#side note: following tags are a pretty long thought dump | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

rude boy

— As the captain of the volleyball team, you have to set a good example of staying firm to your rule of not dating the male players...but perhaps you’re willing to bend the rules a little bit when a rude boy is kind enough to show you why you’re wrong.

CONTENT/WARNINGS. smut, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), hard!dom suna, slight exhibitionism, doggy style, overstimulation, mild breeding kink, cumplay, implied size kink, degradation with praising kink (LOL), soft! aftercare suna

NOTE. oh hell yeah we’re turning into a haikyuu blog. i can’t believe i’m writing for a character i haven’t even met yet but hey SUNA RINTAROU SUPREMACY. I’m in love with him, maybe much more than I like Akaashi, but can you blame? he’s sexy AF. tagging @noritoshiikamo

SONG INSPOS. Rude Boy, Disturbia, Where Have You Been All My Life (Rihanna)

Win after win, your school is glorious and honourable once more. Not only did the men’s volleyball team, but as the captain of the women’s team, you proudly carried awards just as they did.

You’re on the dance floor, hazily dancing to the beat with your red cup already empty. It’s rare that people organized after parties but you made it Nationals this time around; surely it’s not too bad to let everyone let loose. Besides, the managers weren’t around and everyone seemed to be having fun, bringing in their plus ones or making out with their fellow teammates.

You scowl at the sight. The one thing you hate the most is breaking formalities and relationship autonomies – everyone knows that you have one strict rule: No dating the players for the men’s team.

Naturally, your team members are more than flabbergasted. The male players are gorgeous after all, but you’ve grown up with the Miya twins; you know beauty could never be enough of a reason for your precious teammates to be used for pleasure and dumped to the side once they’ve had their fill. You all have a bright future ahead of you, with goals and dreams to be fulfilled; one that you won’t allow to be trampled upon by these men.

You’re about to head back to the kitchen for another drink when someone holds you in place, large, calloused hands gripping at your hips. You’re about to elbow the intruder when the familiar scent of musky spicy cologne, mixed with sweat and something that was solely him, you relaxed.

“Can’t keep your hands to yourself for the whole party, Suna?”

“You’re here,” his bored, deep voice is sultry as it coos in your ear. Unable to help yourself, you shiver at his touch, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. “I don’t see a reason to.”

“You’re a little touchy tonight,” you comment, the glare of your eyes softening as the alcohol loosens the usual composed and strict captain in you, falling back into his touches that tell a promise of something more later. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was because you miss him too – whatever it was, you’re grinding onto his front, the middle blocker humming as a warning in your ear not to tease him too much. You being you though, you only push back harder, allowing him to set the pace by squeezing your waist. “You act like you don’t see me all the time.”

“Doesn’t mean I get to feel you all the time,” his voice turns husky, the mere sound of his voice mixing with the party’s music increasing your arousal. You breathe sharply when Suna cups your core experimentally, thankful that his body is big enough to hide what he’s doing. “Upstairs?”

“Here, Suna? In a party?”

“Can you wait until we get home?” he taunts, chuckling when he sees the way your lips press into a thin line. “As I thought.”

Tch, he doesn’t have to be so cocky about it.

Suna leads you upstairs before pushing you inside the closest empty room, his lips hands everywhere on you the moment the back of your knees hit the bed. He’s eager and needy, his arousal evident from how he’s bucking the tent in his pants against your hands. His tongue prods you to open your mouth, and just to tease him, you refuse him access, slipping your hands inside his pants instead to swipe a thumb over his thumb.

He growls at your teasing, retaliating by pinching your boob followed by a flick over your nipple. Suna isn’t only an expert at volleyball; he’s a master of your body too, able to play you and hit the right spots all the fucking time.

He’s aware of this when he finally gets what he wants – a shocked moan from you that nearly makes you fall back on the bed if it wasn’t for his other hand tugging at your wrist to slam you back to his body. Suna doesn’t waste his time in kissing you, sucking on your tongue until you both start fighting for dominance. Just as he’s lost and crazed by the pent up sexual frustration of watching one another play at court today – to see the other so close yet so far away – you swallow his small, little groans into your mouth, your hand eagerly pumping and spreading his pre-cum all over the base of his shaft.

Suna’s cock twitches into your palm, prompting you to squeeze the length at the same time you bite down on his lip. Hard.

His eyes snap open moments before he comes, his touch rough and even bruising when he pushes your arm away from his. As if a switch has been flipped inside him, his eyes have grown darker, his hands running down your form hungry and even animalistic.

Your eyes widen when Suna goes down on his knees, deft fingers tugging at the waistband of your shorts. “S-Suna, what’re you doing—”

“Shh, I want to taste you,” your hands find home in his hair as he helps you shimmy out of those tight, ass-hugging material that had him rock hard during your whole match. He wants to punish you for it, for nearly distracting him when it was his turn to play; the fact you’re always so unaware of the effect you have over him downright offensive. He has other plans in mind though, plans you’re about to discover when Suna suddenly licks at the swollen nub through your panties, making your thighs shiver. “Haven’t seen this pretty pussy in a long time,” he buries his face in your cunt, taking a huge whiff of the intoxicating scent of your arousal.

It’s almost perverted, you think, the way he’s rolling your hardened clit between his teeth, relishing in the way you’re falling apart for him like this, legs spread wide open.

Suna keeps you steady by squeezing your ass closer to his face until his nose is prodding at your lips, the sounds of your pretty moans and whines erotic enough that he feels like busting a nut right then and there. He holds back though, pulling away to breathe just to bite the lace down your legs. The whole time, he keeps his fox-like eyes on yours that are pooled with lust and something carnal, the grazing of his teeth collecting heat to pool at your core.

With two long fingers pulling your lips apart just for his eyes, he licks at your blossoming sex, pulling groans from both of you when he dives into your even harder.

Suna’s tongue is lapping at your dripping juices while you look down at him, pupils blown wide just as he smirks, he actually fucking smirks under you, his tongue suddenly plunging inside your sopping hole.

Your scream is muffled at the last moment when you bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood, the nails digging into his scalp making him hiss.

Nevertheless, Suna doesn’t stop, drinking all you can give him while his tongue laps at your walls. The warm, wet muscle exploring each inch of you has you grinding against his face, shameless as you fuck yourself harder on his tongue. Suna chuckles at your actions, the vibrations pushing you over the edge.

He can tell you’re cumming when you start to clamp down on him, the flowing of your arousal easily cleaned up with tight, consistent sweeps of his tongue.

Your eyes are shut tight as you prolong your orgasm by grinding your pelvic bone shamelessly on his cum-stained face. Then your legs wobble until you’re falling, shaking, but Suna pushes you down completely on the bed.

Your breathing is ragged once you see that he’s crawling above you in the same manner a predator stalks his prey, his smirk nothing but devilish while your juices spread on his cheeks gleam under the dim lights.

Suna uses one hand to discard your shirt before throwing it to other side of the room, one knee to pry your legs apart. Your eyes dart down to the sports bra you wore, not sexy at all especially with the Nike logo, and your cheeks warm at the realization. Arms coming up to hide yourself, you fail when Suna slaps your hands away, glaring at you.

“Stop covering yourself. You don’t have to wear lingerie to for me all the time – you know I’d fuck you either way.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to be shy when he rips the bra apart, mouth latched onto one nipple. You gasp when he plunges three fingers in, definitely different to his usual routine of prepping you, and you’re being stretched open by his fingers a little too fast that you’re clutching on his bicep to catch your breath.

“F-Fuck, Suna, can’t even be a little gentle? What happened to foreplay?”

“I’m tired from winning match by match today, baby. Being gentle is the last thing on my mind when you’re splayed out for me like this,” he pulls away just to release his fingers from you, twisting his hand back to back to grin pervertedly at the way your cum slicks his hand. Using that exact same hand, Suna covers his length with it as he hovers over you, pushing the tip of his cock past your lips.

He immediately notices the way you hitch your breath, fingers clutching desperately at the sheets as you struggle to accommodate for him despite already being so wet.

He was just so thick and feels so good – it’s always a challenge not to cum all the while he’s entering you. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve taken me before,” he reminds you, hooking his arm under your knees before he stretches you further, your thighs flat on your chest. You gasp at the new sensation of feeling him so deep inside you, his whole practically atop your calves as he thrusts inside experimentally. “Come on, you’ll take this big cock like a good girl, won’t you?”

“S-Suna.”

“You feel even better than usual,” he praises you, his eyes narrowed and hazy with pleasure as he continues fucking into you. His thrusts are slow yet deep, bottoming out with each time that he knocks the wind off your lungs, successfully hitting that sacred, sweet sensitive spot inside you that only he could ever reach.

Suna smirks at the apparent pleasure written all over your face, teasing you further by grabbing the flesh of your hips while he drives his cock deeper. “You’re just clamping down on me like a bitch in heat,” he notes to mock you, but he wasn’t free of this pleasurable torture as well, not when your walls sucked him in greedily that it took most of his energy just to pull out from your grip. It must be because you’re exerted from today’s match just as he is, and Suna spreads one leg to the side, your knee pressed beside your head. “Muscle cramps? Can’t say I mind.”

“Shut up, Suna.”

“I think you need to shut up,” he stuffs his fingers in your mouth, his chuckles formed in stuttered breaths when you clamp down on him. “Clenching harder on me now? Didn’t peg you for someone who liked this shit,” Suna, having always been perceptive to your smallest reactions, leans over to you to cup your cheek, the tenderness in his eyes a huge contrast to how he’s filling you up to the brim, his hips delirious and delicious with each snap. “You’re just a dirty little whore, aren’t you? So good for me.”

