher up around his waist. “Please, Bucky. Please oh fuck,” your cries grow louder, hips desperate to meet his with every harsh thrust.

Bucky drops your legs, your weak limbs pliant and shaking in his hold. A strong arm lifts under your hips, plunging himself into you so deep, deeper and deeper until he has to remind you to breathe. His thighs start to shake, the grip your cunt has on his cock strangling him so firmly he's whining. "Fuck bun, so good for me, so good," he cries.

The sound of skin slapping and lewd squelching bellows in the room, moans and words of praise permeating every inch of Bucky's cabin. His hold forces you to feel every last inch of him, your hips meeting his with all the energy you can muster.

"Oh fuck– so fucking perfect for me, all mine," he growls, pounding his hips into you so meticulously, so deep you feel him in your chest. "Need one more bun, need to feel you one more time, please."

His hand dances down your skin, meeting your swollen clit with a harsh flick of his wrist. Oh shit it feels so good, too much Bucky too fucking good.

Your walls spasm uncontrollably, squeezing him so tightly he can't breathe, but fuck– it's heaven.

Don't stop please don't ever stop bounces around the room– was that your words or his? Your body arches higher and higher, another shattering orgasm bursting through you. Your walls scream around him, the wet unrelenting clench choking him so tightly he swears he sees stars across your skin.

"I love you," he moans, unable to control the aching sob of his dick any longer. His hips quiver, his high raging through you in thick, hot white ropes of his spend. Whimpers leave his lips as you milk him dry, cum dripping and ripped from him with every last stutter and weak move of his hips. Bucky collapses on top of you, still hard, deep inside you.

Your hands card through his hair, holding him closely to the swell of your chest. His body melts against you, shaky breaths tickling your skin with every trace of your fingers against his scalp.

"I love you," you whisper, "and I plan on it for a long time, as long as you'll let me."

Watery blue eyes peer up at you, his skin sticky, but clinging to yours so tightly for the first time. Tingling with a rosy tint, bashful and so safe under your stare, he's never felt words so profound in his life.

He's never felt so wanted.

You lull his head back down, softly sweeping over the lines of his face, sloping your fingers down the curves of his neck.

A whimper of content sounds softly from his lips, preening under your touch and squeezing himself tighter around you. And for the first time, he lets himself feel it.

Sleep taunts him so sweetly, the love he feels infused in the reverent tremble of your fingers, saturating him so deeply is enough to drag him under.

"All yours, Bucky," you sigh, softly planting your lips along his hairline.

Oh.

Oh yeah. He's fucked.

#bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you

3K notes · View notes

whereisten · 3 years

Text

Netflix and Chill (f,m)

(Part of the prompt game, but I got so many requests for Jaehyun I decided to combine them into one blurb lmao hope that’s okay with you guys😭)

Warnings: SMuT: fingering, breast fondling, impregnating kink, c*eampie

(Will definitely edit this later)

4. cold

13. motivation

17. icicles

18. train ride

22. snow globe

27. movie night

————-

[11:56 PM]

It’s movie night with your boyfriend, Jaehyun, but he can’t seem to stop glancing over at you. He finds the movie you two are watching on Netflix boring as it follows a boy and girl that meet on a train ride after both being cheated on the night before. The plot is slow and Jaehyun can only think about how good you looked in your New Year’s Eve outfit the night before. How you walked around with a coat over your dress outside, but teased him once the two of you were back at his place by wearing it over nothing.

You were too tired and hungover to do anything with him, so you both fell asleep and spent the entire day together. And now, Jaehyun felt as thought you owed him.

You’re cuddled up on the couch with your knees to your chest as you try to warm your body up.

“Are you cold?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know, it’s not like there aren’t icicles literally forming outside right now.” You mutter.

“Don’t get smart with me.” His hand drifts to your thigh, he squeezes it.

“Or what?” You raise an eyebrow and turn to him.

He smirks and tilts his head before biting his lip.

“I can keep you warm, if you’d like.”

“No, I’m enjoying the movie..” you turn back to the screen. Jaehyun always did this on your movie nights. He always ended up fucking you so you missed the movie, but tonight you really just wanted to watch something.

“Are you sure?”

He traces his hand over your thigh and presses his fingers closer and closer to your warmth.

“Jaehyun...Our motivation to stay inside and watch a movie was the snow storm, wasn’t it? We said we would watch a movie and cuddle.”

Jaehyun nods. “But we could have some fun as well, we should start the year right.”

“I want to watch the movie..”

“Let’s play a game, you can sit on my lap and watch it, how does that sound?”

“Fine, but don’t try anything.” You roll your eyes and climb over onto his lap. He chuckles lowly while still rubbing his hands slowly over your thighs.

You feel his hot breath against the back of your neck and find it difficult to focus on the movie now, but you were determined to watch it.

Jaehyun’s left hand doesn’t stop moving, he inches it closer to your apex and eventually pushes it past the waist band of your shorts. He rests his long fingers on your skin, exhaling when he doesn’t hear you protest.

You can feel his erection against your butt, but decide to do nothing about it.

“Mmmm..” he hums to get your attention then uses his fingertips to play with your clit. You bite your lip and widen your legs more, your eyes still glued to the screen. You had to admit, you weren’t really focused anymore, you were becoming hot and bothered by Jaehyun. You couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Are you gonna help me with this?” He whispers lowly into your ear while taking his member out of his boxers and stroking it. Goosebumps decorate your skin, but you don’t dare look over at his tempting dick.

You shake your head even as his fingers go lower and lower.

“Fine.” He pushes past your folds and fingers you with just his middle finger. You try to hold back a moan but fail.

Jaehyun laughs as he pumps his cock with his other hand, spreading his pre cum across it. He imagines that it’s your spit on his hard cock, that it’s your delicate hand stroking him.

His muscular arms engulf you as you drink in his fresh scent and heavenly grunts.

His chest is warm against your back, his lips just grazing your shoulder as they fall open to release another groan.

“Fuck..so wet, baby girl..”

“Jaehyun..you’re making this difficult.” You sigh and grab at your breasts under your oversized t shirt that you stole from him.

He adds another finger while smirking, he knows that he’s gotten to you and you can’t focus on anything but him.

You grind onto his fingers and whimper, swiveling your hips and pushing your butt into him more. You’re suddenly aching for more and chasing a climax brought upon by his wonderful fingers.

“I’ll make you a promise baby girl...” he curves his finger tips inside you to press against that spot he knows will make you fall apart in seconds.

“Jae..don’t..don’t stop..” your head falls back and you pump your breasts even harder.

But he ignores your high-pitched pleas and pulls you up off of him. He places you down beside him on the couch.

“Jae..” you pout.

He then picks up a snow globe from the center table and holds it up in front of you.

“Fuck me until all the snow comes down. Whether or not I cum, we will stop when all of it comes down and we’ll just watch the movie, okay?”

You nod and watch as he shakes the snow globe aggressively. You both laugh at how dramatic he is, but once he places it back onto the table, he turns to you and holds your face in his hands.

You kiss for what feels like years, however Jaehyun knows that his time is limited so he palms your breasts. He locks his eyes with yours as he drags your shorts down your legs slowly and bites his lip.

He then takes you back onto his lap with you facing him now. You bend your knees so that your legs are over his. He guides you down onto his hard cock while letting out the sexiest groan you’ve ever heard.

“Mmmm..so tight.” he places his hands over your ass to move it up and down onto him slowly. Your nipples stick out through the thin t shirt material, begging to be touched.

“I know you’re cold, but you’ll look so much better without this.” He takes your shirt off and tosses it across the room.

He then licks your nipples and thrusts up into your body as you cry out his name. Your hands find his wide shoulders and use them as an anchor.

You move faster, feeling your velvety walls close around his thick length like he’s the perfect fit. You feel every vein and ridge as he glides into you easily.

His length goes into you so deep, his swollen tip already presses onto your sweet spot. You moan as he continues to flatten his tongue against your nipple before sucking.

He pumps your breasts, watching as you throw your head back and move faster onto him.

He places his fingers onto your clit, rubbing circles to get you to clench.

“You like that, don’t you?” His husky voice lets out.

“Yes, baby...fuck.”

Your movement slows slightly as you get tired so he holds you by the waist and slides out of you. He places you down onto the couch and you immediately prop yourself up on your elbows and put your ass up in the air for him.

“Well, sweetheart, as much as I’d love to continue..it looks like our time has run our.” He chuckles and holds the snow globe in front of your face. Your face falls when you see that all of the snow has fallen to the ground.

“Jaehyun! Forget the snow globe, fuck me please.”

“No no, I keep my promises, you can watch your movie now..”

“Ugh!!! I hate you! This was your plan, wasn’t it?” You place your fingers into the space his cock left and begin to relieve yourself.

“I’ll just do it myself..” you grunt.

Jaehyun laughs quietly to himself then kneels behind you. He takes his shirt off then grabs your hair and snaps your head back.

“Tsk tsk, what a needy girl.”

He immediately grabs your wrist and forces your own fingers out of your trembling body.

He slides his dick into you and slams his hips against your ass.

“Oh..shit!” You cry out out as his grip on your waist tightens and he buries into you deep from your favorite angle. You grip the armrest of the couch as he pounds into you from behind.

Your bodies are hot against each other, you’re no longer cold as he fucks you into the couch without any intention of letting up on the forcefulness of his thrusts.

He places his hand into the small of your back, making you arch so that you feel his cock twitching in the base of your stomach.

You can’t think straight as the sound of his hips slapping against your ass fills the room. Across from the couch is mirror that you often watch yourselves in.

Jaehyun’s eyes are dark. He watches sweat form across you forehead, your breasts jerk forward with each push. His biceps and abs flex as well, and a strand of his brown hair falls into his forehead as he ruins you.

Your mouth falls open when he hits that one spot over and over. Your eyes shut tightly as you curse. over and over.

“Fuck... you take me so well” he pants as you clench. He pushes into you even faster while you rub your clit. The thought of you being so full of him that you leak for hours or possibly become pregnant turns him on even more.

He tugs on your hair. “look at me.” he demands with a threatening growl in his tone that just makes him sexier. Your eyes fly open and you look at him through the mirror once more.

He licks his lips. “I’m gonna cum in you, fill you up, that’s what you want, right?”

“Y-yes..fu—“ your eyes roll in the back of your head and your mind goes blank.

Jaehyun climaxes after, shooting strings of cum deep into you while holding you against him.

He falls on top of you and regains steady breathing as do you.

A few seconds pass and he pulls out of you and flips you over onto the couch.

“Fuck, that was good.” You fix your hair and wipe your wet eyes, but notice that Jaehyun still has that dangerous look in his eyes.

Jaehyun looks down at your legs dripping with his cum and feels himself getting hot again.

“Hey...” he runs his hands down your body, watching as you tremble and bite your lip.

“Do you want to shake the snow globe again, Princess?”

2K notes · View notes

slytherinwh0re · 3 years

Text

Warnings

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader AU

Warnings: SMUT(18+ minors dni) and swearing

Summary: Where you accidentally break curfew and Draco catches you in the library.

Masterlist

A/N: I forgot how much I love writing smut lmao

You’d been in the library for hours studying for potions, the upcoming exam was worth a lot of your grade so unfortunately you’d spent the greater part of your Saturday hunched over a cauldron in the back of the library. What you hadn’t realized was that it was now past curfew and your common room was all the way across the castle.

“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself; hurriedly gathering your supplies before Filch and the prefects started doing their nightly rounds. The last thing you needed right now was a detention, final year was already kicking your ass.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” While trying to stuff the last of your books in your bag you’d accidentally knocked over the potion you’d been working on. The heavy cauldron couldn’t have been any louder as it dropped to the floor. You quickly cleaned up the mess but it was too late.

“What do we have here?” Of all people Malfoy would be the one to find you, his deep voice carried throughout the empty library as he leaned on the table you’d been sitting at. His arms were crossed and he had that stupid smirk on his stupid handsome face.

Of course you found him attractive, he is Draco Malfoy after all, anyone with functioning eyes knew the boy was the main character of many girls dreams. The blonde looked you up and down before finally setting his stare back on your face waiting for your answer.

“Oh, uhm, hey Malfoy. I was just studying for the potions exam on Monday and lost track of time, now if you’ll excuse me I’ll just be heading back to my dorm now.” You’d hoped he’d understand since you shared the same classs but before you could even get two steps in he was grabbing you wrist and stopping you.

“Not so fast (y/l/n), you’ve broken a rule, and I, as a head boy, am in charge of making sure you get the appropriate punishment.” You watch as his eyes travel down to your legs, butterflies errupt in your tummy under his gaze.

“Please Draco, couldn’t you just give me a warning this one time.” You beg the slytherin as your stare travels to his crossed arms; his forearms on display from when you watched him rollup his sleeves in potions earlier in the day. The veins that lead to his ring clad hands were enough to make a girl weak in the knees.

“I could let you off with a warning,” he starts walking towards you as you walk backwards until you feel the table on the back of your legs, “but it’s gonna cost you.” Your body on fire at the proximity of the blonde.

You knew exactly where this was going but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it. Both his hands land on the table behind you on either side of your body, essentially trapping you in.

“I’ll do anything.” You whisper up at him, a second later his lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily. Your hands find his hair tugging on the back of it as he slips his tongue in your mouth, the moan that leaves his throat already has you rubbing your thighs together.

His lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, surely leaving marks that’ll you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. Draco’s hands begin unbuttoning your shirt, hurriedly pulling it off along with your bra, his long fingers playing with your nipple as he continues the assault on your neck; the moans leaving your mouth sound filthy but you couldn’t care less.

“Get on your knees.” He pulls off the shirt you’d just gotten unbuttoned, watching as you immediately obey and sink down to your knees in front of him. You start working on his pants, when you finally get them unzipped you don’t waste a second on pulling them down, followed by his boxers.

His dick springs up to his stomach, extremely hard and already dripping with precum. You take him in your hand, pumping slowly as you look up at him, a smirk on your face. Once you wrap your lips around him his head falls back, groaning as he grabs your hair.

You take as much of him as possible, using your hand on what you couldn’t fit. The hand in your hair lowers your head further on to him and you gag around his dick, making the boy above you moan. You hollow you cheeks and pick up the pace, making sure to drag your tongue up the base every time you bob your head. You knew he was close but before he could finish he’s pulling you back up to your feet in front of him.

Draco’s lips find yours once again before he reaches under your short skirt, dragging down your soaked panties, and sliding two fingers through your slick folds.

“Do you want this (y/n)?” He pulls away to look at you, both of you breathing hard in anticipation. “Yes.” You’re barely able to get out before he’s turning you around and pushing your face down onto the table.

He flips your skirt over your ass, slapping a hand on both cheeks before sliding all the way in, making both of you moan. Immediately he sets a fast pace, the slapping of skin and your moans were the only sounds in the empty library.

“Always wanted to bend you over a table, these little skirts you wear drive me fucking insane.” Your fingers grip the edge, rocking back onto him to match his thrusts.

“Draco, oh fuck.” He grabbed you hair and started slamming into you even harder than before, his dick feeling impossibly deep as he fucks you into the table.

Suddenly he’s pulling out, flipping you back over and sitting you on the edge so he could push himself back in. You wrap your legs around his waist, the new angle putting you on cloud nine.

You let your hands travel down his toned chest, the pale skin warm against your fingers as you trace his abs. Draco’s hand finds your throat, the cold metal of his rings makes you shiver as you throw your head back, screaming his name on repeat. His other hand rubs circles on your clit and you know you won’t last much longer.

“Go ahead (y/n), I want to feel you cum on my dick.” A few more deep thrust and you’re falling apart, your walls clench around him and your body trembles as you ride your high. Draco isn’t far behind, your name leaves his mouth as he finishes and Merlin knows you’d do anything to hear it again.

“I can’t believe no one heard us.” You say as he laughs, both of you now cleaned up and clothed.

“I cast a silencing charm before we started.” You raise your eyebrows trying to think of when he managed it, not realizing he’d even taken out his wand but thankful nonetheless. “Come on I’ll walk you back to the common room.”

You walk in silence, the events that just happened leaving you a bit confused but greatly satisfied, that was the best sex you’d ever had. When you reach your common room you turn to look at him.

“I’ll see you around (y/n).” He winks before kissing you on the cheek and walking away.

“I’m fucked.” You whisper to yourself.

Tag list: message me to be added/removed!!

@tonksandherpinkhair @fuckingdraco @dracosathenaeum @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lovecatsnotpeople @ccabian @purpleskymalfoy @tonksandhercombatboots @hellounicorn @whattheactualfuckyeet @perfect-storm95 @prongsandprancer @agirlwithpointlessideas @explxsion @tb-ctn @capkatie @dracoxmgg @sydnee-kom-spacekru @slytherinxraven @emomikewazowski @juliannaamonroe @unadulteratedfirellamapanda @t38h @dracoswhore007 @perspectiive @daringvixon @missmercurymoon @weaslcyx

644 notes · View notes

poppywrites41 · 3 years

Text

Why? Eren x Reader

Pairing: Eren Jeager x Fem! Reader

Summary: Y/N and Eren had always been close friends since childhood. Both of their parents had been lost when they were younger and they both joined the survey corps with their friends Mikasa and Armin. Y/N and Eren began to realize feelings for each other after the first time they went to the beach. Eren couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she was playing in the water with her best friend, Sasha. Ever since then, they two would always look after each other and take comfort in each others arms. However, after their first trip to Marley with Yelena, after developing the plan with Zeke, she noticed Eren has been acting different…

Warnings: NSWF, Cursing, mentions of death, SMUT

CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM MANGA. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED. This is a pretty long one. It goes along with the manga but I added my own twist.😊 There will be some time-skips bc I can’t write that much LMAO

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Meeting dismissed. Everyone pack your stuff and head to the ship. We will depart to Marley in 2 hours.” Hange said to the new Levi squad and Yelena’s crew.

Y/N was still in disbelief that they would be taking the fight to Marley, to innocent civilians. She knew that they needed to retrieve Zeke, but she wasn’t too keen on Eren destroying anything. She thinks it would make things worse. Eren on the other hand, was rearing to go. He had a devilish look to his eyes when he stated that he would transform during the ceremony. Y/N almost didn’t recognize the person in front of her. She needed to talk to him before they leave.

“Eren?” Y/N knocked on his door.

“Come in”

Y/N opened to door to see Eren putting on Marleyian soldier clothes. She hadn’t realized how much he physically changed until now. He was taller and well built. His hair grew out and he started to grow a stubble. His eyes. His beautiful green eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle that was there when they were younger.

“Did you have something to tell me or are you just going to stand there like a mute?” his monotonous gruff voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and she played with her sleeves, “I wanted to talk to you about the plan.”

Eren looked at her with his piercing eyes, “You don’t agree with the plan?”

Y/N gulped and shifted on her feet, eyes looking at the floor, “It’s not that I don’t agree with the plan. The plan is to retrieve Zeke, Eren. Do you have to kill civilians in the process? What if they fight back? What if someone we love dies?”

Eren sighed, “Y/N, if you have any doubts, I suggest you leave immediately. We cannot have weak soldiers there to mess things up.”

Y/N’s head snapped up to meet his eyes, her own eyes brimming with tears.

“Eren...you don’t mean tha-”

“I am going to attack when they declare war on us Y/N. That is final. We need to send a message to them. Yelena came up with a plan to lure their titans away and so do I. The soldiers here are well equipped to handle anything so I doubt anyone will die. If they do, they were being careless.”

Y/N stared into his eyes to look for any sort of emotion, but saw nothing. She was scared, she was trembling. “Eren I-”

“You need to stay.”

“What?”

Eren took a few steps to Y/N and caressed her cheek in his palm looking down into her big e/c eyes. “You need to stay. I fear you will get hurt and I cannot have you getting hurt.”

She looks up at him in disbelief. “No Eren, I can do it. Let me come wi-”

“I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” he yells and brings her into a bone crushing hug.

“Eren…” Y/N breaths as she rubs his back, “It’s okay. I-”

“Please stay here...please. I promise I will come back. I need you here. I need you safe.”

“Why? Eren, I can help!”

“You will be helping! If you stay here, it will help me get home faster! I also need someone here to make sure everyone is safe. Please?” Eren looks into her eyes and her see tears. His eyes are full of sadness and fear and it hurt her. She took his head in her hands and wiped his tears.

“Okay,” She say with a sad smile, “I will stay.”

Eren gives a small smile and leans in to place his lips on hers. It has been a while since they have kissed mainly since everyone was busy planning and training. Y/N and Eren haven’t had much time to themselves. Eren leans back and looks at the clock, “We still have some time left before I leave…”

Y/N smirks, “Let’s make the most of it, Jaeger.”

Eren picks her up and lays her on his bed, smothering her neck and collarbone with kisses and love bites. Y/N slides her hands under his shirt, feeling his toned abs and back.

Eren steals her lips as he slowly unbuttons her shirt and caresses her smooth skin.

“I love you.” Y/N says out of breath pulling her hands through his dark hair.

“Yes I know” Eren says. He loves it when she does that to his hair. It relaxes him.

Once her shirt is off, he trails kisses down her bra and begins to suck at the top of her breasts.

“Ah! Eren…” Y/N breaths, tugging at his hair.

He chuckled and reached behind her to unclasp her bra, freeing her beautiful mounds. His hand immediately goes for her right breast, kneading it slowly as he spread kisses on her left. His mouth latched onto her nipple and began to suck. Y/N moaned and writhed on the bed, panting.

“Eren...please…”

Eren used his left hand to travel down to her pants. He unbuttoned them and began to pull them down, leaving her in her black lace underwear. He marvels at the sight before him.

“I’m glad you wore this pair. They’re my favorite.” He smirks and slids his hand underneath to her core, feeling her arousal.

“You’re so wet,” he says, easily sliding his two finger, earning a moan from the woman underneath him, “so perfect.”

“Ngh...Erennnn…” Y/N begins to writhe in pleasure as he begins to quickly slide his fingers in and out of her. Her hips bucking into his palm.

“You’re close? Already?” He asks in disbelief.

“W-We haven’t done a-anything in a while. Ah!” Y/N pants, hands gripping to his shirt.

Eren gives a small smile when she begins to tighten around his fingers. She’s close. He goes faster and listens to her moans and pants.

“E-Eren!! I’m-”

“Cum.” he says in a low voice.

Y/N felt her whole world shake as she felt her body spasm, giving out a long moan. Her whole body shaking. Eren chuckled and gave her a kiss as she slid her underwear down and unbuckled his pants. He had to leave soon so he only pulled them down a bit to free his cock. He gathered her wetness from her orgasm and spread it over his cock. Y/N watched him through lidded eyes, anticipating the feeling of having him inside her.

“Eren,” she whined, “now.”

“Yes, darling.” Eren chuckled and lined himself up to her entrance. He took her in his embrace and pushed himself him, wrapping his arms around her.

“A-Ahhhh Erennn” Y/N whimpered, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Her walls were stretching all over again. Eren gave her a minute to adjust since they haven’t been together like this in a while and began to rock his hips into her gently, relishing in her moans, memorizing everything about her.

“Fuck Y/N…” Eren breathes, “you’re so fucking tight…”

All Y/N can do is moan in pleasure, too out of it to talk. Eren then sits them up and has her bouncing on his cock in his lap. The new position allowed him to go deeper, earning louder moans from the woman. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Eren was close. He hated that he was so close this early, but he knew he needed to leave soon. He dug his face into her neck and breathed in her scent.

“Y/N...I’m close.”

Y/N’s hand went into his hair again, tugging at the long dark strands, “Yes! Yes! Eren please!!”

Eren thrusted himself into her a couple more times. He gave one final thrust as he came deep inside her, groaning as his seed spilt inside her. He stayed there for a few minutes, making sure every last drop made it inside her. Y/N on the other hand, was completely spent. Eren slowly untangled himself from her and gently laid her down on his bed, using his hand to move any stray hairs out of her face.

“Eren…” Y/N says.

“Shhh,” Eren hushes her, pressing a kiss to her lips, “Rest. I will be back in a month. Wait for me.”

Y/N’s eyes close, too tired to do anything from exhaustion. Eren looks down at the sleeping woman, the woman he held so dear to him. He sighed and stood up, grabbed his things and left.

“It had to be done.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Time skip to a month after*

It had been a month since that day and 2 weeks since Y/N found something. She was planning on telling Eren, only to then hear that Eren had been locked up for acting on his own and that her dear best friend, Sasha, had been killed.

“Y/N” Armin said as they all gathered together, “We will talk to Eren and figure something out.”

“Why do you always defend him, Armin?!” Connie yelled.

“Connie...” Mikasa warned.

“No, Mikasa! You cannot defend Eren for what he did! You are doing it because of your Akerman instincts.” Connie looked at us with tears, “I lost my twin...I lost half of me...And do you know what Eren did when he heard Sasha died? That bastard laughed.”

Y/N looked at him in shock, “No...He wouldn’t-”

“Why would he laugh if you all knew everything about him?” Connie pressed.

“Let us talk to Eren. Hopefully Y/N can talk to him.” Armin said.

“What if Eren shares the same goals as Zeke?” Jean asks, “What then.”

“The scouts have medicine that can turn someone into a titan..”

“Armin” Y/N began to tear up, “No...”

“If Eren can no longer be trusted, we need to transform someone we trust into a titan and feed Eren to them.”

“But Eren still has time left!” Y/N cries.

“We know,” Mikasa hugs her, “So that’s why we need to talk to him and figure out his motives to see if he is still on our side.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Time skip to when Eren breaks out*

“We have an emergency!!” An officer barges into the meeting room, gathering everyone’s eyes on him, “Eren Jeager has escaped!”

“What?!” Armin exclaimed, “How?!”

“He used the War Hammer titan,” Hange sighed, “I guess his is going to meet up with the Jeagerists. We need to meet with Nicolo and figure something out”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*At the restaurant*

“NICOLO! Stop it now!” Jean said as he held back the chef.

“She killed Sasha!” the chef cried pointing at Gabi.

“Calm down, we will handle her!” Armin said, “Y/N, Mikasa, let’s take her to another room.”

“I killed your friend. Killing me should be enough. Just don’t hurt Falco.” Gabi said.

“We aren’t going to kill you.” Y/N said.

“You can’t stop yourself from wanting to kill me right?” the little girl asked.

“No,” Armin said, “That’s all you ever talk about huh? Kill, kill, kill. You remind me of a certain someo-”

Armin was interrupted by the door opening to reveal Eren.

Everyone looked at him in shock.

“E-Eren...” Y/N sighed.

“Sit down,” Eren said showing a cut on his hand, “and keep your hands on the table.”

Everyone did as they were told, not wanting to risk and accident. There was a knock on the door.

“We’re leaving.”

“Okay.” Eren called.

“Was that Floch’s voice?” Armin asked, “You came with Floch?”

“Yeah” Eren said, “I wanted to talk to you guys in a quiet setting. We can settle Eldia’s problems without any conflict. Hange and the others will be fine. We’re just moving them.”

“We are the ones who wanted to talk to you,” Armin said, “We just wanted to know what you were thinking Eren.”

“What made you decide on your own to attack Marley.” Y/N said, “If Zeke and Yelena have really gotten you on their side…”

“I’m free.” Eren and said, “Whatever I do, whatever I choose, I do it out of my own free will”

“You met with the Yelena in secret the night of the rail opening right?” Armin asked, “Has this all been your free will since then?”

“That’s right.” Eren said

“You’re being controlled.” Mikasa said.

“Eren..” Y/N began, “You are not the kind of person who would involve innocent civilians and children, even if they live in an enemy state. You’ve cared for and thought about us more than anyone. Haven’t you? You saved us multiple times out of your own kindness right?” Her hand instinctively going down to her stomach.

“I said keep your hands on the table” Eren said sternly. “I hid myself in Liberio and spoke with Zeke brother to brother. I learned a lot then. Zeke knows more than Marley does.”

“Eren-” Armin begins.

“Armin,” Eren said, “You’re still going by and seeing Annie aren’t you? Is that out of your own will or is it Bertolts?”

Armin was taken aback, “what-”

“If memories play a major role in forming who the person is, that means part of you has become Bertolt. A part of an enemy soldiers that feels love for another enemy soldiers influencing a significant part of your judgment. You weren’t soft like this before. You never back to the enemy. Your judgment was always able to lead us to the answer. But every time you open your mouth now, it’s ‘let’s talk’ you’re absolutely useless.”

“Eren…” YN began.

“Armin you’re the one being controlled by the enemy.”

“Eren stop” Mikasa says.

“I learned about the Ackermans there too. The reason you’re strong Mikasa. It turns out the Marleyian scholars still barely know anything about titans but what came about by accident from the Eldian empires fiddling around with the subjects of Ymir during its long history was the Ackerman clan who maintain a human form but in some cases can manifest the power of the Titans. Still the Ackerman clan was designed in order to protect Eldia’s king as a result the instincts and their blood will still activate once they recognize someone as a host. In other words you only cling to me because of your instincts as an Ackerman. You obeyed my order in that moment when you were facing death. Apparently when all of those conditions are met the instincts hidden inside the Ackerman clans blood will awaken. Not only did this heighten your physical abilities to an extreme, you were even given the experience in battlefield accumulated by every past Ackerman by way of a path. All because you happened by chance to trick yourself into believing I was the host you had to protect.”

“You’re wrong.” Y/N said.

Eren turned to her with a glare, “Oh? Am I? How?”

“It wasn’t by chance,” she said, “It was because of you she was able to become strong. Because of you and your kindness.”

“Apparently once an Ackerman awakens they find themselves suffering from headaches. They say this happens out of the true self trying to resist being forced to protect its host. Sound familiar Mikasa? What I’m saying is that the real Mikasa disappeared in that mountain hunt nine years ago leaving only you behind ever faithful to your Ackerman instincts.”

“Eren stop.”

“The clan who lost their true selves created only to follow orders. In other words, slaves.”

“Eren please stop”

“Do you know what I hate the most in this world, anyone who isn’t free. That, or cattle. Just looking at the made me so angry. Now I finally understand why. I couldn’t stand to look at it and doubting slave who only ever follow orders. Ever since I was a kid I have always hated you.”

“STOP IT!” YN slapped Eren but he slammed her to the ground. “Stay Y/N”

Armin threw himself across the table and began to throw punches but Eren deflected them with ease.

“Armin we’ve never fought before, huh? Do you know why that is? It’s because there’s no way you could even put up a fight against me.” Eren slammed Armin into the ground and began stomping on him.

He suddenly stopped when a pair of arms wrapped around his torso.

“Please... stop.” Y/N said crying.

Eren looked into her eyes, “I will stop if you tell me where Zeke is. Or you can just come with us.”

He signaled the guards to pick up Armin.

“And what is it you even wanted to say?” Armin coughed, “Is that the freedom you wanted? The freedom to hurt all of us? Tell me who’s the real slave to a piece of shit?”

Eren gritted his teeth, “Who are you calling a slave? Let’s go.”

That night they went to the Shiganshina district. Eren had Y/N, Mikasa, and Armin thrown in a cell while he and his group made a plan to meet up with Zeke.

“Why…” Y/N cried as tears flowed down her cheeks, “Why would he do this?”

“I don’t know.” Armin said.

Y/N got up from her chair to lay down, but collapsed due to the pain in her stomach. She groaned in pain, clutching herself.

“Y/N!!” Jean and Mikasa cried out and rushed to help her up.

“Are you alright?” Armin asked.

“I think so…” Y/N said with tears, “But I am not sure about it…”

“...It?” Armin questions.

“I was planning to tell Eren when he got back…” Y/N said, her whole body shaking, “But he’s not the same person, I don’t know what he would do to me if he found out…”

“Found out what?” Connie asked.

“That...I’m…” Y/N shakes uncontrollably, “p-pregnant.”

“What?!”

Armin hold Y/N closer, “And that bastard floored you earlier. That can’t be good.”

“HEY!!” Jean yells through the halls, “We need a doctor immediately!! Please!!”

“Someone please!! Get a doctor!!” Mikasa screams.

“Hold on, Y/N!” Armin rubs her shoulder, “We will get you help! Just hold on. Maybe if Eren knows, he will-”

“No!” Y/N cries, “He cannot know. He must not know!”

“I can’t know what?”

Everyone gasped at the familiar voice. Eren.

There was complete silence and that ticked Eren off.

“What. Can’t. I. Know.” He annunciates. Y/N winces.

“Eren,” Mikasa starts, “Y/N is hurt. You went too hard on her.”

Eren skeptically looked at Mikasa then at Y/N. He saw how red, sweaty and pained she was.

“Are you so weak that you couldn’t handle a shove? I didn’t even do it that hard.” He chuckled.

“Eren…” Jean growled stalking towards the bars. He reached through and grabbed Eren’s shirt, “If you still have feelings for her, you will get her help.”

“Jean…” Y/N whimpers, catching Eren’s attention, “Don’t.”

Eren laughed, “You care about him don’t you Y/n? Would you hate me if I hurt him?”

“P-please don’t Eren,” Y/N said, “He’s my friend, but you are special to me.”

“Then you wouldn’t have a problem joining my cause. If I’m so special to you.”