“S-Suna,” you begin to reach for him, feeling that welcomed tightening of your stomach. You never like to admit it out loud, but you and Suna know you’re always so clingy and starved for touches when you’re about to him.

Your lips are puckered out, arms wrapping around his head to pull him in for a kiss when Suna smirks. He knows exactly what you want – and that’s exactly what you’re not gonna get.

He flips you until you’re flat on your stomach, encircling your waist to pull your ass flat against the ticklish hairs resting at the base of his cock, his pelvic bone snapping against your backside. You cry out at the new position, the need to touch him painfully deprived until you’re sobbing on the pillows, wanting nothing more than to kiss him as you came.

Suna Rintaro really is rude.

You came first before him, drool spilling from your lips when you’re left with no other choice but to fist the sheets. Suna’s groans are guttural, his usual pace of fucking you slowly now turns carnal. Sounds of skin slapping and his balls hitting your ass cheeks echo around the room, the sounds too loud that you both fail to hear the rushed footsteps and giggles until the door opens.

Suna feels you tense under him, the crashing waves of your orgasm dulled by the panic rising in your chest. You know he’s covering you, but your heart absolutely lurches in your chest when Suna only continues, scoffing at whoever entered the room.

You scramble to move yourself off him but Suna only holds you down, his palm flat behind your head, arms pinned at the small of your back until you’re completely incapacitated. Once again, Suna’s proved that he’s a man of control, especially when it comes to your body. He won’t fail to remind you again and again that your body is not yours – it has always been his and will always be his.

Once he starts moving again, deliberately and painfully slow to emphasize the embarrassing shlick coming from your pussy, Suna smirks at the new guests. “Rooms taken, idiot – find someplace else.”

“Fuck, is that the captain for the girl’s team?”

You bite down on your lip upon hearing Atsumu’s voice, desperate to prevent the sinful moans to be heard past your lips. You’ve built quite a reputation for being sharp tongued and even wicked when it comes to being strict – to have him hear of all people that his teammate could easily break you like this would be beyond damaging both to your pride and reputation.

Suna glares at the golden-haired boy who’s now forgotten the girl hanging off his arm, his head tilting past Suna’s uniformed frame fucking deep into you.

He could hear it, could hear the sloppy squelching of your sopping cunt, could even hear the way Suna’s breath sharpens, but he wants to see it, to witness this atrocity. Suna, however, wasn’t having any of it.

His possessive grip is intensified with the nails digging into your wrists when he only fucks into your harder, his feet now planted on the mattress as if to mark his territory. “Don’t look at my bitch. She’s mine,” he growled, pulling you by the hair until your head is splayed all over his shoulder, your breasts bouncing from the speed he’s ramming into you at. “Now leave.”

“Suna, don’t be fucking rude.”

The door closes afterwards, but not free from comments from Atsumu on how you had a pretty ass. This ticks Suna off, licking stripe down your neck and up your jaw, nose buried into the crook of your neck to memorize your scent coated with sex hanging off the air.

“You’d rather have them watch?” he slaps your ass, your moan whiny and pornographic – you were really truly different than what you want people to think of you. “Of course you’d like that, filthy slut,” he nibbles at your ear, reaching forward to rub at your clit until you’re shaking again, your second orgasm just looming around the corner. “But I don’t want to share you, baby. Now fuck yourself on my cock like the whore you are.”

He shoves you flat on the mattress again, your forearms weak as you heave your weight upwards. Your head is thrown to the side, back arched down low as you follow his command like a good whore as he’s called you. You gyrate your hips to swirl your pussy around his thick pole, pushing backwards again and again until you’re gasping, shaking, trembling and utterly fucked out.

Your pace is nothing compared to what Suna is capable off, but he’s tense, jealous even that he wants to assure himself he’s the one who could get you to feel this way, even if it meant giving you all the work alone.

“What’re you gonna do now that everyone knows about us?” he asks through gritted teeth, placing his hands at your hips just to steady yourself. Suna’s eyes are zeroed in on the way his length disappears around your pretty lips, so open and puffy as you use his dick to pleasure you. He takes pride at the way you moan, back arching and little growls on your lips when he finally snaps his hips, meeting you thrust by thrust.

“Are you finally giving into me?” he asks again for what seems like the hundredth time ever since he’s laid his eyes on you, thumb flicking over your clit again. You cry out as he does so, uncaring of the strain when your arms reach out behind him, touching him this time around. Suna allows you to do so, hugging your waist to pull you into him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to yours while you moan left and right.

You’re sweating, eyes shut tight and fingers calloused from years of playing volleyball pinching at your own slips. You look so lewd every time you’re thinking of nothing else but the pleasure he’s giving you and Suna grows harder inside you, his thrusts rough along with another slap to your ass.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that. You look so gorgeous bent over for me, you know, might as well just be officially mine.”

You manage to scoff through the pleasure, ignoring the way your heart flutters when Suna interlaces his fingers with yours above your breast, the both of you caressing the flesh tenderly. “I told you already, I’m never dating you.”

“And why not?” he challenges, the grip on your hips tightening again. “Who do you run to when you’re sad? Who do you bother when you’re happy? Who makes you feel good and fills you to the brim when your fingers just aren’t getting you off?” Unsatisfied with your silence, Suna snaps his hips harder, his grin wicked when you scream again, his name falling off your lips like a prayer – which is ironic, since he’s the one always worshipping you despite his need to be in control. “Isn’t it always me? Just say yes, baby, I’d get to do this to you all the time. You’re already fucking yourself on my cock like you’re my whore – what’s holding you back?”

“You’ll fuck me good if I say yes?”

“Aren’t I already?” To prove a point, Suna thrusts up deep and hard enough that he’s hitting your sweet spot again, a fucked out smile rewarding him afterward.

“But you’re a rude, rude person, Suna, oh, fuck,” Suna pinches your clit that makes you snap your eyes open, a seductive glare sent his way when he teases you. “See what I’m – ugh – talking about?”

“Then I’ll be nice for once,” he promises me, his thrusts growing sloppy as he pushes you over the edge. Your mouth hangs open in a silent, breathy sob – hands gripping at his thighs when the mere slipping of his length past your walls and kissing your cervix with each thrust pushes tears out of your eyes. Suna leans down to sloppily kiss away the tears, jaw clenched as he feels you tighten around him. “Cum for me. I’m allowing you to cum. Maybe I’ll fuck you again when we get home if you’re good enough. Fuck, gonna breed this pussy so good, you’ll be so fucking full.”

Your nails scratches blood moons into his skin, right at the spot that isn’t covered by his shorts anymore. Usually, he’s careful when it comes to markings that could affect his play, but you’re so pretty crying as you cream around his neck that tonight he doesn’t care.

Suna groans as you milk him dry with the way your walls are hallowing and clenching around him, making the tall player fall forward above you on the bed, his cum sputtering inside of you. His groans are deep and so fucking sexy right next to your ear, thumb absentmindedly still rubbing at your clit. You’re both panting as he slowly pulls out, the gush of both your cum dripping all the way down your ass. He snickers at the sight and swoops two fingers down, the heated and hard press of his fingers against your sensitive pussy sending chills everywhere in your body.

You’re about to complain as Suna pushes his cum inside you, but he silences you with a kiss, spreading the cum all around your lips until you’re a complete, sticky mess down there. You grimace at the sensation but Suna is moving beside you the next moment, his arms heavy across your breasts.

You blink when Suna presses affectionate kisses on the blades of your shoulder, wiping the remnants of cum across the sheets before tangling your legs with his. You frown in confusion but turn to him anyway, breathing in that cologne sticking to his skin that you love so much.

“I’m not used to you cuddling me.”

Suna smiles at the crown of your head, shifting lower so he could squish his cheeks at the flesh of your breasts. You watch as his usual bored face lights up happily like a kid with ice cream as he kisses the sides of your breast, hands gentle and delicate in making swirls over your hip. He’s almost...unrecognizable. “You should. This is going to be one of the privileges of dating me.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“You will.”

His declaration is so self assured – as he always is – that you roll your eyes, threading your fingers through his sweat-matted hair. “How are you so sure I even like you back, dummy?”

“Because you’ve got no reason not to,” is all he murmurs on your skin, and well...he isn’t wrong about it, but you scoff anyway, thankful that his eyes are closed so he can’t see your smile. “Now shut up. Just hearing your voice makes me hard again and I don’t think I can go for another round. I’m beat.”

Perhaps...Suna Rintaro wasn’t such a rude boy, after all.

3K notes · View notes

whirlybirbs · 3 years

Text

( this chapter’s gif by @august-walker from this beautiful set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 4/?

summary: you formulate a plan, meet steve rogers, and bucky goes on a date.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.8k, mother of pearl

a/n: this ended up being mostly a filler with a lot of romantic growth - i had to break this chapter up from the unce unce unce clubbing that coming up, so please enjoy!

( PREVIOUSLY | AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT )

MOSCOW, 1975.

In all the years that James Buchanan Barnes has had a heartbeat, he’d come to know the sounds of grief well.

War taught him a lot of things — that they were all just little boys playing with guns, and that no matter how many times you thought you’d be ready for the vomit-inducing pungency of violence, you never were. In the end, you’d do anything to save yourself; you’d crawl through the thick of death and debris a million times over if only to cling to the shredded tatters of your own humanity.

You would kill someone else’s son for the sake of your own mother.

War was disease that devoured every part of you — it was gunpowder snuff and carved flesh. That sickness — inky and desperate — had sunk deep into this heart during the war, and it crescendoed to the sounds of mothers clutching dead sons. The sounds that followed death were like a hollow opera. Waning and wailing.