Y/N gets up with the help of Mikasa, still clutching her stomach, “Not if it means hurting my friends.”

Eren eyes her clutching her stomach but doesn’t move, “How will I know you are not tricking me to open this cell and you all attack me?”

“Eren” Armin starts, “You have three titans and could kill us at any moment. However, Y/N, our friend, is in serious pain. Why would we risk her safety to escape from you?”

“We will go to the opposite side of the cell.” Mikasa said.

Eren seemed to be lost in thought but hearing Y/N groan in pain brings him back to reality.

“Fine,” He said, “I will take her to get help. But if any of you try anything, I will not hesitate to hurt you.”

“Thank you…” Connie breathed.

Eren took the keys to the cell out of his pocket and unlocked the cell door, “Move.”

Everyone stepped back, leaving Y/N by herself. Eren opened the door and roughly grabbed her, Y/N making her wince. “Y/N!” Mikasa flinched, causing Eren’s head to snap up, his titan marks showing up on his skin. “I’m fine! It’s okay.” Y/N said as Eren quickly dragged her out, looking back at her friends in the cell with a sad smile.

Eren walked into the conference room gathering the Jeagerists attention, “I need a doctor.” he said in a monotonous voice.

“Eren!” Floch said, “Why is Y/N out of her cell?”

“Get a doctor. Now.” Eren ordered. Everyone went out in search of a doctor while Eren and Y/N waited in an unoccupied office. Soon, a man was led in by a soldier.

“Mr. Jeager,” the man greeted, “My name is Dr. Kim, I was told you are in need of a doctor?”

“Yes. Apparently this woman is hurting in her stomach.” Y/N flinched when Eren referred to her as a woman and not by name.

“Alright. I will take a look at her and will grab you if there is anything wrong.” Dr. Kim said. Eren nodded and left.

Y/N gave a sigh of relief when Eren left, which went unnoticed by the doctor. “So,” he began with a warm smile, “What seems to be the issue?”

“Please don’t tell him anything.” Y/N whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“Please...and do not condemn him. I am pregnant with his child. He does not know. My friends and I tried to confront him, which ended up in him attacking us. Hurting me. He cannot know. But I need to know if the baby is fine.”

The doctor looks shocked. “You must tell hi-”

“No! Not right now. Please doctor. This must stay between us.”

The doctor gave a long sigh and nodded, “Alright. But I need you to take your shirt off so that I may check.”

Y/N took off her shirt, and laid down on the bed. The doctor began to feel around her lower stomach area on her very small bump.

“You have some bruising, but I believe it is alright. Have you bled at all since the incident?” He asked. Y/N shook her head and the doctor nodded.

“Well then, I believe everything is alright. Please try to take it easy. Maybe stay away from him for a while.” Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face, “Thank you.” The doctor smiled and walked out.

The doctor walked to the other room where Eren was.

“Well?” he asked while looking out the window.

“She has bruising on her abdomen, but overall she is fine. I suggest you be careful with her.”

Eren was caught off guard by that last sentence and looked at the doctor.

“Well,” The doctor said, “I must get going. I still have many patients to attend to.”

Eren gets up and shakes the doctor’s hands, “Of course. Thank you.”

When the doctor left, Eren went to the office where Y/N was. He slammed open the door to see Y/N laying on the bed with her hand on her stomach, startling her.

“So you lied.” Eren said.

“What?” she said.

Eren walked to her and stood next to the bed, looking into her eyes with hatred, “You made it sound like something bad was happening, but you just had a few bruises. You lied to me. Did you do it to distract me from them escaping?”

“Wha-Eren! I wasn’t lying!” Y/N said.

“What are you hiding?” Eren asked.

Y/N’s eyes widened slowly sitting up, “Hiding?”

“You’re hiding something Y/N. What is it?” Eren said darkly.

“I’m not hiding anything Eren! You’re scaring me!” Y/N cries backing into the wall.

Eren slowly climbs onto the bed towards her, “You called a doctor for bruising. BRUISING. On your stomach. Isn’t that suspicious?”

“Eren-”

“I will ask you again. What. Are. You. Hiding?” He ordered. His face centimeters from hers.

“Nothing...I’m not hiding anyth-AH” Eren cut her off by roughly grabbing her and slamming her back onto the bed.

“Eren!” She cried, “Stop it! Please!”

“I will figure it out. What are you hiding…” Eren holds her hands above her head with one hand and with his other, he ripped her shirt off.

“Stop it Eren! Please stop!” Y/N cried trying to kick him off, “No! Don’t!”

But it was too late. Eren saw the bruises that littered her lower stomach…and the tiny bump.

At that moment, Eren couldn’t hear Y/N’s cries, only his heartbeat. Y/N kept crying for him to get off and to not hurt her, shaking like a leaf.

“How long…” Eren’s voice silenced her, “How long?”

“A-A m-month. Eren p-please don’t-”

“You weren’t going to tell me.”

“E-Eren-”

“You WEREN’T going to tell me!”

“YOU’RE NOT THE SAME PERSON!” Y/N screams.

She can feel Eren shaking with anger on top of her, his hold tightening around her wrists.

“Ngh! Eren! Stop it! Eren!” She cried.

“Why…” He asks with a shaky breath, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“You aren’t yourself. Y-You have been acting on your own. Jeopardizing everyone’s safety. My best friend was killed because of you...and...and you LAUGHED!!”

Her scream caught Eren off-guard which allowed her to push him off onto his back and start punching him.

“Why did you laugh Eren?! WHY? Why did you laugh at Sasha’s death?! Did she not mean anything to you!? WHY EREN?”

Eren laid completely still, letting her land her punches on him, he would heal anyways.

“Why are you helping Zeke?! Why are you hurting us?! Armin?? Mikasa?? Why are you hurting me??” Y/N’s began to tire and her head began to hurt she got one last punch to his face before collapsing on his chest, crying.

“Why did you turn against us??” she sobbed digging her nails into his skin through his shirt, “What happened to you?”

“I am still me-”

“No you’re not.”

“I am doing what I need to do to to save us.”

“We can find a different way.”

“There is no other way, Y/N. I need to get to Zeke. I need to prevent him from keeping Eldians from having children!”

Y/N looked up at him in shock, “What?”

“I am not going with Zeke’s plan all the way Y/N. He want me to use the Founding Titans power to make all Eldians unable to have children. But I won’t let that happen, I will connect with him and use the Founding Titan to start the Rumbling to destroy the Marlayians.”

“But why hurt us?”

“It’s best if not everyone knows what’s going on so Zeke does not get suspicious.”

He brings her face to his and kisses her lips.

“But Eren. Thousands of innocent lives will die…”

“But not everyone on Paradis,” he says trailing kisses down to her breasts, “Not you. Not the baby.”

Y/N clutches Eren’s shirt as he sucks on her nipples, “You can save everyone Eren. All this bloodshed isn’t the answer.”

“Let’s not talk about this.” He says as he trails his hand into her pants, finding her wet core. “Let me love you.”

Y/N dug her nails into his skin, whimpering as he brought her to her high with his digits.

“Erennnnnnn” She cries out in ecstasy, panting like a dog. Eren looks at her with gentle eyes. The woman he loves underneath him, carrying his future. Seeing her tiny bump awoke something in him. He suddenly rid himself of his clothes, ripped off her pants and underwear and quickly slid his cock into her heat.

“Eren!” Y/N cried out, “Be careful! I’m still sensitive there…”

Eren gives her a long passionate kiss as he begins to thrust his hips into hers, earning beautiful moans from her.

Y/N had never felt such pleasure before, Eren’s cock was hitting all the right places in her, bringing her closer to another orgasm.

“E-Eren I’m c-close” She panted.

Eren then grabbed her and flipped her on her hand and knees, pressing her head onto the soft pillow under her. He loved this position. He loved to look at her smooth back, the way her hair would be all over the place and how her big e/c eyes would look back to meet his. She was like a goddess. He began to feel her walls tighten around him, a tell sign that she was closs. He leaned over her as he went harder against her hips, earning himself louder moans, kissing her nape. His hand slithered under to to rub her clit, bringing her closer to her high.

“Nghh E-Eren! P-Please don’t stop!!” She cried.

“Cum for me Y/N.”

And she did. Her body went limp. Eren had to hold her up to that he could finish, spilling his seed into her. Eren wasn’t sure if it was physical or emotional exhaustion, but he collapsed right next to Y/N, pulling her into his arms, laying a hand on the tiny bump. Y/N on any day would love it when Eren spooned with her after sex, but she did not want to stay with him any longer. When she tried to get up, Eren’s hold on her tightened.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Eren, we can’t keep this up.”

“Please…” She stiffened as she felt wetness on her skin. Tears. “Let me hold you.”

She didn’t say anything more, but she laid back down in his hold and relaxed.

“I love you, Y/N”

Y/N looks up at Eren with teary eyes, “Eren…”

“I am doing this to save you.”

“Eren, please…”

“Please let’s not talk about this. Let me hold you both for now.”

Y/N stiffens in his arms.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about Sasha. I will kill the brat who killed her-”

“No. You will not kill a child for revenge. She knows what she did and she regrets it. Leave her be.”

“Y/N-”

“Please... Just hold us.”

Eren nods and flips you in his arms to face him.

“I hate you.” Y/N cries as she digs her face into his chest inhaling his scent.

“I know.”

“We will fight you.”

“I know.”

“We will fight to kill you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

WOW! This is my first fic that I’ve ever posted on here! I’m sorry if there are some errors, but I hope you guys love it and my little twist on the story!💜

#eren jeager smut #eren yaegar #eren aot #snk eren #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #aot manga #eren yeager smut #older eren #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jeager x reader smut #eren yeager x reader smut

503 notes · View notes

hnychn · 3 years

Text

KARASUNO’S MANAGER !!

SYPNOSIS — it’s a new year and the karasuno team decides to throw a new years party in the school gym

WARNINGS — tooth rotting fluff <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE — none of this is realistic but shut up and let me live laugh and love with the idea it’s real

⇀ HAPPY NEW YEARS BABESS

⇀ so it all started out when noya and tanaka came up with the brilliant idea to throw a new years party

⇀ and since canonically, everyone in haikyuu are losers, everyone agreed 😀

⇀ of course you invited your boo kenma 😼 and the nekoma team

⇀ and kuroo invited the fukurodani team since bokuto heard about the party somehow

⇀ the party is held in the gym, it's byoc

⇀ "bring your own cups"

⇀ cause y'all broke broke 😭😭✋🏼

⇀ kidding . . . about the cup part, y'all are broke though . . .

⇀ anyways, so the team put you in charge of getting the drinks

⇀ . . . but they never specified non-alcoholic 😼

⇀ so you, being the six foot seven giant you were, got some alcohol

⇀ it was surprisingly easy

⇀ like the guy behind the counter didn't even ask you for an ID or anything and he probably assumed you were 21+ because of your features 🤡

⇀ i mean you do be chiselled by the gods themselves 🤪🥴

⇀ not me simping over you 🤺

⇀ so the party is about to start and you come in with literal bottle of alcohol like fUCKING JACK DANIEL'S AND WHISKEY AND RUM AND ALL THAT SHIT

⇀ and when daichi saw you with all the paper bags filled with bottles of alcohol he just-

⇀ . . . 🧍🏽‍♀️

⇀ "y/n. . ."

⇀ "yes? 🤠"

⇀ "why. . .why do you have alcohol?"

⇀ "you said to get drinks. ."

⇀ "i mEANT PUNCH-"

⇀ all daichi wanted to do was punch you 🏌️🏽‍♀️

⇀ LMAO BUT NOYA AND TANAKA TURNT UP WITH THE ALCOHOL

⇀ they poured that shit into those punch bowls? ya know? the ones in those cliche highschool movies

⇀ they got red solo cups and everything 🔫

⇀ anyways, so people start showing up and daichi panics because no sir, these minors aren't getting drink on his watch, but oops-

⇀ kiyoko locked him in the shortage closet 👁

⇀ "i'll let you out in 20 minutes"

⇀ because babes knew that's all it'll take for everyone to be blackout drunk

⇀ and she was right 💅🏽

⇀ fifteen minutes into the party, noya, tanaka, yamamoto, lev and a bunch of first years are drunk drunk.

⇀ suga, kuroo, asahi, and ennoshita are also drunk but like they're the chill typa drunk y'know?

⇀ they playing a game of uno with normal playing cards 🧍🏽‍♀️

⇀ kenma . . . doesn't want to be there BLESS HIM LMAO-

⇀ he's sitting in the corner, red solo cup in hand because kuroo took his pspspsp and won't give it back, even if he is drunk

⇀ and you- good god

⇀ YOU. ARE. D R U N K.

⇀ i'm talking the embarrassing type of drunk

⇀ you're dancing on one of the volleyball poles like a fucking stripper and bokuto is throwing napkins at you like they're ones please- 🔫

⇀ kenma is just in the corner staring like 🐚🌝 hello yes, officer? imma need animal control here asap.

⇀ LIKE DJFJD WTF IS MY BF DOINGG

⇀ he's embarrassed for you 😔✋🏼

⇀ but in the corner of your eye you see kenma sitting all alone so you go over to him, alcohol nearly spilling over the side of your red solo cup

⇀ "what're you doin all alone here, kitten?"

⇀ kenma crinkles his nose because you smell like alcohol, but he just shrugs

⇀ he says something but you can't hear him over he loud music, so you lean closer but you end up spilling your drink all over your shirt and you just

⇀ "ew it's sticky . . . i guess I'll just take it off"

⇀ SO YOU DO

⇀ IN A CROWDED ROOM

⇀ OF DRUNK POSSIBLY NOT STRAIGHT MEN

⇀ and holy fuck-

⇀ how knew you were so foine 🥴🥴

kenma's eyes widen when you suddenly pull off your shirt, your chest still slightly damp from the drink spilling on you. he could feel heat rushing to his face the longer he stared. kenma wanted to look away, he really did, but it was something about the way you rubbed your hands over your abs and chest to wipe off the moisture and the way you looked down with hooded eyes that had him entranced. he couldn't look away, and by the sight of the other people in the room also staring at you with no shame, they couldn't either.

despite being drunk, you could tell people were staring and it filled you with a sort of confidence you only got in the privacy of your room with kenma. speaking of kenma, he wasn't fairing any better. his head was turned to the side to look away, but his eyes betrayed him and stayed focused on your chest.

you smirked.

kenma gasped as you suddenly leaned forward, your hand slamming onto the wall next to him and the other pushing him by the hip, your cold fingers slithering up his shirt and sending chills up his spine. your breathe was warm next to his ear and kenma's blush intensified.

"see something you like, kitten?"

kenma's breathing began to get heavier the longer you whispered in his ear, his chest and pants tightening. kenma refused to look up, knowing half of the people in the gym were staring, but he would by lying if he said it didn't turn him on more than he already was.

your stopped whispering in kenma's ear and began trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, leaving marks behind. kenma had to bite his bottom lip to stop noises from escaping his mouth, but his restraint was limited due to the small amount of alcohol in his system.

your fingers traveled further up his shirt and caressed his waist, pulling him closer to you. pulling away from his neck, you turned to his lips, sucking and biting on them as if it would be the last time you would be able to. kenma's neck was littered with hickies that, even in the darkness of the gym, were extremely visible.

but before things could go any further, you were ripped away from kenma by a fuming daichi, "first you bring alcohol and get everyone drunk, then you try to fuck your boyfriend in the middle of the gym? i'm gonna kill you, y/n."

⇀ you were put on daichi watch for the rest of the night 😔🔫

⇀ but by the time 11 rolled around, you were a bit sober so i guess that's good

⇀ everyone gathered into he middle of the gym and counted down until midnight

⇀ kiyoko and yachi had hung some of those colour changing lights and gave the room some amazing vibes

⇀ and kenma was standing next to you, your arm slung over his shoulder as the lights hit his face perfectly and outlined every feature of his beautifully

⇀ you smiled down at him

"it's already 2021, huh?"

kenma looked up at you and immediately looked away when he saw that you were already looking at him. even after months of dating and nights spent in each other's embrace, he still got nervous when you looked at him the way you were right now.

eyes so full of love and lips pulled into a satisfied smile.

"yeah. . . i guess. . ."

you laughed and pulled him closer to your side, kenma stumbled a bit and grasped onto the new shirt you put on. it was a spare that you left behind in the clubroom one day.

"c'mon kenma! new year, new possibilities! what are your new years resolutions?"

kenma shrugged, burying his head deeper into your side, "i don't have any."

5 . . .

you smiled, "really?"

you looked back up at the digital clock kiyoko hung up on the wall just for new years, your smile never faltering. kenma loved that about you, your ability to smile no matter what. no matter the circumstances.

4 . . .

"what about you?" kenma asked, a small bubble of guilt building in his chest for not answering how he thought you wanted.

you looked down at him with the same lovesick eyes and satisfied smile, kenma felt his heart stop, "me?"

you looked back up at the clock, "hmm. . ."

3 . . .

"i think. . . " you drew out, a playful smile on your face when kenma pouted at your long answer. he slapped your chest when you laughed at him.

2 . . .

"i think," you tugged kenma in front of you and rested your chin on his head, a lazy smile drawn on your face as everyone else yelled about, excited for the new year.

1 . . .

"i think i have everything i could ever want right here."

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!

kenma gasped as you suddenly turned him around, lifting his face by the chin. everyone around you cheered as the clock hit 12 and it was now January 1, 2021.

kenma's heart pounded when he saw the same old lazy smirk on your face and the same old lovesick look in your eyes; but no matter how many times he's seen it, he would always feel the butterflies fluttering in hit stomach.

"happy new years, kenma." you whispered as you pulled him into a kiss.

what a way to start the new years.

⇀ everything after that was a blur

⇀ the party amping up as a way to start the new years and you were sure even daichi had a cup full of some unholy concoction of alcohol kiyoko made for him

⇀ when you woke up, you were in bed, kenma laying a your side.

⇀ with close on, y'nasties 👁

⇀ your head felt like it was going to explode and your stomach turned in ways it shouldn't

⇀ but you were too lazy to get outta bed

⇀ me 🤡

⇀ so you just pulled kenma closer and went back to sleep

⇀ dreaming of a happy future with the man in your arms

taglist:: @stickystrawberrysyrup @420-uwu @nvthvlyy @kaiwai @goshizaki-jun @thetrash-mammal @dprhvn @bakuhore

a/n :: i'll add the read more thing in the morning, i gotta start getting dressed for the new year party. this was kinda rushed too so sorry if it's a bit jumbled or something

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x manager #haikyuu x male reader #karasuno's male manager #karasuno x male manager #karasuno manager #haikyuu manager #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#kenma x male reader #kenma x reader

518 notes · View notes

imagines-r-s · 3 years

Text

sticking it - j. farabee

chapter 6

a/n: now you’ll all see why i said be excited for ch. 6 lmao. (also, with ch. 5 not showing up in the tags for a minute, some might not have seen it, so i’ll link it here) but anyways, this chapter was difficult to write bc i’m not used to writing anything but angst lmao. and huge shoutout to my baby gracie for helping me out with this chapter. please enjoy and i’d love to hear feedback

also, like i told an anon, this is in memory of bee’s hair :(( (he still looks good with the new hair, don’t get me wrong)

taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland @lovenhlboys @sortagaysortahigh @hockey-racing-fubol @oopsiedoopsie23 @iwantahockeyhimbo @dreamsndior

warnings: (2) your mom jokes, jealous!joel?, once again simp nation for the both of them, swearing (it’s a problem ngl), idiocy

sticking it masterlist

wc: 4.1k

(gif not mine)

When you told Marcus and Michelle that you had to be out for a month, they advised you to only come to the gym three times a week for two hours for the first two weeks and you’d figure out a plan for the two weeks after, that way you could take a much needed break out of the gym. The thing stressing you out the most was gym and they obviously realized it, so they were hopeful it would give you a chance to breathe.

You planned to go to the gym Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays from 6-8am and then you would spend the rest of your day at home doing whatever you needed to do that day. The first Monday you spent those two hours doing ab workouts and helping the other girls around the gym, then you went home and stayed in your room for the rest of the day. You put your phone on do not disturb, so no one heard from you, which caused Kevin to come to your apartment to make sure you were okay.

Tuesday played out the exact same way, early practice, then going home and staying in bed, and Kevin coming to make sure you were alright. Kevin even invited you to come out with him and some of the boys, which you politely declined saying they should have their time together. Wednesday, you simply stayed in bed, choosing to actually keep your phone on today, you were just tired and felt drained from everything going on right now that you couldn’t really muster up the energy to talk to anyone.

Wednesday night, as you were rewatching Marvel movies, your phone started ringing with a call from Ryanne. Quickly answering it, “hey Ry.”

“Hey babes, how’re you doing?”

“I’ve been better, I’ve also been worse, so.”

“Me and Claude were wondering if you’d want to come over and hang out with us and Gav for some of the day, we’ll provide food and such, but we miss you, babe. So, we figured we’d ask while you have a chance.”

In reality, Ryanne had heard from Claude that you wouldn’t be able to do extensive training for at least a month. She might not have known much about gymnastics, but she knew you well enough to know that you were always constantly training - she was well aware that if that ever got taken from Claude that he would be devastated if he was out for that long and with two weeks to prepare for a big game.

She had checked in to see how you were with Kevin one day after practice and when he mentioned everything that was going on, she was worried about you. She knew that she likely wouldn’t be able to help much, but she did know that there was one part of the equation she could help. Knowing that she already had a plan to have a send off party before the boys went on a roadie and also knowing that everyone on the team would be there, she somehow conveniently planned to invite you over a few hours before it started.

“Oh, yeah, I’d love to, honestly. What time do you want me over?”

“Anytime after three is fine. I’ll see you then, hun. Oh, and wear something cute.”

“Why exactly?”

“Just do it,” Ryanne said, not having time to think of an excuse, “bye.”

As you were about to say something else, the ring that told you she had hung up rang out.

…..

Joel wasn’t doing as good as he wanted to be recently and with an upcoming roadie, he knew he needed to spend more time on the ice before the game. Having asked a few of the guys to work with him during an unscheduled morning skate, he was able to work on what he needed to.

“Wait, so she’s out how long?” Joel overheard Travis ask Kevin as he made his way into the locker room.

“Like four weeks, but two weeks with the brace and basically no training, then two weeks with athletic tape on her knee and no hard landings. But she’ll only have two weeks before Championships, so she's not feeling too great about it. Plus, she has to use her brace and crutches again and she didn’t enjoy that the first time,” Kevin replied.

“Is she going to be okay?” Joel hadn’t meant to ask his question aloud, but as soon as Kevin heard his voice a smile grew on his face.

“Yeah, Lover Boy, she’ll be fine. She hasn’t really been up to do anything recently, but other than that I think she’ll be okay. She has to use her crutches again, which is honestly very entertaining,” Kevin stated before turning to leave the locker room, turning right as he got to the doorway, “random question, are you planning on going to G’s for the send off party tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just wondering,” and with that Kevin was gone, leaving a confused Joel behind.

Kevin knew that you had a lot on your plate right now and that you wouldn’t want to go to anyone about your problems. He also knew that the both you and Joel, were simply too stubborn to fix the problem going on between you on your own, hence why he had mentioned something to Ryanne. He knew that Ryanne would jump at the chance to be able to help you feel better and as soon as she mentioned the party set-up idea, he was in. The plan was then mentioned to most of the team, knowing that the help of many was needed in order to help the two idiots.

…..

After sending Kevin a quick text that you were leaving, you left your apartment and made your way to Ryanne and Claude’s house. Gently knocking on the door, you smiled when Ryanne opened the door, “awe, babe, I’m so happy you’re here, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too. Not to be rude, but where is the tiny human?” you asked, looking past Ryanne to see Gavin walking towards you, “hi, bub. Oh my god, you’re getting so big.”

“Well if you came around more often, you’d get to see him more,” Ryanne mumbled, watching you play with the boy in front of you.

“I heard that,” you said, in a sing-song voice.

“You were supposed to,” she replied, mocking your tone, “anyways, Claude is on his way back from the store, so he’ll be here soon, but I haven’t talked to you in forever, how’s everything? How’s gym?”

“Oh, well. I’ve been better, this last meet definitely wasn’t all that great and not being able to train doesn’t really help my case either, but I’m making the most of it,” you said, shrugging.

“And you’re actually having to listen to Adrian this time around?” she said, pointedly, causing you to chuckle.

“Yeah, I have to actually listen to Adrian this time,” you smiled, “I hate that I have to actually wear my knee brace, though. And I have to use crutches. Can you believe that?”

“Considering it’s you, I’m more shocked that you’re actually using them.”

“Ry, shh, let’s not call me out too much today,” you replied.

It wasn’t too long before you heard the front door open, Claude walking in a few seconds later, “awe, it’s my favorite babysitter. Come on, babe, let’s leave while we can.”

“Haha, I almost forgot how funny you are, G,” you said, sarcastically.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. You know what would be nice though?”

“What?”

“Helping me put the groceries up,” he said, smiling sweetly causing you to groan.

“Are chores and babysitting all I’m good for to you?”

“Well,” he looked up to the ceiling, as if he were thinking for another answer,”hm, nothing comes to mind, y/n/n.”

“Oh, that was mean,” Ryanne said, playfully elbowing Claude.

“Thank-”

“She’ll never babysit again if we’re mean to her,” Ryanne smirked.

“Oh, wow, I see how it is, don’t worry,” you said, the three of you laughing.

As the three of you were setting out groceries - you mostly sitting on the kitchen island, taking things out of the bag - the three of you caught up. Claude talking about his hopes for these next few games, Ryanne talking about how Gavin was doing - not missing the few times Gav ran through the kitchen -, and you talking about whatever you could.

“Ok, so we haven’t brought this up yet, but I was just wondering if you had any idea what’s going on with Beezer? I know you guys had gotten closer recently and he’s just not himself, so I’m asking if you know anything,” Claude asked, closing the fridge before turning back to you. Both him and Ryanne had a pretty good idea of what happened, but if they were missing something, they wanted to know.

“Oh, um, well, about that one,” you sighed, gathering your thoughts, “me and him kinda haven’t talked since I told him I only wanted to be friends.”

“Ok, but from the looks of it, it looked like both of you wanted to be more than friends?”

“Yeah, but, there’s a lot more to it, you know.”

“No, actually, I’m a tad bit lost, y/n/n.”

“Look, I can’t have any distractions right now and I was worried about it affecting gymnastics, so I told him I only want to be friends.”

“That’s dumb,” Claude replied, quickly.

“Thank you, many people have mentioned that.”

“He has no place to talk in a situation like this,” Ryanne finally spoke up, causing you to look between the pair confused, “when his life was just hockey, hockey, and hockey, nothing could fill those spots. So, when our relationship was first starting he did the same thing to me that you’re doing to Bee.”

“This was supposed to be a philosophical moment and you messed it up,” Claude replied.

“I didn’t mess it up, you’re just mad because you basically called yourself dumb. But pushing him away isn’t a smart option and it just hurts both of you in the process,” Ryanne said before walking back to where Gavin was.

“Look, I know you said you didn’t want distractions, but this seems to be having a worse effect on you than you hoped. From the looks of it, when you started pushing him away, it affected your performance. Just pointing that out for you.”

“Yeah, I know. You didn’t have to point it out, you know.”

“Yeah, but you would have continued to ignore the obvious fact that you were just scared of a relationship in general,” he shrugged.

“I don’t even know how to talk to him about it or at least how to start the conversation.”

“Well, lucky for you,” he looked down to check his watch, “the guys are all coming over in like 10 minutes, so you’ll see him then.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a send off party for the roadie this weekend, why do you think we got so many groceries?” and with that he left you in the kitchen by yourself.

…..

Joel sat in the backseat of Kevin’s car, Nolan in the passenger seat, as they made their way to G’s house. By the time they got there, most of the guys had already gotten there, seeing a few familiar cars in the driveway, but one stood out in particular. He knew that it was yours from some of the times he had seen you driving, “what’s y/n/n doing here?”

Nolan and Kevin both chuckled at that, “she came over here earlier to watch Gavin, I think,” Kevin said.

“Oh, cool,” Joel replied, attempting to sound nonchalant as possible

“Don’t try to act like you’re not freaking out. You aren’t slick, dude,” Nolan added, shaking his head, “you two better talk, too. Because everyone is tired of the two of you being idiots and not talking shit out.”

“We’re not idiots.”

“You are,” the other two said in unison. Joel didn’t try to argue as he followed the pair inside their captain’s house.

As soon as he entered the house, he took note that almost all the team was here, most of the team was outside, but he immediately found you sitting on one of the barstools with Gavin sitting on your lap as you talked with Ryanne. “Go talk to her,” Nolan whispered, causing him to jump.

“God, Pat. What the fuck?” Joel said turning around.

“I said what I said. You’ll have to talk at some point, might as well just do it. Plus, she’s on crutches, so like, if she wants to run away it will take her a while.”

“Um, that’s- I mean, that’s valid, but-”

“At some point today, you should talk to her. I obviously can’t make you and it’s up to you, but I think it would help fix things,” Nolan said, shrugging.

“Yeah, I know, I know. I plan on it.”

You and Ryanne had stayed inside with Gav since the boys were grilling outside, so when Nolan, Kevin, and Joel walked in, you were one of the first people to notice. Kevin made his way over to you almost as soon as he came in, “so, you enjoying the party?”

“Considering I didn’t know it was happening, sure I’m having a great time, Kev.”

“Well, I guess it’s a surprise party then,” you quickly shot him a glare, “surprise.”

As you heard the back door open, you looked up to see Joel already looking at you, shooting you a quick smile as he followed his teammate to go outside. “I swear, if all you guys do tonight is spare glances at each other and don’t talk, I’m going to lose it,” Ryanne said from beside you.

“I think everyone will, to be honest,” Kevin added, “well, I’m going outside. If you need any help, just let me know.”

The boys had a few different plans in place to get the two of you to talk; conveniently sending Joel in to help while you were inside, telling Joel to go help out inside, asking Joel to get Gavin, and as a last resort, make Joel jealous.

When everyone had been done eating, Claude asked some of the younger guys to help him clean up and bring out the cooler with drinks that was still inside. Joel had somehow conveniently avoided going inside while helping and when he did, he went straight to the kitchen and right back out. He wasn’t wanting to avoid you all night, but he didn’t know what to do. Shortly after, Claude had asked Joel to go in and get Gavin, somehow right as you had left Gavin with Ryanne, which also ruined that plan.

Ryanne knew that it would be suspicious if they kept trying those same plans. So instead, she basically forced you to go outside with her. She helped you get outside, Kevin shooting up from his chair to help you get down the stairs of the deck, “you don’t have to help me out, Kev.”

“Knowing you, you would trip and break something. You’re already hurt enough,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes. As Kevin looked up, he didn’t miss the way Joel lit up as he saw you, “hey, your boy is looking over here.”

Looking up, your eyes once again met his, to which you sent him a light smile, “yeah, he’s been watching me since I stepped out here.”

“y/n/n, you would only know that if you were looking at him, too.”

“Yeah, I never said that I wasn’t though.”

“You know, it’s obvious the two of you aren’t mad at each other or anything like that. So, why the fuck haven’t you talked yet?”

“Oh, um. Words are hard,” you said, walking away towards Travis and Nolan on your crutches.

“You’re literally on crutches, you aren’t moving that fast.”

“You know who else isn’t moving that fast?”

“y/n. I swear, if this is another your-”

“Your mom,” you yelled back to him.

“What is up with you and making your mom jokes?” Nolan asked as you got closer to them.

“They’re funny?”

“y/n/n just has the sense of humor of a middle school boy, that’s why her and Beezer got along so well,” Travis added, helping you move your crutches so you could sit down at the table they were at, “how are the crutches?”

“How’s your mom?” you laughed, causing the two of them to groan, “nah, they’re not fun. In any way shape or form.”

As you were talking to Nolan and Teeks, Kevin and Ryanne realized that none of the plans they had tried were working. Both of them knew that the only plan that would probably work was to make Joel jealous, so Kevin texted Carter, Morgan, Nolan, and Teeks to let them know that was the plan that they were going with.

“y/n looks really good today,” Carter said, causing Joel to spit out his drink.

“Better watch yourself, Hartsy,” Joel replied, shooting a glare towards his friend.

“I was just being honest, she really does. There’s nothing going on between you guys anymore, right?” Carter watched as Joel visibly tensed at the mention of what was happening between the two of you, knowing that the plan was working he continued, “I mean, if nothings going on between you two, then she’s single, right?”

“Well, I mean-” Joel stuttered out, “we haven’t talked in a while, but that doesn’t mean-”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Carter said, making his way over to the table you were at, causing Nolan and TK to chuckle as they saw Joel’s face drop, “hey, y/n/n.”

“Hey, Hartsy, it’s been a minute. How is everything?” you smiled. You kept talking to the group around you for a while, not noticing the way Joel was becoming visibly angry. He didn’t want to seem jealous, but he assumed that Carter had been flirting with you this whole time, so he made the executive decision to talk to you now.

Since your back was facing him, you didn’t see him coming, but the three boys around you did, only trying to hide their smiles since the plan was actually working. “Hey y/n, can we talk?” he asked.