In the raucous wake left by warborn grief, Bucky drowned everytime.

To the Winter Soldier, the operatic quality to the sounds of grief were as insignificant as a child’s rhyme.

He did not drown. No, he waded through the waves, comfortable in the cold and unphased by the stinging cut of loss. That was not something he could comprehend. After all, there were orders and there were targets, and everything in between was absolute.

He was the disease that devoured all.

He’s holding a gun to Andrei Kuznetzov’s head in a dining room with ornate trim — with silverware as delicate as scalpels that tinker against fine china. The carpets are red, the curtains are red, there’s blood on the table cloth. The guests continue to eat. Kuznetzov’s wife is screaming, red nails dug so deep into the dining chair’s arms it’s carving out the fabric. War dogs, like him, keep her rooted in her seat, and her tears find polished boots. She’s begging and bartering but the man with Kuznetzov’s life in his hands is not listening. He is eating his veal, bloodied meat dancing between his lips. He takes a sip of wine as his medal emblazoned chest glimmers in the light of crystalline chandaliers.

The spoils of war.

His smile is stained red.

There is no deal to be made.

The Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.

NOW.

His eyes are open.

Panic is the first emotion he feels, and it seizes him up quickly in its grasp. He doesn’t know this view, he doesn’t know where he is, not again, not again, not again —

Then:

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know you snore?”

The relief that the sound of your voice brings is immediate, and just like that he remembers. He’s laying on the bed. You’re sat up across from him at that small desk in the corner. He reaches as he rubs his face to thumb the edge of the pillowcase. He exhales tightly.

He’s fine. His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He is not longer the Winter Soldier. He’s in his Brooklyn apartment. He is fine.

When’s the last fucking time he’s slept in a bed?

He sits up, scratching his neck as he does. You lean back, half rotated in the desk. Before you is a mess of papers and his laptop — and on top of the keyboard sits his notebook. It’s open to the page where all he’d been able to figure out about Innessa was scrawled in his chicken scratch.

Bucky swings his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately his back complains.

“How long was I out?” he asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He moves to part the curtains. The room blooms with warm morning light.

You offer an apologetic smile into the vanilla sunshine. “Three hours. I wanted you to get some shut eye. You were starting to look a little overwhelmed last night—”

“You click too fast,” he waves, standing and immediately rolling his neck to the side. You watch as the man, before as peaceful as a sleeping pup, now regains his usual thinning veiled level of threat. Bucky is dangerous — it shows in the way he holds himself. He cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and groans. He exhales again, posture sagging a bit, “I couldn’t keep up.”

You’re standing now, socks padding against the hardwood as you eye his cowlick with a budding bloom of affection. With his notebook between your index and middle finger, you offer it out. You cling to your empty coffee cup in the other.

“I didn’t peek,” you say warmly, “Pinky promise.”

His laugh is more like a hot puff of air. Bucky manages a look that feels like an emotional dethaw.

“Thank you.”

You lead the way to the kitchen, stretching your own back as you go. You’d been up all night — this is your third trip out here for yet another cup of coffee. The pot has been on for too long, though, and you know the coffee sitting there is beyond bitter. You’re moving to dump it down the sink when Bucky grumbles.

“Don’t.”

“You want it?”

“No,” he mutters, reaching for a mug, “But I don’t want to waste it.”

“Wow,” you chirp, “The Great Depression just jumped out.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, yanking open the fridge to search for something to eat, “It does that.”

“Well, grandpa,” you hand him the steaming cup and set out to make another pot, “You’re also living on Depression Era rations — might I suggest some Dolly’s? Because I’m starving and I’ve been up all night and I think that means I get to decide where we get breakfast.”

Bucky’s look is soft — but you don’t see it. You’re too busy scooping sugar into your cup, too busy nudging him aside to grab the milk. He’s rooted there in the kitchen, watching you move about. You’re comfortable. There isn’t a trace of anxiousness in you, not in this moment, and he tries to remember what it looks like.

Your eyes find his and he clears his throat.

“Earth to Sergeant Barnes?”

“Don’t start,” he groans, albeit playfully, “It’s too early.”

“Oh, what? Too early for me to grill you on why you didn’t tell me that little laptop in there was on loan from the FBI? To one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th?”

His face falls.

“Don’t worry,” you raise a hand quickly, leaning against the counter as you sip your coffee, “I figured that out before I did anything massively illegal.”

Bucky rubs his face as he takes a sip of his coffee — the bitterness is enough to slap him awake. He winces, swallows it back, and remembers the taste of instant coffee made in helmets on the line in Bastogne. He can smell snow, and the acrid sting of mortar smoke. Suddenly, he’s craving a cigarette.

That hasn’t happened in a while.

Bucky clears his throat. “Did you find anything?”

You frown slightly, lips pulled as you hide your inward disappointment — you push off from the counter and shake your head as you brush past him. Like a loyal dog, Bucky follows. Into the bedroom you go, and Bucky’s again surprised he managed to get any sleep at all in that bed. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone else there, or the genuine exhaustion that had finally choked him out after hours of trying to understand what the hell you were even doing on there.

You plop into the desk chair and snatch up a piece of paper littered with notes.

“I couldn’t do much of my usual snooping,” you explain gently as you gesture to the chromebook, “This thing might have been given to you in good faith, but they’re watching you pretty closely. So, I worked a little magic and ended up running a virtual machine. Gave me enough wiggle room to avoid the malware and keystroke trackers. Even still, I wanted to be careful, so I just did a little looking.”

“Looking?”

“I can’t dig deeper on Innessa, I know where to dig, but I can’t,” you frown, “Not on this laptop, and definitely not on my personal machines. I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and the files I need to poke are very much off-limits.”

“So, what? We’re shit out of luck?”

“No, not entirely,” you stand up and motion to the paper in your hands; your tone is tight, “I know a few people who can help, but getting to them is going to be the hardest part.”

Bucky takes the paper, squinting at the writing as you settle on the edge of the bed next to him. You take a sip of your coffee and watch as his blue eyes dart across the notes; you point to the name scrawled across the top.

“There’s a club in lower Manhattan, but you’ve gotta know the right people to get in,” you mumble, scratching your cheek as a creeping sense of embarrassment bubbles up behind your words, “It’s in the basement of an old computer repair shop. It’s like a blackhat networking event, but with strippers.”

Bucky squints at the paper and reads the name. “The Glass Cannon?”

“Yeah,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly as you stand, “That’s the one.”

Bucky looks up from the paper, attention now rooted on the pacing you’ve begun to do across the room. Back and forth. You’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, gaze far away. That anxiousless way you’d been holding yourself before is gone. Now, he can see the tensing in your shoulders, in your fingers. You’re suddenly nervous.

Bucky stands. His voice is gentle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you snap almost immediately, “Just, y’know. Worried. I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Did stupid shit. And now I’m about to waltz in after six years like I haven’t put that part of my life behind me.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he says immediately, moving to stand closer and halt your pacing. The invasion of your space forces you to look at him. His fingers glimmering in the morning light. You follow the line of his figure up to his eyes. The emotion there makes your heart clench. You can’t pin it down, and it’s gone in an instant.

“It’s the only way we’re going to find Innessa.”

“You don’t need to put yourself in situations like this for me,” he says, stressing the for me part in both expression and tone. The depreciation makes you wince and you’re fast to shake your head.

“That’s what friends do, Bucky,” you stand your ground, but you know there’s more to your reasoning than that, “Plus, she’s a bad guy. And I know you said I technically wasn’t the sidekick, but—”

“You’re not the sidekick—”

“I know,” you huff, nudging him gently with your arm, “But, I wanna help. Do some good.”

“You do enough good,” he mutters, “You’re a good person.”

Your words fail you at that — and your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Bucky watches with an expression as solid as rock as you blink and look away. His hand, the one of flesh and bone, finds your wrist as you tighten your grip on your mug.

The touch, though far too tender for you to handle, feels like fire.

Like a slap in the face, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky is.

You slap that thought back, trading volleys, and remain quiet.

His tone is stern. “I mean it.”

“Well,” you finally muster, tone dipping sardonically into a cruel peel of humor, “Just wait until you see me in my natural habitat. Maybe the tequila shots will make you second guess that.”

“I didn’t know we were going out drinking,” he chirps as he raises an eyebrow, “Am I going to need to get you a leash?”

“We’re gonna have to try and blend in as best we can. People are going to know me — if they try to pin me with the GRC or the feds, we aren’t going to get anything on Innessa. They probably won’t even let me in the building if they suspect something’s up, after all not everything that goes down in Glass Cannon is kosher.”

“This is already sounding like a bad idea,” Bucky mumbles as he crosses his arms, “I’m stating that for the record, by the way.”

“Well, I think standing around and working ourselves up about this is even worse of an idea,” you chirp back, moving towards the door to muscle on your shoes, “So I say we feed ourselves and don’t worry about this until Thursday night.”

“Thursday.”

You nod.

All of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Today is Sunday.”

You freeze, hand on the doorframe. You shoot him a wide-eyed look at the sudden flare of panic that’s shot up through him. “Yea, Bucky, today is Sunday.”

“Shit.”

“What?” you nearly cry as he disappears into the bedroom once more. You hear his closet open, then a clatter as he grabs something like keys — you nearly run directly into his chest when he strides back into the kitchen. He’s shouldered on his usual leather jacket, and in his hands is another.

He’s got keys in his hand.

“C’mon.”

He shoves the jacket into your arms and you frown.