You turned around to finally face the boy you had been avoiding, “yeah, hold on a sec.” As you continued some of your conversation, Joel was getting more and more irritated, mostly because Carter was sending looks his way that he couldn’t exactly read. Joel, being the impatient person he was, pulled the chair you were sitting at away from the table, pulling you up to stand before lifting you up over his shoulder, “Bee, what the fuck?”

He simply ignored you as he carried you up the stairs and back inside his captain’s house. You tried pushing yourself off as he made his way up the stairs, but it was deemed useless when he just tightened his grip, “Farabee, I swear to god. I will hurt you.”

Eventually, he opened the door to the guest bathroom and gently set you down on the counter before locking the door, “what the fuck was that for? If you want to talk, you could have just waited a second. But no, you had to be all dramatic about it,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Are you done?” Joel asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door.

“I mean, yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired of us ignoring each other and I miss you, so we need to figure stuff out.”

“Awe, you miss me? That’s cute,” you smiled.

“y/n/n, I swear, now is not the time for that one.”

“Ok, sorry. I’ll be serious now,” you said, crossing your arms to mock him.

“I just want to know what happened at the lake?”

“Oh, we’re going straight to the point, alright,” you sighed, “look, what I said at the lake wasn’t true. I got this idea in my head that if you were in my life, you were a distraction from what I wanted.”

“How’d that work out for you?” he said, smirking.

“Oh, no, see that’s what we’re not going to do. No need for the attitude. Anyways, I had this idea that if anything happened between us, that I would mess it up and it would mess everything in my life up. So, pushing you away was the safest option.”

Joel took a moment to gather his thoughts before pushing himself off the door and made his way closer to you, ending up standing between your legs with his hands on either side of you, “look, I’m saying this and I mean it. I understand where you’re coming from with the fear of distractions thing, but I want you to know that I would never intentionally keep you from your goals and dreams. I’m just extra support, you know.”

“Yeah, I realized that after you ran from the lake house. We could have had this figured out by now, if you had stayed,” you said, sarcastically. Rolling your eyes for added dramatic effect.

“Oh, shut up. You have no place to talk, babe,” he said, smiling when he heard you giggle, “what was that for?”

“I kinda missed you calling me babe, I guess. Kinda crazy, dude.”

“Awe, so you did miss me?”

“I never said I didn’t,” you said, quietly reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You saw the way that his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, “I also missed this,” and with that you pulled him closer until your lips met in a long awaited kiss.

As the two of you broke away, your foreheads were still together, “hey, Bee?”

“Yeah?”

“You know who else I missed? Your mom,” you laughed.

“Way to ruin the moment, babe,” he smiled, “That was funny though, so I respect it.”

“Dude, I’m so funny sometimes.”

“Looks aren’t everything, babe,” he said, laughing at the gasp you responded with.

“Oh, that was rude. I’ll get you back one day though,” you watched as he went to leave the bathroom, “hey, Bee. I’m not supposed to walk without crutches, hate to break it to you.”

Rolling his eyes, he made his way back to you, turning around right in front of you, “here.” You leaned a little bit forward, wrapping your arms around his neck once again as he readjusted his grip on the back of your legs, so he could give you a piggyback ride on the way back outside.

“You know, they didn’t tell me there was a party,” you spoke as he made his way back towards the door.

“Oh, they said it was teammates only and then I saw your car,” he replied, pausing a moment as the two of you realized what had happened at the same time, “so, this was-”

“Yep.”

“And Hartsy saying he was going to ask you out was part of it?”

“Hartsy said he was going to do that,” you started cackling. “Wait, were you jealous of him?” you asked laughing even harder.

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh, yeah. I know, it’s hilarious.”

“I will drop you right now,” he said, as he opened the door for outside, “and you’ll stuck right here, Ms. ‘I can’t walk down stairs right now’.”

“That’s a low blow,” you said, as the two of you made your way back to the table you were at.

“Oops, sorry, babe,” he set you down close to your chair, but sat down before you could.

“Oh, so now you steal my chair, too?”

“Oh, shut up, you’re fine,” he said, pulling you to sit in his lap, “there you go.”

“So, I see the two of you made up?” Nolan asked, pointing at the two of you.

“We also made out, in case you were wondering,” Joel replied, earning an elbow to the stomach, “ow, that hurt.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you replied, causing the smile on his face to grow even more.

When Kevin and Ryanne watched the two of you walk back outside, they were happy to see that the plan worked. Ryanne simply laughed and shook her head as she heard the exchange between the two of you, “they are so in love and I don’t even think they realize it.”

“Ryanne, that is a big word, that I’m not prepared for. So, please, let’s not do that today,” Kevin replied, earning a laugh from Ryanne, “they’re happy though, that’s all that matters to me.”

#sticking it #joel farabee #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #philadelphia flyers #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #beezer #joel farabee x gymnast!reader

81 notes · View notes

jae-daddy · 4 years

Text

Red Rose (3)

Jaebum Mafia Series

one / two / three / four / five masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: mafia, angst, romance, mature plot: im jaebum was your first love in university, but then he disappeared. and now he’s back, and he is a mafia leader? a/n: okay so I got a little carried away, and what about it? lmao jk. hope y’all like it. it’ll get better from next chapter <333 not edited at all

The first time you met Jaebum was on the first day of orientation. Your friend had ditched you last minute, and you didn't know anyone else. You stood off to the side, on the edge of the group wishing to hideaway.

You wondered if you could just go away unnoticed. You probably could, but you were scared to be called, and you also didn’t know what you would do if you walked away. You didn’t come to the city much, and all the streets looked the same. All walking away would have achieved would be endless wandering through the city streets, trying to find some sort of familiarity.

You sighed, checking the time and seeing only twenty minutes had passed.

“Hey, can I sit here?” You looked up to find a dark-haired boy smiling at you as he pointed to the seat occupied with your bag. Your cheeks flushed once you realised you had been staring for a minute too long.

“No. I mean, yes, go for it,” you mumbled, before biting your lip at how awkward you were as you removed your bag.

“I’m Im Jaebum, by the way,” he smiled sitting next to you. You gave him a shy smile back, your fingers a fidgeting mess in your lap.

“Y/n,” you replied softly.

“Are you doing a STEM degree too?” He asked you shook your head before replying, letting him carry you into a friendly conversation. He spent the whole day with you after you told him your friend couldn’t make it.

However, you didn’t get his number, and no matter how much you searched on social media, you couldn’t find him. But then by fate or destiny, you met him again. You were outside the lecture theatre waiting for the class inside to walk out when you felt a presence beside you.

“We meet again,” he smiled at you, and your heart skipped a beat. “Hello, y/n.”

“Let me out of here!” You banged against the door, your fist hurting from the heavy beating against the hard wooden door. “Please!”

You didn’t get a reply. No matter how much you yelled, knocked or kicked against the door, you didn't get a reply.

“Please,” you breathed placing your head against the door. You closed your eyes tight as you pushed back the tears of frustration.

You tried not thinking about what had happened a few hours ago. You didn't want to think about the deafening silence after the gunshot. You didn’t want to remember the red that pooled beneath him, how his limps fell to the floor as the man you had killed slowly bled out.

You had killed someone.

You needed to get out of here.

But you couldn’t. You had woken up in this huge room that belonged to some sort of king. It was magnificent, yet modern and contemporary. It’s how you’d imagine penthouse rooms to be that cost more than your monthly wages. But you knew this wasn’t a penthouse.

The silence, this peaceful, skin-biting silence didn’t exist in the city you lived in. No police sirens were going off every few minutes, no honks, no loud suspicious noises, no screams or yells. There was nothing, absolute quietness, and you were losing your mind.

“Let me out!” You pulled at the door once again, before kicking it once again. You stumbled over to the bed, bringing your knees to your chest as you hid your face into your body.

You wouldn’t cry, you told yourself. You will not cry, not now.

And then, like a miracle, the door swung open and in walked in a familiar boy.

“You,” you breathed, remembering him. He was the card-bearer of the group whenever they walked into the diner. He would be the first to tell of the boys and talk to you as if their behaviour was his responsibility.

“We haven’t been introduced,” he adjusted his black jacket, as he placed a tray of food on the table in front of the empty fireplace. He gestured to the food, raising an eyebrow at you in invitation. “I am Park Jinyoung.”

“I’m y/n,” you replied, not moving from your place, your knees still tucked into your chest. “What am I doing here?”

“How about I explain that while you get some food in your tummy?” He gave you a reassuring smile, as stepped to the side and settled on a chair, gesturing the other to you.

You grudgingly got up and sat in front of him. Jinyoung didn’t say anything, his gaze on you and the food, waiting for you to start eating. You slowly took a small bite of the French toast, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, y/n,” Jinyoung softened as he watched you chew your food. “It should be us who should be thanking you for saving our maknae.”

“Oh right,” you placed the bread down, you didn't care to use cutlery, not when you felt so raw and savage. “How is the boy?”

“The boy,” Jinyoung snorted, “is fine. It’s nothing he hasn’t experienced before.”

You nodded, taking it all in.

“So this isn’t new to you? You use guns and hurt people all the time?”

“Only the bad guys,” Jinyoung smiled, offering you a cup of hot chocolate. You took it off his hands and took a small sip.

You welcomed the warmth it spread in your empty tummy, “How do you decide who is good and who is not?”

Jinyoung smirked at that, as he took a sip from his own cup filled with dark coffee, “Sometimes things are cosmically bad. A moral code isn’t required to know and punish those evils.”

“Violence is violence.” You countered.

“Not when it’s to stop a greater evil.”

“There will always be a greater evil,” you held his intrigued gaze, “how do you know when to stop before you become the greatest yourself?”

Jinyoung smiled at that placing his cup down, and just shrugged, “I don’t know.”

You watched him for a few more seconds, before glancing at the open doors.

“How long have I been here?” You asked, meeting his beady eyes.

“You’ve been unconscious for two hours, and then have been sleeping since then, according to our doctor,” Jinyoung replied, smiling as your cheeks began heating up. “It’s been a day. Don’t you sleep?”

“I do. I just...” You trailed off not answering the question. Your leg started shaking anxiously as your mind began to race. “Can I go home?”

“Yes, of course,” Jinyoung replied offended. “We weren't kidnapping you.”

“It seemed like it with the locked doors, and not letting me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung laughed a bit, his lips slightly pouting. “We weren’t home, so we didn’t realise you had woken up. And the guys who remained back ended up occupied, that’s on us. Sorry.”

You just nodded. This didn’t seem that bad of a situation, it didn’t seem like these guys would hurt you or wanted to hurt you.

And then you remembered him.

“Jaebum,” you spoke, making Jinyoung’s wide eyes meet yours in surprise. “Where is he? Can I meet him?”

“You know JB?”

You nodded in reply. Your body on edge with nerves with anticipation, as Jinyoung walked out to get Jaebum. Your fingers nervously fidgeting on your lap, your lips turning raw between your lips, and your leg furiously moving up and down.

You didn’t know if you were truly ready to meet him again. You didn’t know how you would act or what you would say. You had seen him at the diner once, and that was it.

That was all you had of him in the past few years. Just those few moments in your small diner avoiding him and his melting warm brown eyes. You didn’t know what to expect, or how he would act.

But in all this mess, he was the only one you could count on. The only one you knew, the only to help you settle your shaking heart and speeding mind.

You heard his footsteps before he walked in and the doors closed. You spun in your seat to see the boy who comforted you in a room full of strangers, standing there staring at you.

“Jaebum,” you breathed raising up from your seat. You didn’t know if you would ever say that name out loud to him ever again. You had said it so many times before, in so many different ways to him.

You whispered it into his ear, you had moaned it, screamed it and warned it. You never got tired of saying his name, you never got tired of him. Before the name could even begin to lose its magic he had disappeared, but now he was here once again.

He stood there. His dark hair a troubled mess, as if his fingers had spent the past hours running through them endlessly. His white button shirt clinging onto his solid muscles, showing his toned abs and strong arms. The first two buttons of his shirt left open, showing soft skin, the bottom of his shirt untucked messily. He looked like a mess, he looked beautiful,

“Jaebum,” you whispered, tears sparkling in your eyes as you gave him a small smile. Jaebum continued to stare at you, but it didn't falter your racing heart. “How are you?”

Jaebum didn’t reply for a long minute. He continued to stare at you, taking you in slowly. His dark gaze swept over you, drinking you in carefully. But he didn’t smile, his tense shoulders didn’t relax. His hands remained tight by his side, as his jaw remained locked.

“I am as good as someone can be when dealing with a meddlesome waitress shooting the right hand of a mafia company could,” he replied coldly.

Your brows furrowed at that. There was no hint of a smile, no warmth, nothing.

You stumbled over your words, as you gulped and took a step towards him, “Is he okay, Jae?

“He isn’t dead, right?”

Jaebum rolled his eyes, annoyed before sighing, “No, unluckily not.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you say it was trouble that I shot him? How is it unlucky that he didn’t die?” You asked confused, your lips falling into a soft pout. You didn’t like the cold line Jaebum’s lips were drawn into.

“Well, he deserved to die,” Jaebum sighed, finally moving from where he stood. He walked away from you towards the windows looking out over the garden, and forest beyond. “The trouble is now we have a liability.”

“I am the liability?” You asked, watching his back flex as he placed his hands on ledge leaning against it.

He didn’t turn back to you, he looked over his shoulder. His voice tired, irritated as he breathed, “I don’t see any other waitress in this room.”

Your brows furrowed, your lips frowning and you were sure you looked like a ridiculous little kid about to throw a tantrum, but you didn't care.

Before you could speak, the door opened and in walked Jinyoung.

“JB, Derek is on call,” he spoke in Jaebum’s direction. Jaebum just nodded, sighing heavily before he began walking towards the door. You stood there struck by shock at how he was acting.

Was he really going to be like this?

You had just almost murdered someone, ended up in this strange mansion place, near kidnapped, and all he had to say was that you are a nosy waitress who was nothing but a liability.

No hello, or thank you, or how have you been? or I’m sorry for disappearing all those years ago, but surprise! I am now part of this shady bullshit.

Like hell.

“Jaebum!” You called out into the hallway, he stopped a few steps away from disappearing around the corner.

He didn’t reply, he just stood still staring ahead of him. Jinyoung turned to look back at you with raised brows and then gawked between Jaebum and you.

“I am just a nosy waitress?” You snickered, as you strutted towards him. “I am no one else?”

You stopped behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder and twisting him to meet your enraged eyes. “Is that all I am?”

Jaebum smirked back, his eyes so dark and empty, your heart sank, “Are you meant to be anything else?”

“You don’t remember me?” You snorted, your eyes burning with threatening tears. You hated the crack in your voice, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter what emotions you showed or spoke with, it didn’t take away from what you saying. “You don’t remember me at all? You don’t know me? So what you’re saying is that you never went to a carnival and missed all the targets with the gun game, and then treasured a panda keychain I had won you?”

You could see Jinyoung close his eyes to stop himself from laughing.

Jaebum, on the other hand, was not amused or pleased. He took a step forward, making you tilt your head to meet his furious eyes darkening with every passing second.

“You are no one.” Jaebum spat each word, soaking in every word as it pierced your heart.

You looked away from him and took a step back.

“I want to go home,” was all you said looking at his chest.

Jaebum turned, giving Jinyoung a nod before disappearing around the corner.

Jinyoung bit his lip, and you could feel the questions bubbling inside him.

“Shoot,” you muttered as you followed behind him.

“Did he choose the panda keychain?”

“I could have gotten him the giant teddy, but that's what he wanted,” you shrugged, and Jinyoung chuckled.

_______________

You lifted your curtain to find the car remain outside your apartment. The two men in the vehicle reclined, settling as they pulled out snacks and began their little campout.

You sighed, and moved towards the bathroom, stripping the dirty and sticky uniform of your body. You turned the shower on and stared at your reflection, waiting for the water to heat up.

You took in your face, your hair, your lips and your eyes, and wondered how much of it had really changed since you last saw Jaebum. You looked exactly the same; those who knew you would never forget you. Especially, not someone who had spent endless extraordinary moments with you as Jaebum had.

You were exactly the same. Your eyes just a bit more tired, a few lines starting on your face. You didn’t look like a girl anymore, you knew that. The person in the reflection was a woman, a ghost of the past, but still recognisable.

Once the mirror fogged up with steam, you walked into the hot water and let it wash over you.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t say or do anything.

You turned off the shower, dried yourself and walked into your bed.

You covered yourself in your blankets up to your neck and stared at the wall.

“Didn’t recognise me, my ass,” you whispered, and then finally you let go of the tears.