“What the hell?” you cry, doubling back to snag your phone and bag as Bucky moves to the door, “What is this?”

“Put it on,” he says, holding open the door for you as you follow him into the apartment hallway.

You raise a brow and stand there as he locks the door.

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face as he widens his strides to the stairwell across the hall; before you know it, you’re desperately trying to keep up as he bounces down the steps — light on his feet like the boxer he is — towards the lower level of the apartment complex, “We’re late.”

You groan, trying to shrug on the jacket that smells like Bucky as you follow — a smell you’d come to know as clean laundry and sandalwood. Must be something for his hair. He never wore cologne, that much was apparent. The jacket is big on you, especially on the shoulders. You were swimming in it, trying not to trip as he held the door open to the garage.

Suddenly, the air is cooler. Immediately you wonder how much his rent is if he had access to a ground level garage. Call it NYC instinct.

“Bucky,” you nearly whine, throwing your head back, “Where are we going?”

Before you get a reply, you run straight into his back. Bucky grunts, moving to grab both of your hands and push you to the front of him.

Sitting in the spot is a motorcycle.

It’s a jet black Harley.

Bucky is handing you the helmet on the back seat as your mouth moves in disbelief. “No way— no, I’m not getting on that thing. I’d rather sell my kidneys. Stop, stop — ow, Bucky — you haven’t even said where we’re going!”

He’s muscling the helmet onto your head and through the flash of the visor you can see a real smile, the sort born out of his never-ending amusement towards your fickle sense of humor. His fingers are nimble against your chin. He takes the time to strap it on, adjust it, and give it a gentle tug. Bucky taps the matte black helmet twice, then flicks the visor down.

“We’re going upstate.”

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

It takes two hours to get to Elmwood Senior Living.

You spent the first forty-five minutes clinging to Bucky’s waist with your eyes closed — no fault of Bucky’s, really. It was different from riding in a car by miles, and you had your own qualms with driving. You couldn’t be in the passenger’s seat anymore. Not after the accident with Jaimie, when Mom disappeared. Being out of control made you itch; and it’s not until the fifty-minute mark that you ease up on the panic and remember who the man is that’s driving the bike.

You trust Bucky. You trust him with your life.

Once it’s open road, winding up towards the Northern part of the state, it gets easier.

Bucky can feel your grip around his waist loosen just a bit — and it’s enough reassurance that he stops looking back in the mirror every fifteen seconds. It’s enough permission to open up on the throttle, and the bike roars alive. Your immediate reaction is a gobsmacked yelp, the sort that’s pulled from a jolt of shock, but then comes the laugh.

Bucky’s own quiet chuckle rumbles against your chest. You hold on tighter, but this time with open palms against the thrum of his ribs.

Halfway through the trip, he pulls into a McDonald’s.

You drop your ass onto the parking lot’s curb as he leans against the bike and houses a burger. You laugh, eyeing him candidly as you take a large bite from your own lunch. Bucky is a mess with it — cursing quietly when he ends up getting ketchup on his jacket.

“Shit.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mutter, “Did you even taste that thing?”

“Barely,” he clears his throat and starts picking at his fries, “These things taste different now. First time I ever had McDonald’s was right before bootcamp.”

“How much was it? Five cents?” you snort, leaning back and dropping a fry into your mouth.

Bucky watches with a half-smirk. “Fifteen, but nice try.”

He spends the next five minutes on his hand with a wet nap, trying hard to get the grease out of the delicate plates along his palm. You watch, as you knock back the rest of your soda, as his eyes crinkle tightly in frustration. His mouth is pulled tightly into a fine line. For the second time today, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky Barnes is — and how fucking stubborn he is, too.

“Want help?”

“No,” he mutters, trying to get a spot between his thumb and index finger, “I got it.”

“I have smaller fingers,” you sing-song, gathering up his trash and your trash and crossing the parking lot to the bin; upon returning, you waggle them in his face, “Good for hard to reach places.”

Bucky absolutely hates that can feel his blush hit the tips of his ears at the comment.

He’s glad you’re too preoccupied with his hand to notice. You’re watching, like you always do, with respectful awe. To you, this part of him is a bit like a treasure — you find it beautiful and intriguing and incredible. It’s clear in the way you watch the mechanisms turn and tighten that you aren’t frightened by it.

It unsettles Bucky every time.

Finally, once he’s finished under your watchful eyes, he leans to muscle that helmet back over your head. You groan, squinting tightly.

“C’mon,” he knocks your helmet with his knuckles, “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the ride is wide open space, farm land and mountainous peaks looming far ahead. It’s warm, and the sun is hot on your back. The wind is howling around you and it sends your jacket collar flapping against your neck. Your chin rests neatly on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get a view of the road ahead.

Elmwood Senior Living is tucked into the back of a suburb.

The two of you weave through a neighborhood or two, dancing under the shade of age old maple trees. They cast long, scattered shadows across the pavement as kids play on their lawns. A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Over the hill, church bells ring. Sunday service has ended.

Bucky rolls into the parking lot, past the large sign with swirling lettering. Suddenly, things make more sense. Suddenly, you’re struck with a sinking feeling of grief. Nostalgia. Mourning. But, happiness.

There are folks sitting outside, basking in the sun, tethered to walkers.

Bucky’s wrists crank back weathered knuckles, and slowly the bike rumbles into an open spot. Extending his legs, Bucky balances the bike with ease. You take that as your cue to swing yourself off the back clumsily, hopping a bit. Bucky leans, kicks the stand down, and with significantly more grace than you, swings his leg over.

You’re shrugging his jacket off when he speaks.

“He’s going to be different than how you imagine him.”

You exhale slowly, draping the jacket over the bike’s seat. You peel the helmet off.

“I’ve sort of pieced that together.”

You can see the slight discomfort hanging in his posture. You reach and touch Bucky’s arm.

“Come on,” you nod to the entrance, covered by a shady overhang where someone is helping a family member out of their car, “We don’t wanna be late, huh?”

His eyes soften. Bucky nods.

You walk side-by-side into the lobby of Elmwood Senior Living and it’s like time slows down. It halts in a warm, sunshine colored still — full of chatter, full of humanity, full of wisdom. The room is framed by big windows, by plants, by a man in a U.S. Navy ball cap. He’s stationed by the door, watching the comings and goings. The main desk, where a young woman watches, sits in the corner. You follow Bucky with a content little look. He notices.

He stands a little closer at the main desk. The girl, who looks like she’s incredibly out of place with her blue hair and piercings, is younger than you thought. Highschool, maybe. She offers Bucky an excited smile.

“Took you long enough,” she chirps, moving to sort through a bin to her side with key fobs.

Your brows raise. You spy calculus homework on the desk.

Bucky snorts. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He notices the same problem set you so, and purposely leans over the desk. Suddenly, you’re seeing flashes of a more boyish version of Bucky — one that reminds you of a man with siblings. Bucky taps the paper, jutting a chin to the girl as she tries to swat his attention away.

“How’d you do on that test?”

“I got a 96,” she chirps pridefully, laughing, “Thanks for the help, nerd.”

You’re watching the entire exchange with a smile, backing up a bit to toss a curious glance over your shoulder. There’s a dining room through open doors — and looks like lunch is just wrapping up. Folks are moving around, back to their rooms or upstairs where you can hear the beginnings of a seated aerobics class begin.

Bucky nudges you with his hand.

“Thanks, Sarah,” he says and waves the key she’d handed over.

The girl with the blue hair scoffs. “Say hi to grandpa for me, Bucket.”

You laugh out loud as Bucky quickly flips her off. She’s quick to do the same.

You follow him around the corner, grinning ear to ear. He spares you a sheepish look, then rolls his eyes.

“What was that?”

“She’s a good kid,” he offers, eyeing the key with the grey little fob attached, “Reminds me of my sister.”

Your face softens. “Sister?”

“Her name was Sarah, too,” he says quietly, boots landing softly on the blue carpet. He’s navigating the residential wing like he’s done it a million times. There are rooms with flowers outside, with holiday garb, with little photos and keepsakes. Each room holds a lifetime of personality — the sound of Jeopardy lulls along in the background.

You hum. Bucky sighs.

He meanders down a long hallway where a different door is — this one heavy and locked by the little keypad. Bucky raises the key fob to the device and the door buzzes.

This side of Elmwood is quieter.

Down the hall, Timmy Dorsey and Sinatra play quietly over someone’s record player.

There aren’t as many folks in the hall in this wing, but doors are open and nurses flit about. Around the corner, there’s a loud conversation going on about lunch — and you watch as Bucky weaves towards the nursing station. It’s a room overlooking the common area with windows. Inside are three women.

One of them immediately jumps when she sees Bucky.

“Oh, good! I was meaning to talk to you—”

“Everything alright?”

“About the same,” she breathes as she stands, moving to grab at a Bucky’s arm with a sense of motherliness that makes you smile, “But, meals have been a bit difficult lately.”

“No kidding,” he mutters, rubbing his chin, “He just doesn’t wanna eat?”

“He thinks Peggy is coming home,” the woman whispers with a pained smile as she begins to lead you both down the hall, “He thinks your grandmother made dinner for him.”

“Right,” Bucky nods, “Doesn’t wanna ruin his appetite.”

“Exactly.”

You take note of the conversation, muddling through your own confusion. You’re quiet, though. This isn’t really your conversation to have. Bucky seems to be relaxed more — even humming slightly to a song that plays across the hall from the room the nurse is knocking on.

“Mr. Carter?” she calls gently, “Your grandson is here to see you, and his…”

She looks expectantly at you. You bawk.