Luckily, you didn’t have work for the past two days. You had spent one day passed out at Jaebum’s mansion, and the other mopping around in your room. You had spent it watching romcoms, and binge-eating every form of sweet and chocolate in your kitchen.

But reality had caught up, and you were now going back to work at the diner. Your gaze drifted to where the car had remained religiously the past day and found the empty parking spot.

You shook your head and brought your purse closer to you as you walked towards the bus stop. You would normally walk to work, but today you were exhausted.

You felt so drained mentally, that your body actually hurt physically.

You didn’t know what happened next though. You were looking through your purse searching for your bus card at the bus stop, when the next moment, a hand tightly gripped your wrist pulling you forward.

The edge of the van slammed against your shin, making you cry in pain. Your wrist was already burning from the tight grip, while your other hand clawed at the hairy hand, that painfully pulled you into the white van.

“No. Stop.” You pleaded, trying to throw yourself back out into the street and out of the van.

A sharp slap against your cheek made your neck almost snap, as someone pulled your hair, and yanked you inside.

“Shut up bitch.” A man with angry eyebrows warned, your cheeks prickling from the pain. He took your hands and tied your wrists behind you, and duck-tapped your lips.

You let him. You fell back, knowing and waiting.

There were four men.

They threw you into a room and didn't even bother to lock it as they walked out. You stayed quiet and listened.

Finally, after what felt like two hours, two of them went out to get some food. The other one went to take a lap around the building, leaving only one.

One was better than four.

You reached along the edge of your skirt, finding the small flat-blade you always kept tucked away there. Everyone had laughed at you and called you insane when you told them you had been doing this to all your outfits, but jokes on them.

You opened your mouth, darting your tongue out to lick away the adhesive of the duck-tap. You carefully cut the zip-tie, biting back the hiss as the sharp edges painfully dug into your skin. You snapped it free, pulling the duck-tap away, before getting up and stretching.

One guy. You could take one guy.

You looked around the room and found a wooden chair.

You rolled your eyes at how stupid they were. The first thing they should've done was tie you to the chairs, but these idiots underestimated you.

You opened the door slightly, searching for the remaining lad. You found him sitting on a chair facing away from your door. He laughed at whatever he was watching on his phone, and you quietly crept out.

You decided against the chair, picking up a rod on the way instead. The guy must have sensed you, as he began turning around, but before he could, you slammed the rod against the head.

You watched as he knocked out, and began walking towards the area you hoped was the exit.

You were almost out when another figure appeared in front of you.

You sighed, clutching the rod tighter in your hand before raising an eyebrow at him.

“Come and get me, shit-head,” you smirked.

“You’re dead, you fucking bitch,” he growled as he charged towards you. You dodged him as he swung a fist at you. You didn’t have strength, but you had speed, you quickly smashed the rod at the back of his knees, making him fall. You instantly landed another blow on the back of his head.

Once he stopped moving you began running out again.

You didn’t know how long it would be before the others returned, or if any others were loitering outside. You didn't let go of the rod and checked every corner before making a turn.

You could see the parking lot, you were almost out.

You began racing towards the door when a bang echoed from behind you. Terrified, you turned back to find the first guy standing there with a gun pointed at you, “Going somewhere, bitch?”

You cursed yourself, as you tried running faster. You should’ve checked for guns, how stupid could you possibly be.

“I’d stop there if I was you,” he chuckled, enjoying the game. However, despite his warning words and the gun in his hand. He didn't chase after you or shoot at you freely. You guessed his lack of speed to be a result of his bleeding forehead thanks to you. But the missing gunshots, however, were a mystery. Nevertheless, you welcomed the stroke of luck or his foolishness with gratitude.

You were almost at the door when two figures appeared in front of you.

“Really, Ron?” The red-haired one grunted at the man behind you. “Couldn't even take care of a little girl like her?”

Three against one, odds outweigh you by a lot, but you were not going down without a fight.

You continued racing towards them and swung the rod straight onto their face. You land it straight onto the red haired’s face but were too slow for the other.

The other kicked your stomach, making you fall to the floor. The rod slipped out of your hands and fell a few feet away from you. You tried reaching for it, but before you could, your scalp burned in pain as he yanked you up by your hair. His hands folded into your long locks, as he held you still before striking your face with the back of his hand.

Your cheeks throbbed in pain, and you tasted the warm metallic tang of blood on your lips and cheek.

“Asshole,” you cursed before thrashing around. It didn't achieve anything but another slap, making you fall onto the floor and hit your forehead against the cracked tiles. You winced glancing up, to find your rod just a few inches away from your hand. You quickly grabbed it as he dragged you back up.

You crushed it against his head, making him fall to the ground. You heard gunshots resound from the other side of the room. You instantly hit him one more time, swinging the rod, at the other guy coming towards you. He lunges backwards giving you enough time to pull out the gun from the guy crying in pain, holding his nose and mouth.

You pointed the gun to the leg, swiftly shooting his leg, making him cry out in pain. And then turn to the other, who surrenders instantly.

He gets on his knees, holding up his hands.

“Throw out your gun, now.” You ordered, and he did it immediately. You picked it up quickly, before turning to the other guy. His head still bleeding, and his gun still pointed at you.

“I know you can’t shoot me,” you told him, you were just bluffing but hoped it was correct. You shot towards him, missing his feet by a few centimetres. “But I can shoot you. Take out your magazine and throw it over here.”

You shoot one more time, this time higher. He grudgingly fell onto his knees and did as you said.

You picked up his bullets, putting it into your pants, along with the other gun. “If you’re going to chase after me, count to two hundred before you start. It’s the least chivalrous thing you could do.”

You raced onto the deserted road. The moon low and the world surrounded in darkness. You continued running, despite your cramping legs, and burning throat and lungs.

You knew the men would be arriving any second now.

And then, like a miracle, you saw headlights. You threw yourself in the middle of the road. Your arms flailing like crazy; tears, sweat and blood mixing together as you cried for them to stop.

“Please stop!” You cried, and then thinking maybe you should’ve hidden the gun to seem more friendly and less serial killer. “Please! Please!”

It slowed as it neared you, and you carefully made your way towards the driver’s side.

“Please help me,” you cried, your words rushed and breaking. “I was kidnapped, and I somehow escaped, but they’re chasing me- please- just- please just give me a ride just a few distances away from here. I- please.”

The windows rolled down, and you were met with distant eyes blazing with icy fire.

“Get in.” He said coldly.

“Jae.”

234 notes · View notes

hibiscxs · 3 years

Text

Legacies Season 4 Episode 3. Here we go!

I was gonna ask if Ethan was on drugs but then I remembered he got MaliSlimed

DrugDealer!Landon AUs coming up

Aria looked so good in that shot right before the title card

Dorian! I missed him

....did she really call him MaliDon? Someone kill me

She looks so mad I love it

Hope was right last episode, but Alaric's right about not doing anything reckless now

"Don't act like you're the only one that cares" uh dude a little late to start caring about Landon.

Nvm he was probably talking about Cleo. Still tho

Cleo's so done LMAO

I would support a Clandon kiss

Of course MG thinks Alaric lying to Hope about Landon is okay. Remember the Ascendant?

Is there a right reason to want to be a vampire???

I love how MG knows what a 1066 is bc he spent all that time stalking police scanners with Ethan

Josie looks so pretty, but this is painful

Her eyes are also so huge

Also, I love Finch in a ponytail

But this really is a rehash of the Posie fight and I'm not really into it

Hope really can't help but quip pre-battle lmao she's worse than her dad

Hope sword fighting is not something I knew I wanted

This monster's lava abs LMAO

Aria sounds so sinister holy shit

Oh shit

Did Hope just kill someone

That wound looks awful tho. Not in a “that looks serious” way but in a "get a better effects budget” way

Okay um

I would have liked to know more of Hope's thought process??

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you" I LOVE DAD/DAUGHTER HOLARIC

The "I can't live with that" line really threw me back to TO season 5 and it's wild bc Hope's very obviously more grown up now but she's still dealing with similar problems and I LOVE the parallel

"The former vampire hunter who took me in when I was little would have made this choice in a heartbeat" Uh, no he would have not???? You're a child???

OH this conversation is hurting me

I’m gonna end up writing a long post about this conversation aren't i

So Ethan is one of MG's blindspots now right? That's what Kaleb said? That's what Kaleb said 😊

RAFAEL PLEASE

But how did they????

Where's the celestial event????

My sweet boi was gonna go fishing

Are there fish in Prison Worlds???

"It's only a prison if you feel trapped" I mean I still have thoughts about your fate Raf, but okay

Rafael seems so different

Like less angry? I wouldn't have a problem with it if we got to actually see his change, but since whatever development he went through happened off-camera and only really happened so we could have this weird “at peace with Landon’s death” thing and it’s weird

For the TVDU show with the least amount of death, the characters are the most okay with death and I am not okay with that

Was Dorian the person Josie said would Alaric would listen to???

Dorian is

The best person

In the whole world

I don't usually like to compare Legacies with the other TVDU shows bc I know it's its own thing with its own tone, but this weird acceptance with Hope killing not just herself but Landon and Cleo and maybe Ethan too is so weird??? Why are they being so supportive of a plan that ends with 4 of their friends dead??? I get it's because "Malivore will kill other people if he's around any longer" but still??? Emotionally, this just does not feel right

Okay, following the Ascendant choice, this type of thinking has become a pattern for MG and I honestly find that really interesting

Kaleb is straight out of TVD and I’m here for it

"Hope deserves our trust" 3 of your friends will be dead

Wait, why did MG say "2 of your friends"? Will Hope not have to perma-die to defeat Malivore??? Is that what the writers are telling us???

Also, while I do think what these decisions say about MG are interesting, it does not endear me to MG. But that’s okay bc I don’t rant about how much I dislike characters and how they ruin shows for me

I love how there are just random doors in Malivore everywhere

Can Cleo not just make herself invisible?

Those monsters are crazy creepy

I've totally forgotten why Raf has to stay in the Prison World

Are they seriously not going to call her family

CLEO GOT OUT!!

Or is she in the Prison World

NO SHE REALLY GOT OUT!!!

A Cled hug???

This scene is an intentional parallel to Klaus's last meal with his family but I don't like it

Wade's story is so cute tho. We need more of that type of stuff

Ugh are they gonna gloss over the "Hope might lose her magic" thing with a half-assed fix it that we're supposed to just accept

Okay nvm it's a legitimately heart warming gesture between our main trio

OH MY GOD CLEO

That was legitimately evil

So the Cled hug wasn't real 🙁

Kaleb’s proving his smarts with that sound trick

THAT DRAWING IS KILLING ME

Are they implying that 7 year old Hope did fight training with Alaric? Or only that she wanted to?

Also Caroline in that drawing<3

I love dad/daughter holaric

I LOVE DAD/DAUGHTER HOLARIC

They better hug

They didn’t hug :(

FREYA

But why just Freya 😭😭😭 IRL logistics can kill logical character decisions on TV and that's why books and fanfics are superior

For a sec I was gonna be really mad that Freya would only be there for a hug again, but thank god I was wrong

"You're gonna be this beautiful forever" First of all, true. But second, so they're really saying Hope does not need to perma-die to defeat Malivore??? Uh, okay

Okay fine. Rebekah is on the other side of the world or smth and she won't make it in time, but Kol??? Isn't he in like California??

Again, really weirded out that the Mikaelsons, aka the most overprotective codependent mess of a family there ever was, are kinda chill about Hope killing herself and becoming The Tribrid. Like ik they all knew it would happen someday, but Hope's still young enough that if I were her guardian, I would not be okay with this

Elijah mention 😔

I love how they have Hope have this "what will being a vampire be like" conversation with the one relative who has never been a vampire and not Alaric 😅

With all this buildup to Tribrid!Hope I'm kinda expecting that it won't happen this episode lmao

3 years ago Freya would not be so excited to "see the birth of the one and only Tribrid" bruh she would have been terrified for Hope and doing everything to delay this. Is this supposed to show that she's matured from that???

For all my criticism, Danielle is playing "scared but trying not to show it and failing" very well

I’m loving this conversation about Klaus jfc this is exactly what needs to be said

"I loved Niklaus" the noise I made was not human

"You're willing to let go of someone you love to save innocent people you'll never even meet" Okay, so I see what the writers are trying to do. And I don't think it's a bad thing to be trying to do. But. I just do not think they are doing it well

Per Alaric’s explanation about transition: I had always kind of bet that Hope wouldn’t need to drink blood to complete her transition bc, like her hybrids, she’d be turning with her blood. Her hybrids needed her blood to complete the transition, and since Hope will already have her blood in her system, she’d just wake up a fully-transitioned vampire. But. If she really will need to transition, then I’m going to guess that this episode will end on Hope trying to complete her transition but things getting in the way.

OH MY GOD THEYRE FINALLY GOING TO MENTION THE TWINS BECOMING VAMPIRES

"In theory it could work" thank you for not being too concrete. Personally, I always thought that both the twins would need to become vampires to bypass the Merge, or else the one who stayed human would just die when they turn 21

Season 4 better mention the Merge often

"You weren't looking for a reason to stay, you were looking for an excuse to go" DAMN JOSIE GO OFF. Also get the feeling that she's not talking about just Finch, huh

I mean I still don't blame Finch for not wanting to stick around

"I need someone who will love me no matter what I choose" That's Lizzie bb

"For once, I want someone to love me enough to stay" Okay, can't blame Josie for wanting that either

The emotions this episode 🤌

Is... Freya going to kill her???

FREYA KILLED HER

OH MY GOD SHE REALLY DIED

I HONESTLY DIDN’T THINK THEY WERE GONNA GO FOR IT

TRIBRID!HOPE IS HAPPENING YALL

Where is she

Is she in Malivore

Or in the Afterlife where she talked to Hayley that one time

PLEASE BE THE AFTERLIFE I NEED ANOTHER CAMEO

What the fuck

Charon???

I really don't know how to feel about Hope having a choice between transitioning and Peace??? And that Charon was there??? This is a lot of retconning for the steps in a vampire transition???

Wait did Kaleb do something

What did Kaleb do

KALEB WHAT DID YOU DO

Bro what's with the wings

HUH????

Warning: My posts for the next week are almost purely going to be the many thoughts I have about this episode

#legacies #currently watching #legacies 4x03 #legacies season 4 #tvdu

8 notes · View notes

twinklecheeks · 4 years

Text

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 11

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does. You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there is any. I’m just illiterate lmao.

Side note: Sorry it took me over a week to post this! I just started my last semester of college and I also have a part time job, so I’ve been super tired. I’ll try to be more consistent.

Warnings! Pregnancy, Smut

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Word Count: 2k

Christmas Eve 12/24/2019

Y/n: *Wakes up and stares at Jeff peacefully sleeping*

Jeff: *moans*

Y/n: *looks down and notices Jeff has a boner* Hmmm *gently rubs the swollen tip of Jeff’s cock*

Jeff: *thrusts into y/n’s hand*

Y/n: *Smirks and quietly gets out of bed to lock the door* *Pulls Jeff’s boxer’s down and sees his cock slap against his abs* *Softly licks the base of his Jeff’s cock all the way to the tip and sucks the head*

Jeff: *moans* mmm fuck.

Y/n: *You use the entirety of your palms and fingers with just how big and long he is. You hum greedily as you do this*

Jeff: *wakes up and smirks* I guess it’s a very Merry Christmas to me.

Y/n: I can suck on your cock all day daddy *winks*

Jeff: *groaning at how fast you’re going* F-fuck baby the way you’re moaning. You’re gonna kill me *bucks his hips*

Y/n: Shhh, I don't want them to know I’m sucking your cock ;) *continues to deepthroat feeling him twitch*

Jeff: Oh my fucking god baby yesss. Fuck me, fuck me, over and over. I swear I’d be fucking you every nigh- JESUS FUCK *cums inside her mouth*

Y/n: *swallows and sucks his cock clean* That was a great way to start Christmas.

Jeff: *laughs* Me cumming in you?

Y/n: *smirks* Mhmmm, I love it when you’re in me ;)

Jeff: What time is it?

Y/n: It’s 7:42am. I think your mom is already up cooking.

Jeff: Well if you want to see the Christmas parade at 11 w/ Jonah’s family, round 2 in the shower has to be a quickie.

Y/n: *looks down at his cock* You’re still hard? You just came a bunch in my mouth.

Jeff: I’m always hard for you babe *winks*

*After the Christmas Parade*

Suzie: I loved the parade! New York is so pretty during Christmas.

Vardon: Christmas is also more fun w/ snow.

Jonah: Guys it was fucking freezing outside.

Y/n: It was only 38 degrees.

Jeff’s mom: Oh good you guys are back. Marie (Jonah’s mom) and I are almost done with the food.