“Friend.”

“Right,” she smiles and pushes open the door.

It’s like a little slice of home.

Sofas, chairs, photos on the walls. There’s a record player in the corner, a television, a coffee table stacked with books on the second world war. There’s a dresser covered in baubles and warm light coming in from the window overlooking the street. It reminds you of your grandparents’ sitting room — everything looks so lived in, so comfortable, so alive.

And then, below the light of the window, is a hospital bed.

In it is Steve Rogers.

Not the one you know — no, this one has lived a full life. This Steve Rogers has fallen in love, owned a home, settled down. This Steve Rogers has years of wisdom settled into his face, years of well-fought fights in his joints. His blonde hair has gone shock white, but his smile is all the same.

“Bucky.”

The way Steve says his name is like the man beside you holds the world.

To Bucky, he can hear a new weakness. A new exhaustion.

“Hi, punk.”

The nurse offers a little wave to you as Bucky ventures into the room, stripping his jacket off and moving to scope out the minifridge in the small kitchenette beside the bathroom. She leaves the door open, and you smile to her softly. Bucky rummages, poking his head up.

“You want a drink, Steve?” he asks, tone almost like he’s feeling out the lucidity of the man across the room, “There’s some of that lemonade I brought last week in here.”

“Sounds good,” he says slowly, “Please.”

You feel out of place — not unwelcome, but… it’s clear that Bucky has come and gone from here a thousand times now. He knows to get the glasses out, to get a straw, to turn down the record player on his way over. Doris Day’s voice lowers to a soft croon. You watch with heavy eyes.

“I brought someone, Steve,” Bucky says, “She’s a big fan.”

“Oh?” Steve asks with a slow look to the corner where you’re standing, “That musta broke your heart.”

Bucky snorts as he moves to swing the hospital bed’s tray over Steve’s lap. He places the lemonade down, then the other glass on the nightstand. He’s quick to move the armchair closer to the nightstand, and gestures for you to come over. Bucky’s hands guide you by the shoulders as he plops you into the chair.

“She’s one of the good ones,” Bucky says, “Reminds me of you.”

“No kidding,” Steve says slowly, offering a hand that shakes, “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure.”

You exchange your name with a shy look, shaking that hand with reverence and gentility. “It’s an honor, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please,” he mumbles, moving to slowly take a sip of his lemonade, “Steve is fine.”

Bucky moves to take up a post on the opposite side of Steve, in the sun. “You’re losin’ weight, y’know.”

That earns him a wave of the hand.

Bucky leans back and sips his lemonade. He waggles a finger and you watch the two begin to go back and forth.

“No, no,” he swallows, “No, you don’t get t’ shrug me off—”

“M’fine, Buck,” a sigh, “Really.”

“Mhm,” he narrows his eyes, “You’re startin’ to look like the Steve I knew before the serum.”

You lean back, hiding a quiet smirk behind your hand.

“I was wondering when you were gonna show up an’ pester me,” he says with a tired look, “The only peace I get around here is when Peggy comes home.”

Your eyes jump to Bucky. He’s watching you.

“Peggy?” you ask gently, “Is that your wife?”

A proud smile washes over his face. “Still knocks me for a loop, too.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is gentle, “Peggy won’t be coming around for a while. Remember?”

There’s a look that flashes across Steve’s face, then. A mixture of sadness, of confusion, of panic. It’s clouded with a furrow of his brow, hidden by a tilt of the head. He looks at Bucky, mouth pulled in a fine line.

When he finally speaks, his voice is sad.

“That’s right. I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Bucky taps his head, maintaining an air of nonchalance, “That’s why you got me.”

“And why you’ve got her, no doubt,” he turns to you with a winning smile and offers his hand again, “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, you shake it, and you introduce yourself once more. Your smile is patient and understanding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve smiles, tossing Bucky a look that borders on mischievous.

He sips his lemonade and clears his throat. “How is Sam?”

“You ask every time,” Bucky mutters, “And every time I have the same answer.”

“Sam?” you ask slowly.

“Wilson,” Bucky finishes, “Bird man.”

“You mean Falcon,” you correct, shooting him a stern look, “The Falcon. Are you ghosting The Falcon?”

“I don’t know what that even means, so maybe,” Bucky leans back and crosses his legs, “I’ve been busy.”

You roll your eyes. Steve saw. He smiles.

“I’m gettin’ why he keeps you around.”

Your face is smacked with a look of pure joy.

“C’mon on now,” Bucky cries, nearly indignantly, “No flirting—”

“M’ not flirting—”

“I know that look, Steve—”

Steve is laughing.

Bucky has a stern look in his eye. “You always do this—”

“I’m not doin’ a damn thing—”

“And you better keep it that way, old man,” Bucky shirks, voice splintering into a laugh in a way that you’ve never heard before, “I swear, this is how it always goes.”

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Buck?” you ask gently, leaning your cheek into your hand.

Steve laughs loudly at that.

Bucky spares you a smile — the sort that’s drenched in good humor and sunlight. It makes your lungs flutter, and you ignore the buzz in your fingers at the sight. You hide your laugh into your cup of lemonade, resigning to be a quiet counterpart in the conversation.

The two of them go on to chat about small things, then chat about old things. From the Commandos, to HYDRA, to amends, to therapy, to Peggy, to the itch the starch of their old dress uniforms used to bring. It takes a bit, a few redirections on the way, but it’s clear by the end why Steve Rogers is in Elmwood’s memory unit.

It makes your heart ache.

And if a super soldier is bed-ridden…

The two of you say goodbye around three in the afternoon after Bucky helps Steve shave.

The walk back to the bike is quiet.

Bucky speaks first.

“He’s dying.”

You chew your lip, eyes on the pavement. You match his slow stride, bumping your elbow with his as you walk. It’s still warm, and the clouds hang high in the sky. When you look up, Bucky’s watching you. You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muster, “I am.”

“Don’t be,” he says, grabbing the jacket from the seat and holding it up, “He’s lived a long life.”

You let Bucky hold out the arm for you, and you press your hand through the sleeve. He helps the other side on, and you zip it up to your chin. When you turn around to face him, there are tears in your eyes.

They snuck up on you. You hadn’t realized it until Bucky’s face fell, until the first one fell along the weathered leather of the jacket. You blink, raising your brows as you swipe them away, and offer an apologetic look.

“I’m happy,” you say, “Y’know. He has you. But, he’s a man out of time. Even now. That makes me sad.”

Bucky’s quiet for a while. He’s leaned up against the bike as you turn and watch Elmwood from the back of the parking lot. There’s a big part of you that feels heavy with guilt — and though Steve was in good spirits when you left, you can’t help but ache to provide him with more company. It’s clear that seeing Bucky means a lot to him, and that in turn it means a lot to the man beside you.

“Come on,” Bucky says then, “Let’s go home.”

You nod, let him muscle that helmet onto your head one more time, and hold on a little tighter back to the city.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

You don’t see Bucky until Tuesday.

In all honesty, it feels weird to not hear from him for two days. At the very least, you expected some sort of phone call — but you remind yourself that you’ve been okay alone for a long time. There’s no need to throw all your work on being comfortable by yourself out the window for Bucky Barnes.

It’s tempting, though. God, it’s really tempting.

You hate the ache in your chest when you finally see him lumbering towards the cafe counter before your appointments. You hate this new feeling — so you shove it down and ignore the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you your latte.

He is ignoring it, too. He’s been ignoring it.

No use in thinking about it though.

“You got plans later?” you ask him in the elevator after your appointment, tilting your head, “Apparently there’s a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight on FX.”

Bucky stiffens — and immediately he can feel the hot sting of anxious regret flood his cheeks. He clears his throat, tucks his hands in his pockets, and toes the ground. You watch with a confused look. Then he speaks tightly.

“...I’ve got a date.”

You could have caught flies the way your jaw fell open.

“Oh. Oh!”

You blink, readjust your expression, and swallow down a sharp stab of rejection.

Bucky clears his throat. “It’s… I wasn’t going to but, Dr. Raynor—”

“No, no,” you wave your hands and shake your head and try to seem genuine, “No, I’m happy for you. Is this one of those Christian Minglers?”

Bucky groans. “Shut up.”

“Okay,” you say, “Okay! Just, uh, be careful. Y’know? And call if you need anything.”

The elevator doors open, and Bucky walks side by side with you through the well-lit lobby. He holds the door open for you, and you pass through with a pained look at the ground. He lingers, though, rubbing the back of his neck as you wait for him to say what’s on his mind.

“Thursday,” he says, “I’ll stop by.”

“Yea,” you say, waving your hand, “Whenever.”

But, that doesn’t end up happening.

No, Bucky Barnes shows up at your apartment doorstep at 10pm.

He’s clutching takeout and a six pack of beer and wearing a horrified expression that screams of guilt and exhaustion. No, Bucky buzzes the door to your apartment and basically croaks that he’s here — he’s asking if the marathon is still on while you buzz him up.

“Third floor,” you say into the buzzer with a smile, “Come on in, old man.”

When you open the door, you have to laugh — because his hair is a mess and there’s still a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Whereas jealousy threatens to flare, his incredibly regretful expression tamps it down. You cock a hip, eye him up and down, and jut your chin out.

“Get laid?”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he didn’t break something.

He pushes past you, moving to drop the beer on the counter and place the takeout gently down by the basket of fruit.

“I’m here for the cat,” he grumbles, “Not your witty commentary, sweetheart.”

You’re moving quietly to the sink and gathering a paper towel with a smirk as Bucky looks around, admiring the decor and aliveness of your apartment. When you turn around, he’s already pried a beer from the pack and popped the top off with his vibranium palm.

He winces when you reach up to swipe the coral lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

Then Bucky settles, letting you clean off the mess.

“Mhm,” you hum, “Right. Was it at least fun?”

“She had fun,” he mutters into his first sip, “It was a lotta tongue for my first night out in nearly a century, though.”

You wince. He nods with a sardonic smile that tells you everything about how the date went down — and you’re relieved. “So, I take it you're not calling her in the morning?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “Nope. No, and I’ve decided no more dates. That was enough for me.”

You wince and pluck a beer from the pack. Wordlessly, Bucky gestures for you to hand it over. In one smooth motion, he twists the cap off with his hand.

“That bad?” you ask, eyeing him critically.

“I decided halfway through,” he says as he moves to take the takeout from its bag, “I’d rather be watching Lord of the Rings with you.”

That stops you into silence. It’s like someone’s taken your own words and gagged you with them — and you’re left floundering for breath you never even realize you lost. You know he means it. You know it because he won’t look at you, because that sort of confession isn’t easy for people like you two. So you take those words and you glue them in a lonely locket and keep them close to your heart.

Poke’s entrance saves you a mouthful of broken words — he comes in, trots up to Bucky, and hollers.

Bucky laughs.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he mutters, eyeing the cat that’s eagerly rubbing himself along Bucky’s leg.

You wipe your face, sip your beer, and move to the pantry across from the kitchen island. You come back out with a bag of salmon treats — the good ones — and offer Bucky the bag. He takes it, eyes still on the calico, and crinkles it a little.

You lean against the counter and watch Bucky kneel.

“If you keep it up long enough he might even let you hold him.”

He lights up at that.

You laugh.

You move to grab plates and forks and knives and groan when you open up the first box to see Pad Thai — you make a mental note to properly thank Bucky for this. You meager dinner of reheated pasta really hadn’t hit the spot. This will, though. You can tell from the smell alone.

By your knees, Poke chirps.

“He’s cute.”

“I never took you for a cat guy.”

Bucky snorts.

You make a plate and flick his head as you walk by. “You’re missing the start of The Two Towers.”

“I’m going to be confused, aren’t I?” he asks as he stands and begins making himself a plate. He watches as you settle onto the couch and sip your beer, “I was too busy being turned into a cyborg to read the books.”

You laugh out loud. It shocks you.

“Was that a joke? Did Bucky Barnes just make a joke?”

He’s smirking. He rounds the counter with his food and settles next to you. Poke is following him, eager to curl up next to his new friend.

“I can be funny.”

“Funny lookin’.”

He elbows you on purpose. You snort into your beer.

There’s a comfortable moment of quiet between you, and you clear your throat.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “No problem.”

More quiet, and he’s still watching you. Then, he asks what’s been on his mind for the last three days.

“You got a plan for Thursday?”

“I’ve got anxiety, Buck,” you exhale, swigging your beer and turning the television up, “I always have a plan.”

#vacant mirrors #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier imagine #tfatws imagine #marvel imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #bucky/reader

1K notes · View notes

space-mermaid-writing · 2 years

Text

The Anchor - Chapter 4 [Doctor Strange x Reader]

Summary: Every Sorcerer Supreme has an anchor. Someone whose magic is compatible with theirs, ensures that he is additionally protected and prevents him from falling prey to evil forces. You grew up in Kamar-Taj and studied the Mystic Arts there, but then you traveled the world looking for a more quiet life, a life away from magic and superheroes. When you return and meet the new Sorcerer Supreme, it soon becomes clear that you share a special connection.

Tags: Slow Burn, Reader is a master of the Mystic Arts, Magic!Reader, spells and magic, this is a cute one

Read it on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter's Notes: The plot has arrived. Also you have a scary pet. You're welcome. Beta by @portia77. Thanks! :)

Chapter 4: The revelation of the Anchor

It is late evening when Stephen Strange steps out of one of the main temples of Kamar-Taj and heads for the library. He had a meeting with the masters of the other two sanctums about new, advanced spells that would be useful for protecting temples. Master Minoru from Hong Kong had developed a very effective method, which she shared with the other masters.

In a way, the Mystic Arts are little different from other sciences: there is research, development, sharing. There is progress and change. Strange likes these aspects because they are familiar to him. He wants to research more about this new method and discover his own thoughts on it.

That's when he notices a now familiar figure disappearing down a narrow alley between two buildings. It's a little strange, because there's nothing back there. No training grounds, no study room, not even a hidden garden.

Curious, since he still knows so little about the new sorceress, he follows her in secret.

The alley leads between the buildings to a deserted courtyard. There are a few dumped or forgotten things lying around by the walls of the house, including a rusty barrel and some broken, wooden boxes.

You don't seem to mind the junk, at least you don't pay any attention to it. Instead, you simply stand in the middle of the courtyard and start a ritual.

Now Strange is even more curious about what you are doing here.

In the air around you, a twirling, glowing circle appears, slowly sinks to the ground, and then begins to spin. Dark smoke rises with a faint scent of sulfur.

You lower your hands and look around, but nothing seems to have happened. This is equally disappointing to both you and your unseen bystander.

You see that the circle on the floor hasn't disappeared yet. Maybe you just need to wait a bit. So you sit down and start meditating.

You must have fallen asleep, because when you blink, you realize it's the middle of the night. The sky is dark and the courtyard is unlit. Your limbs are quite stiff, and you are tilted uncomfortably to one side. Only your head is resting on something soft.

You lift the darkness by creating a luminous sphere in the air.

Next to you, you hear an animalistic growl. It comes from Callum, who has draped himself next to you and is now complaining about the sudden light. But now that you're awake, he straightens up and rises.

Callum is a Levion, which is a pretty name for a rather fearsome creature.

It is about the size of a horse, but has the shape of a greyhound with a broad chest and narrow flanks. The four long, slender legs end in paws with sharp claws. It also has two more very short arms on its chest, near the front legs, with finger-like claws that like to steal treats from your pocket.

The neck of the Levion is relatively wide, and the head almost dragon-like. Yellow eyes, pointy teeth, and a long, rough tongue. His short fur has various shades of dark gray.

Right now, he's giving you the cold shoulder and turning away from you in a huff. For far too long you've neglected him, and he resents that.

"Hey Cal, glad you waited," you speak to him. "I brought you some treats."

You reach into your bag, but it's empty. Levion already looted it. You grin and summon a bag of fresh meat that you bought earlier for him.

"Look what I’ve got here."

You wave the food in his direction, and he turns his head as he catches the scent. With an outstretched arm, you offer it to him. And since Callum is just always hungry, he allows himself to be coaxed and sticks his snout into the bag.

Now that he's distracted, you step a little closer to his side and pat him gently on the neck.

"Good boy. You'll forgive me, won't you? I promise we'll see more of each other now, and we'll go for rides again, alright?"

Callum nudges you with his bloody muzzle, sniffing to see if you've brought any more for him.

Unfortunately, no.

He snuggles up to you anyway, now showing his delight at seeing you. In return, you scratch him behind his slender ears.

Since it's the middle of the night, you soon send him back to his own world and open a portal to New York for yourself.

It's only late afternoon there and you decide to have a bite to eat and then read a bit before it's time for bed again.

Before you reach the kitchen, however, Dr. Strange steps into your path, arms folded.

"What is your relationship to the dark dimension?"

Somewhat confused by this incoherent question and his dismissive attitude, you stop.

"What?"

"You heard me. What's your deal with it?"

You frown, wondering what this is all about. Your hesitation is obviously making him impatient.

"You have summoned a creature from the Dark Dimension into our world."

You understand now, though you still don't know where he got his information from.

"You mean Callum? He's my Levion."

"He’s what now?"

Strange doesn't look thrilled. You take a step past him.

"I'll explain over dinner. You hungry?"

He shakes his head, so you just put on tea for two and grab some of the leftovers from the fridge. As the two of you sit at the table, you begin to explain.

"When I was younger, I once visited another dimension.... I forget the name, but it wasn't the Dark Dimension... Anyway, we went there because we’d heard about someone who supposedly collects creatures from all kinds of worlds. Not in a nice way, though. You probably know that's not really our job, but it was clear that he had no control over some of his pets. Especially not the more dangerous ones. Hey, did you know that basilisks should only be kept as pairs?… So, we eventually took care of it – unofficially– and transported his pets back to their homes. At least, we did for the ones that were possible. That’s when I found Callum in a box. Levions are rather aggressive, but he was still so small, and I felt sorry for him. We couldn’t search for a pack for him, because we couldn’t enter the Dark Dimension, of course. So I raised him somewhere else."

Strange listens in disbelief.

"And you thought that was a good idea?"

"I was young. And Callum turned out quite well."

When the masters had found out about him, there had been a huge fuss. But you were able to convince at least some of them that your Levion was tame. And you got permission to keep him until he was able to survive on his own. Of course, there were rules and strict supervision, but somehow you two had it made.

"Don't worry. I'm not allowed to summon him in cities or residential areas. Kamar-Taj is the exception - and that, too, is only outdoors, where he can't destroy anything."

"I don’t see how that won’t worry me!"

Strange continues to be skeptical. The memories of the dark dimension in connection with Kaecilius are too fresh, the experience too drastic.

He’ll definitely keep an eye on your Levion. And on you, too.

You sit in the small library of the New York Sanctum, flipping through a few books that contain stories about various magical relics. You suspect that some of the events described are either exaggerated or pure fiction, because they read like ancient heroic sagas. But they are entertaining. And there is always a grain of truth in such things.