Jeff: Ma you’ve been cooking since like 6am. Have you had a break?

Jeff’s mom: We also did some last minute shopping/ gift wrapping. Everybody gets to open one present today and the rest tomorrow.

Y/n: You guys open presents tomorrow?

Jeff’s dad: Yeah, doesn’t everybody?

Y/n: Well in the Hispanic/ Latinx community, we call today Hispanic Christmas. So we open our presents today and then we spend the 25th stuffing our faces in left overs. We open on the 24th cause we’re too impatient and yes, we know Jesus was born on the 25th.

Jeff: Maybe we can do that w/ the girls next year.

Jeff’s mom: *tears up* Oh god you’re going to have daughter’s next year.

Jeff: Maaaa don’t cry again.

Y/n: Oh we are definitely doing hispanic christmas. If my sister comes over, she’d want to open the presents like a week before. She’s the most impatient. One year, she opened presents at like 3-4pm.

Jeff’s mom: I’m such a cry baby. Now help me set up the table!

*everybody helps set the plates and food*

Jeff’s dad: does anybody want to start the prayer?

Jeff: I’ll do it.

Karyn: Really? The last time you did it was Easter 2005 and you couldn’t stop laughing.

Jeff’s mom: Karyn.

*everybody holds hands*

Jeff: oh Heavenly Father, thank you for all that you’ve brought us. I know that Christmas is about you but I’d like to say thanks. Thank you for keeping everybody here in good health because I don’t know where I’d be w/ out them. I’m grateful for the supportive family and friends you have given me and most importantly, y/n. I know we were very rocky until recently but you brought her into my life for a reason. She was changing me into a better person and I was too stubborn to accept it. Now she’s going to be the mother of my 2 amazing daughters. Those babies already have me wrapped around their fingers and they’re not even here yet. I can’t wait for the day y/n and I get married and have however many babies you give us but don’t make it twins each time cause that’s gonna make my hair gray fast

Jeff’s mom: Jeffrey-

Jeff: okay I’m just kidding… kind of but you know what I mean. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and the rest of my family. Amen.

Everybody: Amen

Jeff’s dad: Hun are you crying?

Y/n: *sniffles her nose* NO. Maybe…. I wouldn't have thought Jeff was religious.

Karyn: Only during Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter.

Jeff’s Dad: Karyn stop teasing your brother. Now that the prayer is over with, let’s eat!

Jeff’s mom: Marie and I spent all morning cooking. Also, since this is y/n’s first Christmas w/ us, I wanted to bring some of the food she eats during the holidays.

Y/n: What food?

Jeff’s mom: *shows the Pernil* (pernil is pork shoulder)

Y/n: NO YOU DIDN’T *tastes the food* AND IT TASTES JUST LIKE OUT MY DAD MAKES IT. How did you make it?!

Jeff: She asked me a couple of days ago what you eat during the holidays and I found your sister on instagram. I got the recipe from her.

Jeff’s mom: I saw that it was a Puerto Rican dish so I asked one of my friends who knows how to make it to show me the steps.

Y/n: Oooo imma try not to cry again but THANK YOU SO MUCH.

Jonah: Can we eat now

After Dinner

Y/n: I ate so much, I think I’m having triplets. But thank you once again. I was pretty nervous to come here because I didn’t know how y’all would react to me.

Karyn: Just know that when we get mad, it’s at Jeff cause he’s always the one that somehow messes up.

Jeff: What time is it?

Suzie: It’s 7pm. Should we watch Christmas movies and then open presents before bed?

Vardon: Let’s watch the Grinch

Jonah: *ignores Vardon* Any other suggestions? Please. ANY OTHER.

Karyn: Y/n what do you watch for Christmas.

Y/n: Well, my personal favorite is Jingle all the Way but the Christmas Line up in my family is usually Home Alone 2, A Diva’s Christmas Carol, A Very Brady Christmas, the I Love Lucy Christmas episode and other’s I can’t remember.

Jeff: I mean, we are in New York. Home Alone 2?

Everybody: Sure.

*After watching Christmas movies*

Jeff’s mom: It’s 9:45pm. I think we should be opening our one present before we go to bed.

Jeff: Youngest to oldest! So my niece goes first, then Vardon, Y/n, Suzie, Jonah, etc.

*Jeff’s nieces and Vardon opens their gifts*

Vardon: No way. Jeff got me airpods! Thank you *Hugs Jeff*

Jeff: You’re welcome. Now time for y/n to open her gift from me.

Y/n: Oooo okay. *opens gift and sees two little gold bracelets* what are these for?

Jeff: I always see babies w/ the small little charm bracelet. You mentioned your sister and you never got that from your parents but your older brother did. I wanted to do that for our girls even though they're not here yet. So once we pick out the names, we’ll get the charms.

Y/n: *sniffles* Dammit why do you keep making me cry.

Jeff: Cause I don’t want you to ever forget how much I love you.

Jonah: Can we move on from this sappy shit so I can open my gift.

Everybody: JONAH.

*After everybody opens their presents*

Y/n: Thank you so much for accepting me on such short notice.

Jeff’s mom: Hun we’re family now. You’ll always be a part of us. Same for the Antonyans. We know how much Jeff misses having us around since he’s been living in LA and y’all have been a family to him.

Jonah’s mom: I love Jeff like he my own son. He help us so much.

Jeff’s Dad: Y’all just have to make sure to visit us often. Get’s kind of lonely here w/ Karyn living in Kentucky, Jeff living in LA. I mean Steven lives in the city w/ his kids but we miss having all of you together here.

Jeff: I’m starting to think that having girls runs in the family. Karyn has a daughter, Steven has twin girls and now I’m gonna have twin girls.

Jeff’s mom: I mean you never know if the nurse made a mistake. They thought your brother was a girl for half my pregnancy. Then they did the last ultrasound a week before I gave birth to him and they said he was a boy.

Y/n: Oh god I don’t even want to think about that. I’m already stressed out about the babies possibly being deaf now I gotta be worried if the nurse misgendered them….

Karyn: The babies are gonna be deaf?

Y/n: Hmm?

Jeff’s dad: You just said there’s a possibility the twins will be born deaf.

Y/n: Fuck. I did say that, didn't I… Jeff, you wanna help me out here?

Jeff: Ummm. Damn we weren’t planning on telling anybody this for a couple of weeks. We got a call a couple of days ago after we did some genetic testing and the doctor said the babies have a high chance of being born hard of hearing/ deaf.

Karyn: My doctors told me the same thing. Luckily my daughter turned out fine

Steven: I wasn’t a carrier for the gene…

Jeff’s mom: We’ll love those babies no matter what. If we have to learn sign language for them, then we’d do it. I’ll fly out to LA once it gets close to the due date to help out.

Jeff: Thanks ma. Means a lot.

Y/n: Thank you so much. I don’t know if my own parents would forgive me by then to be there for the birth.

Jeff’s mom: Anytime sweetheart. My god look at the time, It’s 10:15, we have to go to bed before Santa comes.

Jonah: Haha, but santa isn-

Jeff: Jonah you better better not finish that sentence cause my nieces are here and I don’t wanna see the magic ruined for them.

Jonah: What I was saying was, isn't Santa a little late?… He should’ve been here by now…

Going to bed

Y/n: I am so stuffed. Christmas turned out a lot better than I thought.

Jeff: See, you had nothing to be afraid about. Also, good job on keeping the deaf thing a secret haha.

Y/n: Hey! It’s been on my mind since we found out. WAIT. Jonah and Suzie.

Jeff: What about them?

Y/n: they were there…. What if they tell everybody else.

Jeff: Suzie would never… Jonah on the other hand… I have little faith in him.

Y/n: I’m afraid to check my phone.

Jeff: Same. I haven't looked at it all day. On the count of 3…

Y/n: One….

Jeff: Two.

Y/n & Jeff: Three. *looks at phones*

Y/n’s phone: 82 text messages & 24 missed calls

Jeff’s phone: 77 text messages & 21 missed calls

Vlog Squad GC

David: Was what Jonah said true?

Natalie: Is it serious?

Jason: Y’all I’m so sorry

Zane: There has to be a way to fix it. My babies will be okay right?

Erin: I’ll postpone my wedding until the babies are okay

Carly: Oh no Carly and Erin jr :(

Corinna: The babies are gonna be deaf?

Mariah: Is it confirmed?

Heath: Have y’all seen other doctors?

Matt: Guys they’re busy. I don’t think we should be spamming them on Christmas.

Toddy: We’ll stop one they answer us!

David: I’ll put in whatever money you need for surgeries or anything.

Jason: Guys stop. They’ll tell us everything once they’re ready.

(end of conversation)

Jeff: I’m gonna kill Jonah.

Y/n: Oh hun, so will I…

The next chapter might take a bit because I’m still thinking what will be in it. You guys can give be suggestions and I can give you credit for it!

Comment if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @elvlogsquad @siemprestan @zavidzobrik @galxydefender @iminlovewithenchilidadas @ilsolee @ranprivate @one-sweet-gubler @sunwardsss @shamalamashams @michellemxndes

127 notes · View notes

chillyravenart · 4 years

Note

Do you think the first Rhaenys could be described as a “good Targaryen” like Alysanne or Daeron? I mean yeah she took care of the smallfolk and loved music, poetry etc. But also she was rumored to be accused in adultery and her japes about “the yellow toad of Dorne” doesn’t makes her seem like a very nice person. Just wanna know your opinion, have a good day😊

Hi anon! Lmao I see a lot of Rhaenys hate (from a particular group lol) on here for some reason and I genuinely don’t understand it! Gosh, I really wish people would actually READ the texts properly before passing such sweeping judgements lmao but if that was the case, the asoiaf fandom wouldn’t be such a cesspool of self-righteousness right? So here’s my opinion: Rhaenys never did a thing wrong in her life and anyone who says otherwise is a wet blanket. Don't you think it's suspect when how the maesters portray Rhaenys as a wanton adulteress and Visenya as a stone-cold bitch? I certainly do!

Queen Rhaenys was a very instrumental figure in the Conquest, and exercised “soft power” which is the use of diplomatic and persuasive forms of politics, usually by the use of cultural or economic means. We know this because Fire and Blood spells it out for us:

Queen Rhaenys was a great patron to the bards and singers of the Seven Kingdoms,showering gold and gifts on those who pleased her. Though Queen Visenya thought her sister frivolous, there was a wisdom in this that went beyond a simple love of music. For the singers of the realm, in their eagerness to win the favor of the queen, composed many a song in praise of House Targaryen and King Aegon, and then went forth and sang those songs in every keep and castle and village green from the Dornish Marches to the Wall.

Rhaenys also took a "great interest in the smallfolk, and had a special love for women and children” and was responsible for incorporating the “rule of six/rule of thumb” into common law after a man had beaten his wife to death after being found abed with another man. This is also detailed in F&B but I shall add it below:

The right of a husband to chastise an erring wife was well established throughout the Seven Kingdoms (save in Dorne). The husband further pointed out that the rod he had used to beat his wife was no thicker than his thumb, and even produced the rod in evidence. When the queen asked him how many times he had struck his wife, however, the husband could not answer, but the dead woman’s brothers insisted there had been a hundred blows.

She consulted her maesters and her septons on the matter before passing her judgement on the man.

An adulterous wife gave offense to the Seven, who had created women to be faithful and obedient to their husbands, and therefore must be chastised. As god has but seven faces,however, the punishment should consist of only six blows (for the seventh blow would be for the Stranger, and the Stranger is the face of death). Thus the first six blows the man had struck had been lawful…but the remaining ninety-four had been an offense against gods and men, and must be punished in kind... (The husband was taken to the foot of the Hill of Rhaenys, where he was given ninety-four blows by the dead woman’s brothers, using rods of lawful size.)

Rhaenys and Visenya were both equals when it came to policy-making and ruling Westeros alongside Aegon. And they both DELIVERED. Aegon’s chief objective was to unite the Seven Kingdoms, and Rhaenys and Visenya had their own methods of doing so- but Rhaenys in particular used very effective methods whether it was passing rulings on the common law or spreading the Gospel of House Targaryen😂 Similarly, Rhaenys and Visenya both arranged betrothals and marriages between the Houses of Westeros to further knit the kingdoms together.

Save perhaps for Good Queen Alysanne, the wife of King Jaehaerys I, no other queen in the history of the Seven Kingdoms ever exercised as much influence over policy as the Dragon’s sisters.

As for the “rumours” and “whispers” of Rhaenys sleeping around with bards- GOOD for her if she did, and GOOD for her if she didn’t. She had her man Aegon wrapped around her little finger, he spent ten nights with her for every night he spent with Visenya and if the rumours want to call her a floozy then bully for them. Funny how everyone goes cuckoo over Dornish sexual practise and liberation but lord forbid someone else have a lil fun on the side😂 Speaking of, lets get onto Meria Martell now. This is the entire exchange between them:

Meria Martell was eighty years of age, the maesters tell us, and had ruled the Dornishmen for sixty of those years. She was very fat, blind, and almost bald, her skin sallow and sagging. Argilac the Arrogant had named her “the Yellow Toad of Dorne,” but neither age nor blindness had dulled her wits. “I will not fight you,” Princess Meria told Rhaenys, “nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that.” “I shall,” Rhaenys replied, “but we will come again, Princess, and the next time we shall come with fire and blood.” “Your words,” said Princess Meria. “Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady…but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.” Thus queen and princess parted, and Dorne remained unconquered.

Someone please show me where Rhaenys japed or jeered at Meria. She didn’t personally name her The Yellow Toad, Argilac gave her that epithet and it was in common use by then lol, nor did she parlay with her in an insulting manner. She was there as an envoy to accept her fealty and win Dorne to her side. Later on during the campaign, Rhaenys told Aegon, “The Yellow Toad has melted into the sands” lmao but at this point if people are more concerned about name-calling then idk what to say. Nicknames are commonly used amongst the highborn and lowborn in Westeros, some are pleasant and some not so much - even amongst Targaryens. Aegon the Unworthy, Theon Stark the Hungry Wolf, Kingslayer, Brienne the Beauty, The Imp, Littlefinger, Harma the Dogshead, Whoresbane, Crowfood, etc are all nicknames in common usage! Calling someone a nickname doesn’t make them a bad person, if that was the case, the majority of characters in asoiaf are too🤦‍♀️

Rhaenys died very young, and her loss was keenly felt by her siblings, that much is certain. If she had lived longer, the histories may have turned out very differently! She was an astute, capable and lovable queen and the ultimate matriarch of House Targaryen. I personally believe she would have continued to be very instrumental in law-making and the lives of the smallfolk in Westeros, travelling with Aegon on his progress throughout the lands, holding her own courts and granting her patronage to many a singer and mummer. Good thing we have Queen Alysanne following in her grandmother’s footsteps and doing it for the people!

Long story short, you may or may not agree with the Conquest or House Targaryen in general - and that’s fine. We have a series filled with murderers and rapists and all kinds of unsavoury folks, but it kills me when people say Rhaenys wasn't a "good person" lmfaoooo just stan your bland favourites and stay outta Targaryens’ business!😂😂😂

Thanks for the question anon, hope you have a good day too!

#queen rhaenys targaryen #fire and blood #asoiaf #fanwank #anon asks #chillyravenart answers

166 notes · View notes

jksangelic · 5 years

Text

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot.

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak.

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

Part Six

It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

Part Seven

After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

Part Eight

You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

Final Part

You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one.

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it.

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

❋ masterlist ❋

2K notes · View notes

feverwritingandtextposts · 4 years

Note

Your Rengoku fic was soo soooooo good?! I was blushing and smiling so much!! Is it okay to request Sanemi being nervous to ask reader on a date too in modern AU? He asks Kanae for advice and reader misunderstood his intentions and thought she never had a chance with him. He does eventually ask the home economics teacher after some encouragement from Kanae 🤭 cute, slightly angsty miscommunication! Sanemi is too cute hehe. If not I understand, thank you!

I loved your request lmao! I was caught up for a few days wondering what would be the best way to write it. I hope you like it! Tell me if you do, also still tell me if you don’t LOL.

If you like my work, please support me on ko-fi!

This was also posted on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781480

————————————————————————————

Miscommunication

Not for the first time, you were thankful of how large Himejima was.

He blocked out everything, the light, the doorway, Shinazugawa’s glare…

Peering cautiously past Himejima’s bulk, you met the sharp eyes of the Math teacher. You flickered your gaze back to the table immediately, trying to desperately act as if you never noticed him staring.

In your defence, you never thought he’d get this angry over it. You only ate one of his strawberry daifuku, and that was only because he’d been complaining about having to eat them at all! A generous student’s mother had given him an entire bag full of them; you didn’t think he’d miss one.