After a while, you're so lost in reading that you don't even notice someone else walking among the shelves.

Suddenly, a hand touches your shoulder and sends a jolt of electrical energy through your body. With a scream, you jump up and spin around, knocking over your chair.

In front of you is Strange, who has taken a few steps back and looks as startled as you. Between your shoulder and his glove stretches some sort of magical chain.

"What the hell?”

You look at him, bewildered.

"What are you doing?"

He moves his arm, trying to shake off the chain, but it doesn't work.

"It wasn't me," he exclaims, looking around to see if someone else played a prank on you. But there’s no one in sight.

"I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen the work from T'mith on linguistics. It's not on the shelf."

You try to remove the chain with a dissolve spell, but to no avail.

"Yeah, it's in my room. I can give it to you as soon as we solve this problem here."

You take a few steps away from Strange and notice that the chain is getting longer doing so.

You've never seen anything like it before.

Meanwhile, Wong has entered, unnoticed by the two of you, looking for the cause of the noise. At the sight of you, a surprised "Oh" escapes him, causing you to turn and face him. "This is unexpected."

"You know what it is?" Strange follows up and Wong nods.

"I was expecting it later, though."

He steps between the shelves and seems to be looking for a specific book.

"Every Sorcerer Supreme has an Anchor," he explains as he searches. "The Anchor keeps his power and influence under control. It connects him to the ground, so to speak, so he doesn't drift away."

"This is the first time I've ever heard of this." You frown while Stephen crosses his arms.

"I think I would know if I carried an anchor around with me."

Wong returns with a plain, cloth-bound book.

"I assume you touched each other, and then this happened?" he asks.

"I tapped her shoulder."

Wong flips through the pages until he finds what he's looking for and perks up.

"You're his Anchor."

"What?" you and Strange say at the same time.

"Couldn't you touch someone else?" you add.

"No one told me that such a thing was possible."

Wong pushes the book toward you.

“He has no control over it. The Sorcerer Supreme's magic automatically responds to the one that's most compatible with it. Here," he taps the open page. "This should make the chain disappear."

You read through the text briefly and perform a rather simple gesture. Strange does the same, and the link between you dissolves.

"I still don't understand," you shake your head. "Why haven't I heard about this before? Did the Ancient One also have a connection like this?"

"The anchor of the elders died a long time ago, and no new one had revealed itself."

You put the fallen chair back in place and sit down. That was quite a lot of information at once.

"What does that mean now? I mean..."

You point between Strange and yourself.

"I'd like to know that, too," he agrees. "I mean, I don't mind having someone work for me, but I'd rather be able to choose the person myself."

"I'm certainly not going to be your employee."

Wong closes the book.

"Well, there is a ritual to break the bond. But after that, you should have no contact until a new Anchor is revealed. Otherwise, the same thing may happen again."

"Thanks, once is enough."

Stephen rubbed his hand from which the pulse had started.

For a moment he had felt like being back to his accident. The pain had spread similarly. But while it had lingered then, now he feels only the echo of it.

He reaches for the book to delve further into the subject, but you're quicker and take it.

"Hey!" he hisses.

"The Anchor wants to read this," you reply. "I guess since you have your title a little longer, you won't mind if you read it after me."

For a moment it looks like Strange is about to object, but he remains silent.

"Think about it," Wong advises. "The magic chose you for a reason. But the ritual is also an option, if that's what you really want."

You merely nod, then take your leave and go back to your room. There are some things you need to think about. And you need to start reading that book.

Once you were a candidate as the next Sorcerer Supreme yourself. It’s hard to believe you don’t know about Anchors.

According to the book, every leader of the Mystic Arts has one. The magic of the two connect in ways that are not visible.For example, one can find out where the other is or if they are in danger. In some cases, however, this is only one-sided and mostly affects the Anchor.

The main point is that the Sorcerer Supreme is additionally protected in his task of keeping the world and various parallel dimensions in peace. And furthermore, it should prevent him from falling prey to evil.

To do so, his magic chooses a suitable counterpart for the Sorcerer Supreme. And when the two come into contact, something like between you and Strange happens.

The chain between you is now permanent, but not always visible.

You’re not fond of the idea. You like having your freedom, that's why you left Kamar-Taj back then, and now you're feeling like hanging on a leash. Sure, you had decided to come back for now, maybe to teach, but this new responsibility is more than binding.

On the other hand, as Wong said, there is a ritual to dissolve the chain. You turn to the last chapter. It's quite complicated and even requires a little blood from the partners - but this is a safety measure so that no outside third party can simply cut the connection.

With a sigh, you close the book and decide to go to bed.

You won’t make any decisions for today.

#The Anchor #Doctor Strange X reader #Stephen Strange X Reader #Doctor Strange #Stephen Strange #MCU #Marvel #Magic!Reader #Mystic Arts #my writing #Writing in space #SpaceMermaid writing #anchor #pet #levion #callum #dark dimension #tension

127 notes · View notes

streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Till I Met You Again

Summary: Everyone is born with a life already planned out for them. Including their soulmates. Except, every person walking this earth has been given a specific soulmate marking that was similar to a tattoo to match their soulmate’s. The ink is invisible when one is born. To activate the soulmate marking, one has to be at least in a 20 feet radius to their designated soulmate. But of course, they wouldn’t know it until they start to notice the ink slowly appearing on their skin.

Theme: soulmate au, university au, enemies to lovers

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning: mild cursing

WC: 10k

Pairing: Soulmate!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I kinda got too carried away in writing this one the other day, hence the word count for this is... woah. Hehe. But anyways, here's a soulmate au for you Min Yoongi lovers <3

Every person who was born into this earth has their life journey already written out for them in which it unfortunately remains a secret from them. And these living souls have been entitled to a soulmate that would potentially cross their path in the near future. Everyone is made for someone and the tattoo on their skin otherwise known as a ‘soulmate marking’ determines it for them.

The soulmate marking is nothing far from a tattoo as it imprints on your skin for eternity.

However, these markings will already be on you the minute you were born. Except, the ink will be invisible to the human eye.

But it’s definitely there. The only way to activate the marking is when one happens to be of 20 foot radius with their designated soulmate. This will cause the ink to start slowly appearing on one’s skin. Even so, these markings will start only when one has reached the age of 14. Only then will the ink start to be visible to one’s eye.

Unfortunately, until now when you’re already past 20 years of age, not a single tinge of ink was displayed on your skin. You’ve checked everywhere on your body. From your fingertips to your toes.

Nothing.

You weren’t really one who purely believed in this whole soulmate thing simply because you felt that there’s no such thing as a fixed soulmate. You should be free to choose who you want as your partner purely through interactions and chemistry you shared with the other, not by some marking on your skin. Your parents had a matching mark on their right wrists which was a simple rose in a glass jar.

No doubt you admired their love story and how they met, but you couldn’t see it for yourself. You really don’t want to fully depend on this supposed marking. Even when you went off to college, you’ve made it a point to try and go on dates no matter what their soulmate markings would be.

But it all turned out with the same ending. Either the guy dumps you for not having the same mark or they ghost you after the first date, saying you’re too good for them. All these never led to a heartbreak on your end because you were never in love to begin with.

You were simply trying your luck, trying to see if you’d find a single soul who was just as sceptical as you on this whole soulmate thing.

And so far, you’ve met none.

It was the start of university life for you as you’ve managed to enrol yourself for a Computer Science major in Hangang University. You took the same course during college, having interest in web design and computer technologies. You could only hope that the study load this time would give you a mental break every once in a while despite knowing the content is definitely heavier than college content.

But you still told yourself to persevere and never leave your knowledge hanging while you’re still young. With this mentality, you brought yourself to campus today for day one of university classes.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door to the specific lecture room for the first lesson.

Immediately, you were greeted by a room that had the majority of the students’ gender being males. But it wasn’t a surprise to you because CS majors tend to lean more towards males instead of females. This doesn’t bother you since you were here solely to study and perhaps make friends along the way.

You found an empty seat in the top last few rows. With careful steps, you climbed the stairs to make your way to the spot you had your eyes locked on. After you’ve settled down, you noted how the room was fairly quiet.

Probably because it was the first day of classes and nobody really knows each other yet. That was all pushed to the back of your mind when you heard chatting coming from the front door and you saw 2 friends walk in. It was pretty obvious they knew each other considering how they were laughing and talking freely to one another.

As you kept your curious gaze on them discreetly, you could only realise how good looking they were.

The taller one sported beautiful dark brown locks that were long enough to cover his eyes, his smile so charming you were sure anyone who crossed his path would fall for his smile in less than a second. And then there was the other one who sported a more edgy look with his shorter dark purple, undercut hair that was parted near the centre to show his forehead, a right eyebrow piercing to compliment his face.

You quickly diverted your gaze to your laptop screen, not wanting them to think you’re a creep. You were busy searching for the e-books for this lesson in your online school portal when you heard a gentle voice calling to you from your right.

“Hey, are these seats taken?”

You looked up to see the one with the eyebrow piercing staring at you with the softest smile on his face.

In response to his question, you simply mimicked his facial expression and shook your head at him. He thanked you quietly before the 2 of them settled down beside you down the row. They resumed their conversation for the next 3 minutes before the lecturer walked in to start the class.

Two hours later, you don’t even know how you managed to absorb the things your lecturer said but you did. You were typing out the notes he shared on the projector screen when you heard his voice through the speakers.

“I will let you go for your lunch break. Be back by 1pm, here. You can leave your bags behind since I will be locking the room once everyone leaves.”