Slowly, you lean back in your chair slinking fully into Himejima’s shadow and out of Shinazugawa’s line of sight. You had to stretch out your hands awkwardly to mark papers at this angle, but its worth it to stop feeling that burning glare on your skin.

From over the other side of the room, you could hear Shinazugawa’s chair scrape as he moved, and all of a sudden, you felt that piercing gaze on you again.

Did he re-position himself… Just to glare at you?

You were so fucked.

—

“You should try a peace offering,” came Tomioka’s mild suggestion. At your silence, he tries again. “It worked for me,” he says, half shrugging.

You remember a specific instance where Tomioka had tried this very method to stop Shinazugawa’s angry tirade during a particularly tense teacher’s meeting (hereby referred to by traumatised witnesses as ‘The Incident’). The two of them had ended up in an all out brawl, the bear shaped cupcake Tomioka had offered ending up half squished under his sneakers, with the other half smeared all over Shinazugawa’s tight tailored trousers.

Probably sensing what you were thinking of, Tomioka opened his mouth again, perhaps to defend his suggestion before he was smoothly cut off by Kanae.

“He’s got a point!” she says, clapping her hands together in excitement. “After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! You should make him something.”

You frown at her.

She goes on, pointedly ignoring your deep frown of disapproval. “How about ohagi? I’m sure you know how to make some, you’re the Home Economics teacher after all.”

You frown even harder. “Kanae-san, he’ll kill me.”

She smiles, and there’s something mysterious that twinkles behind her eyes that scares you. “He won’t if it tastes nice.”

—

Perhaps for better or worse, you take up their suggestions. You don’t have any better ideas anyway.

You spent a lonely afternoon working on your sweets in the empty Home Economics classroom, crafting your ohagi. You’d never admit it, but you took Kanae’s words seriously. If you were sure of anything, it was your cooking skills. You could’ve been a chef if you weren’t so intent on teaching rowdy children the finer art of home cooked cuisine.

If Shinazugawa didn’t like your ohagi your heart might never survive the insult.

At Kanae’s encouragement the next day, you began your long walk to find Shinazugawa, with all the heavy countenance of a soldier off to war.

You find him brisk walking through the third year’s corridor, probably on his way back to the staff room for lunch. He looked as hard to approach as ever, face set in stony contemplation, arm raised to prop his file up on his shoulder, biceps bulging through his tight shirt.

Hesitantly, you call after him, the nicely wrapped bag of ohagi clutched tightly in your clammy hands. To your surprise, he stops immediately, head swinging to you so fast he might have gotten whiplash.

“What?” he asks, eyes wide and intense, burning right through you. Uncomfortable by the full force of his attention, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you break eye contact. Lowering your gaze, you are instead greeted by a full view of his scarred pectorals, courtesy of the ever open shirt. You raise your gaze back to his face immediately, not wanting to be caught staring.

“Um,” you begin, holding out the packet of food, feeling for all intents and purposes like a blushing schoolgirl talking to her crush. Thank god all of the students had already left for the cafeteria. “This is for you.”

He takes it, eyes widening as he examines the treats through the see-through plastic packaging. He’s unusually quiet. “Sorry for eating your daifuku,"you grind out, and his eyes snap back to you.

His face twists, eyebrow cocked. "You ate my daifuku?” he asks, confusion laced in his voice.

“You didn’t realise?” you ask, incredulous.

Shinazugawa scowls in response. “Why would I care if you ate it? You can have the entire bag if you want.”

“Then, why are you angry with me?"

At that, Shinazugawa splutters, and you watch as his cheeks tinge with colour.

"I’m not mad at you,” he snaps, eyebrows furrowed angrily at you.

Pursing your lips, you decide to let that one go. Shinazugawa continues to glare at you for a moment longer, before blurting out a harsh “whatever,” and stalking off.

You stand in the empty hallway, dumbfounded. He didn’t even thank you for the food! But then again, he did say he wasn’t angry at you so… You’ll still consider this a win.

Shinazugawa doesn’t speak another word to you for the rest of the day, but the heated glares stop as well so you won’t complain.

—

The next morning has you breathing easier. No longer did you feel Shinazugawa’s fevered gaze trained on your back. No longer did you risk catching his eye in a crowd, far too intense for a mere glance. No longer did he force himself into the seat in front of you at lunch and glare at you instead of eating his food.

It was actually feeling far too peaceful for you. Like a fire doused with water, the sudden change in Shinazugawa’s attitude left you feeling surprisingly dour.

You barely even see him anymore, a startling change from when he seemed to be everywhere you looked. If you didn’t know better, yo’d think he was avoiding you.

The thought made you a little bit sad.

You didn’t mean to create a rift with him. You just wanted to be friends! Maybe. Even you didn’t know what you wanted. You wanted to get along with your colleague, you wanted it to be more than just long looks from the other side of the room, more than just wordless glares. You wanted to know just what his problem with you was.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got.

Stupid Shinazugawa, with his stupid hair, and his stupid handsome face, and perfect abs and-

Whatever. It’s not like you cared anyway.

That’s exactly what you tell a very bored Tomioka at lunch that day, as he chews dismally through a mouthful of rice.

“Hm,” is all he says to your ranting, and continues shoveling rice into his face. Rengoku also ignores your griping, likely not even hearing you over his own exclamations of “Delicious!” as he steadily makes his way through his fifth bowl of ramen. You guys were the only ones at the teacher’s table with Uzui holed up in the infirmary nursing burnt fingers from his latest explosion attempt, Himejima spending the lunch hour counseling (reprimanding) some of the problem kids, and the rest scattered somewhere or another.

You wished that Kanae were here to vent to. No sooner did you think that did the lady herself walk into the cafeteria, deep in conversation with a pensive looking Shinazugawa. Walking towards the table, Kanae catches your eye and sends a quick smile your way, never once stopping whatever it was she was telling the Math teacher. You hear Shinazugawa click his tongue in annoyance at her as they drew close. Spotting you and Tomioka, he gives the latter a particularly withering glare, and glances away quickly when you meet his eye. Not breaking stride, he stalks past the teacher’s table, to sit in-between a surprised Genya and an absolutely horror struck Zenitsu.

Inwardly, you offer the boy your condolences.

Kanae gives you a knowing smile as she takes her seat beside you, leisurely unpacking her homemade bento.

“So how did it go?” she asks finally, offering you a piece of her tamagoyaki.

“Terrible,” you reply grumpily, accepting the egg and immediately shoving it in your mouth. “He hates me even more now.”

Kanae hums thoughtfully in reply. “I don’t think he hates you.”

You deadpan her a look. “He hasn’t said a word to me all day. He won’t even look at me.” At that Kanae snickers, trying and failing to hide her smile behind her chopsticks. You raise an eyebrow at her questioningly.

“You seem surprisingly upset at that! After all that you’ve complained about being looked at too much before,” she says in-between bouts of tinkling laughter.

You can’t help the immediate flush at her words. “I wasn’t being looked at! I was being glared at!”

“Uh huh,” she agrees teasingly, pretty pink eyes alight with amusement. Feeling the heat creep up your neck at the implication, you turn away from her with a huff.

Your reaction just served to amuse her more, and she pats your back consolingly. After her laughter dies down, she speaks again, voice gentle. “If you want him to speak to you, why don’t you try talking to him first?”

You fight the childish need to pout. “No way. He can hate me if he wants, I don’t care.”

Behind your back, Kanae and Tomioka share a tired look.

Your dismal mood carried on throughout the day, even inciting the concern of some of your more perceptive students (mainly Tanjiro). You sigh as you set your stack of collected homework on your desk, drained from your own whirlwind of emotions the last few days. You’ll tackle it tomorrow.

You’re so wrapped up in yourself that it takes you a while to notice that you’re the last person left in the staff room. With a single glance to the dark skies outside, you rummage through your bag and desk for your umbrella.

You can’t find it, probably having left it to dry out on your balcony the night before. Silently ruing your own forgetfulness, you resolved to just make a dash for it with your windbreaker as a makeshift cover. Luckily it was late enough that most if not all of the students were already home and wouldn’t bear witness to their teacher fighting the rain.

Pulling open the door, you step out and knock promptly into something hard in the darkened hallway. Before you can draw back with a shriek, the something speaks. “You’re still here?” the voice asks, and you peer through the dim lighting to see Shinazugawa staring down at you.

“Yeah I had some.. Stuff to do,” you mumble, taking a step back from him. “Why are you still here?”

Shinazugawa’s eyes, no less intense than before, searches you for a second before he glances away again. “Its raining. Do you have an umbrella?” he says finally, choosing apparently, to completely gloss over your question.

You shake your head in response, wondering why he was suddenly talking to you. He cocked his head sharply, a universal sign for follow me. Turning, he ambles down the hallway calling out a casual, “you can share mine,” as he goes.

Your pride begged you to protest, but the larger, traitorous part of you willed yourself to go along with it, following him down the dim empty hallways to the school entrance. You say nothing on your way down, the strange awkward tension of the situation settling into your bones and keeping you from looking at him. Ever so often you feel his burning gaze settle on you, but he glances away just as quickly.

As it turns out, Shinazugawa’s umbrella wasn’t that big. It wasn’t tiny, but it certainly wasn’t big enough for the two of you to share without one of you getting wet. The man himself shoots you a pointed look and you take it as a hint not to mention that.

Pressed against his arm, you tried desperately not to think about how your fingertips brushed against his as you two walked, squeezed awkwardly under the umbrella.

The sun would have barely gone down at this time, but it was so dark out it might as well have been night. It was also ridiculously cold out, a fact that you only realised now that you had a warm body tucked against you. As the rain came down heavier, you felt a shiver rack through you, and you involuntarily press yourself into the warmth of Shinazugawa’s arm.

You feel him stiffen, and realising that, you try to move away, getting your shoulder immediately soaked through with rain. Shinazugawa clicks his tongue in annoyance, wrapping his arm around you and drawing you in close. “You’re gonna get wet, idiot,” he muttered, but there was no heat behind his words. Instead, all the world’s heat seemed to be concentrated in his arm, wrapped tightly around you, comfortably warm.

Your face was burning. Utterly gobsmacked by the situation, you couldn’t bring yourself to say a word, hell, you couldn’t even look at him right now. The rain was thankfully loud enough to drown out the beating of your own heart as you two made your way down to the station, half cuddled into his side. You were pretty sure his arm was getting wet from how it was shielding you from the rain, but Shinazugawa didn’t say a word, so you didn’t either.

The station was as busy as ever, filled with bedraggled people running for their trains. Shinazugawa dropped his arm from you the minute you two were under the station’s shelter. Wordlessly, he began folding the umbrella. Somehow you felt that if you spoke now, it would break the strange tension that has followed you two since leaving the school. And for some reason, you didn’t want that to happen. So you stand, watching as he folds his umbrella, slowly, and he stands, feeling your eyes on him, close enough for him to smell the shampoo off your hair.

Shinazugawa breaks the silence first.

“Wanna get something to eat?” he asks, tossing his bag over his shoulder and giving you a great view of his rolling biceps.

“What?” you reply, intelligently.

“Eat. Let’s go eat,” he says, beckoning you to follow him as he makes his way over to one of the small hole in the wall eateries that line the inside of the station. Not wanting to turn down this rare show of friendliness, and even less wanting to part from him, you follow along.

The two of you squeeze into the tiny plastic benches of a damp smelling Mcdonalds. Seated in front of you, the chairs were close enough that your knees bumped against Shinazugawa’s, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. Shinazugawa was smiling.

He looked like he was trying to hide it too, propping his elbow up on the backrest and resting his hand oh so causally against his mouth. You never thought he’d like Mcdonalds this much.

“What do you wanna get?” Shinazugawa asked, “I’m buying.”

“Uhh,” you scan the menu quickly, before telling him your order. You were more than a little flustered with the sudden 180 in your relationship with this man. He went from angry, to ignoring you, to walking with you in the rain, to now treating you to food? He felt like a hurricane and you can’t catch up.

Distantly, you thought about what Kanae said about “talking”.

Shinazugawa sets down the tray of greasy fries and burgers with a clack, startling you out of your reverie. He motions for you to take one, still looking far too pleased about being stuffed into a plastic seat with damp clothes and a tray full of fried food. He’s got a lovely, pleasant smile on, and its a jarring difference from his usual irritable glowers and sinister smirks. It makes him look gentle.

You help yourself to the food, and spurred on by Shinazugawa’s content expression, you decided to bite the bullet. “So, why did you come back to the staff room?”

The effect is instantaneous. Shinazugawa chokes on his burger, nearly upsetting his soda as he tries to wash it down. You stare, unsure weather to laugh or be genuinely concerned. His face is red now, and you’re not sure if its because of the choking, or whatever possibly embarrassing thing he’s about to say.

“I came back because Kochou told me you were probably still around,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowing as if daring you to contest what he says.

Confused, you point at yourself. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you don’t have an umbrella, idiot.”

“How did you know I didn’t have an umbrella?”

“Because it always sticks out at the end of your tiny ass bag, and I didn’t see it there toda-” Shinazugawa cuts himself off, eyes widening in the realisation that he had maybe said too much.

“Wow, you’re really perceptive Shinazugawa-san,” you say, somewhat awestruck. Shingazugawa flushes an even darker red, the colour of his burning cheeks vibrant against his pale hair. You can’t help but smile at the display. “Thank you,” you say honestly, “you’re a really nice person. I can’t imagine anyone else coming all the way back to the office just to help their colleague.”

Shinazugawa gawks at you, the embarrassment on his face shifting to something nearing incredulity. “You-” he begins, voice halting as if he’s trying to reign in his emotions. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

You draw back, offended. And just when you thought you guys were finally getting along. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you’re an idiot,” Shinazugawa says, his voice growing louder with agitation with every word. “You think I’d go all the way back there for just anybody? You think I’m just trying to be nice?”

You leant back as far as you could in the tiny seat, very confused about Shinazugawa’s mounting anger, and very uncomfortable about the stares the two of you were getting. “Uh… Weren’t you…?”

“No!” he snarls, slapping a hand to his forehead.

“Oh. Uh, then why-”

“I LIKE YOU, YOU IDIOT,” Shinazugawa snaps, slamming his hand down on the table, with a resounding smack.

Ok now, everyone was staring.

Oh my god.

Shinazugawa hides his face in his hand, either from embarrassment, exasperation, or a mixture of both. Hesitantly, you reach towards him to pat his arm for comfort. He grabs your hand, lightning fast, before you could touch him, and the sudden warmth of his touch makes you jump. “You thought I hated you? Why? What the fuck did I do wrong? Kanae was all like ’maybe you’re being too intense’ so I tried to stop looking at you so much, but then you looked sad anyway so fuck Kanae’s advice and-” You reach out and set a hand over his mouth, effectively stopping him to the disappointed murmurs from the gossip hungry Mcdonalds customers, cuing in onto your drama.

In any case, you didn’t think your heart could take any more of these sudden revelations. You were sure your face was just as red as his, or even more so. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice wavering. “I totally didn’t realise. Guess I really am an idiot huh?”

Shinazugawa’s eyes widened. Peeling your hand gently away from his mouth, he shook his head ferociously. “No, you’re not. Don’t- You’re not an idiot. You’re just too fucking dense about this kind of stuff.” His grip on your hand tightened to a comforting squeeze. “But I like that about you anyway.”

“Wha- you do?”

“Yeah. I like a lot of things about you.”

“Really?”

“You’re a really fucking good cook too.”

You blush even harder at that, unable to stop the smug smile on your face. You knew no one could resist your ohagi! Shinazugawa gives an endeared, lopsided smile at your expression.

“Make that for me again sometime.”

“Oh, sure!” you say, smiling back at him. To your surprise, he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t make them if you, ya know, don’t wanna or something,” he says softly, and you catch what he means for once.

“Hey! I don’t make ohagi for just anybody you know!”

—

Shinazugawa continues to hold your hand as the two of you leave the Mcdonalds, and you let him, the two of you blushing and smiling like misbehaving teenagers.

Behind you, someone wolf whistles at the two of you, and someone else cheers, probably having sat through the entire of the two of your very vocal confession scene.

At that Sanemi whips around, teeth bared and ready to fight whichever poor soul it was. Urgently, you tug on his hand, hoping to prevent a McMassacre. Surprisingly, he allows you to lead him out obediently, but he still keeps turning back to shoot the other customers death glares as he goes.

You sigh to yourself, unable to stop the amused smile creeping up on your face. Just what did you get yourself into?

#sanemi x reader #kny imagines #kny #Kimetsu no Yaiba #shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi #kochou kanae #i headcanon that sanemi gets as red as genya does when he's embarassed #no one can convince me otherwise

335 notes · View notes