With that, your classmates replied with a series of yes before they got up one by one ready to head for lunch. You were just typing out the last of your notes when the boy beside you spoke up. At first you thought he was talking to his friend. You completely missed the way he was turned to you.

Until he gently taps onto your forearm to tell you that his question was directed to you. With a turn of your head, you locked eyes with him for the second time that day. “H-Huh?” You stuttered, earning a stifled chuckle from him.

“I was saying, do you wanna join me and my friends for lunch? We’re already sharing classes, might as well get to know each other to prepare for future projects or assignments.” He kindly repeated himself for you, making you whisper a soft ‘oh’ under your breath.

It wasn’t like you to approach someone first when it comes to striking a conversation with a complete stranger. So when he did it for you, it surprised you that he even thought of letting you tag along with them to lunch. For this alone, you decided to accept his offer knowing he does have a point for that last statement.

With that being said, the three of you left the lecture room after bringing your wallets with you. You quietly followed beside the brown haired one as they immediately opened a topic for their conversation.

You were just checking your phone for the texts sent from your mom in your family group chat when a voice spoke up, addressing you directly.

“What’s your name?” You glance up to catch the one who asked the question was the brown haired one, as the purple haired one was already looking at you but it wasn’t intimidating in any way. So you found it easy to reply to them.

“Y/N.” You said as they all nodded only for the boy beside you to speak up. “Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Taehyung. This is Jungkook.”

And so you know.

After almost 10 minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the cafeteria located on the other side of campus from where you originally were. The cafeteria was filled with hungry students and occupied tables. This wasn’t something new but at times like these, you’d rather bring your own food and sit somewhere that’s less crowded and bustling.

Just when you were about to excuse yourself and get a take out instead, Taehyung’s voice sounded from beside you, “Hyung said he found a table for us. They’re at the side near the drink stall.” He addressed it to the Jungkook in particular.

Hyung? Found a table? Did their other friends go to this same campus too?

You thought to yourself as Taehyung soon led the three of you around the cafeteria with you following behind them like a lost puppy.

You were busy looking at the available food stalls around when you were stopped by the voices that called out to the 2 boys’ names. Curious eyes wandered over their figures to see just who their other friends were and you were met with a table filled with relatively handsome guys.

There were 3 guys seated at that table, happily welcoming Taehyung and Jungkook. Just when you thought they had forgotten you, Jungkook turns around to show you to his friends.

“If you guys don’t mind, we made a new friend this morning and we invited her to join us for lunch. Her name is Y/N.” Jungkook announced as the three boys smiled at you warmly.

“Hey Y/N. I’m Namjoon, this is Seokjin and Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.” Namjoon said as he stretched his hand out for you to shake in which you obliged. You definitely didn’t miss the intricate design of a floral arrow lining his inner forearm. That must’ve been his soulmate marking. You soon found yourself seated next to Hoseok and Jungkook after buying your meal.

You were chewing your noodles when Taehyung spoke up to catch everyone at that table’s attention, “Where are they? Shouldn’t their class be over already?”

“Apparently they just ended 5 minutes ago. Minie told me they’re on their way now.” Seokjin replied.

Who were the ‘they’ Taehyung was referring to?

Were there more of their friends?

Oh great.

You refocused on your food, taking a bite out of the chicken meat as you listened to their ‘first day of university’ story. You found out that Namjoon was a Psychology major, Hoseok was a Dance major and Seokjin was a Culinary major.

You were currently staring at the pile of vegetables that Taehyung so kindly transfers into your bowl, after he asked around on who wants the boiled carrots and broccoli to which you said yes.

Taehyung was passing you every last bit of vegetable to your bowl when a sweet voice spoke up from the end of the table nearest to Namjoon and Seokjin.

“Finally! I thought you’d never make it for lunch.” Namjoon laughed as you heard a much raspier voice speak up from the same spot.

“I wouldn’t miss lunch for the world.” You heard the others laugh when Taehyung finally finished clearing his plate off the vegetables before turning to the newcomers to say his hellos.

“Oh, by the way, we have a new addition to our circle. She’s in Taehyung and Jungkook’s class so they tagged her along for lunch.” Seokjin announced as he reached his arm behind Taehyung to place a soft hand on the top of your right shoulder. You finally looked up from your bowl to see who the newcomers were.

The first guy you locked eyes with had cute puffy cheeks, sporting a pretty dark blue hair colour as his bangs framed his face nicely.

“Oh hello. I’m Jimin.”

You smiled shyly at him before your eyes naturally travelled to the other individual standing right beside Jimin and that’s when you frowned.

Unsurprisingly, the male did too.

His hair was an ash grey colour that parted at the side to show his forehead instead of letting it cover his eyebrows like Hoseok’s did. He had a few piercings on each ear. If his physique was unrecognizable to you, at least his face was. You knew exactly who he was without having to ask him for confirmation.

“Yoongi?” His name rolled off your tongue effortlessly in a whisper, stirring reactions from the rest of them.

“Wait, you know each other?” Jimin asked in confusion as his eyes travelled back and forth between you and Yoongi. That’s when you heard the other scoff before locking his eyes with you.

“Never thought I’d see you again after all these years.” His expression was dry and almost unwelcoming unlike the smiles his other friends gave you upon your first meeting. “Never wished for this day to come either but here we are…” You said sarcastically.

The tension was so thick, you were sure you would have to cut it with a knife instead of a scissors.

You broke the gaze by standing up, claiming you’ve lost your appetite.

“I’ll see you guys in class.” You said, directing your words to your classmates before you snatched your phone and wallet off the table top along with your tray of food to return. With a quick glance to Yoongi, you ignored his burning glare as you shoved past him by the shoulders causing him to stumble back a little.

The table fell quiet as Seokjin was the first to break the awkward silence, “Well, that was unexpected.” Yoongi scoffed as he left the table to go buy his food, not bothering to wait for Jimin as his mind was clouded with the thought of you being in his circle of friends.

The history of you two goes way back when you were in both pre and high school. Your first ever dispute with him was in preschool, all because you were both fighting over the crayon box. And then gradually, more fights would happen over silly little things. It came to a point where your teacher would have to separate you from each other.

Your disputes continued after you found out that he just so happened to join the same high school as you, let alone the same class. It only made things worse. You two would bicker and fight almost everyday like a married couple.

Your friends teased you often with him for the amount of fights you got into with him. They’ve even grown accustomed to the harsh comments you had thrown to each other on a daily basis.

Not a day goes by without either him stepping on your tail or you having a payback for all the pranks he did on you to get you worked up. And yet, just when you thought you were free from seeing the devil himself again, life has its way with you and it bothers you to the core at this very instant.

Your lecturer arrived back at the lecture room 15 minutes before 1pm and it seemed like everyone else was still having lunch. All except you. “You’re here early? Have you had your lunch?” He asked as he proceeded to unlock the room while you lingered behind him, standing up after you saw him approaching from afar.

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled, stepping back into the room after he pushed the door open. You climbed the stairs again to where your belongings were, taking out your air pods to bury yourself in music.

Shutting out the world around as you rested your head in your arms on the table. You didn’t notice the people strolling into the lecture room, too busy drowning yourself in your own little bubble. All of it soon came crumbling when you felt a soft tap on your shoulder.

That’s when you look up to see the 2 of them back in their seats.

You glanced ahead to see that the lecturer had already flashed the new slides onto the projector screen which indicates the start of class again. So you took out your air pods and kept them in its case before tossing it into your bag.

Class resumed and your messy thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind, far away from your main focus right now which was your class.

After a dreadful 4 hours of lessons, your lecturer finally calls it a day. He reminded all of you to be punctual for class tomorrow, saying that he has some group discussions for the topic he would be teaching. Once everyone was dismissed, you kept your stuff back into your bag quietly.

You could tell the two boys were waiting for you since they hadn't moved a muscle from beside you despite already standing up and were just leaning against the table while they chatted. The minute you stood up, they pushed themselves off the table and only then did they start walking down the steps.

The three of you made it to ground level thanks to the operating lift, making your way to the parking lot that was right beside the campus entrance.

You were just talking to Jungkook about your hobbies when you noticed a group of 5 guys gathered at the steps of the campus grounds through your peripheral vision. You could only guess it was their friends due to the voice that calls out to those walking with you. They led you towards the bunch as you glanced over to everyone but him.

“Hey Y/N, how did you come here this morning?” Namjoon asked, his voice nothing but sincere.

“Public transport.” You said simply with a smile directed towards him, only for Seokjin to speak up, “Do you need a ride home? I can drive you?”

With that being said, you kindly shook your head with a smile, not wanting to offend him in any way for turning his offer down. “It’s fine, I can manage on my own. Thanks for the offer though. Maybe next time.” You said as you bid the rest of them goodbye, not bothering to look at the very person you’ve held your grudge on for years.

They watched as you turned in your heels and left, deadpanning your way to the front gates. Jimin sighed lightly before turning to Yoongi and asked for answers on why you and him weren’t on good terms.

But the latter only brushed Jimin off, saying he would explain some other time.

The rest of them soon dispersed to their own vehicles to head home after a long and tiring first day of university.

As more days began to pass, you were sometimes dragged by either one of your 2 classmates to hang out with their friends and girlfriends. If you weren’t mistaken, half of them already found their soulmates and were currently in a relationship with them. While the remaining half were still finding for theirs because it was either their soulmate markings had appeared on their skin but very faintly, or there was none at all.

But the amount of times you’ve recalled hanging out with them during the past three months were countable with your fingers. You avoided having lunch with them often ever since you found out Yoongi was in their circle. You didn’t want to seem petty but it seems like he too hated having you around.

Which means that the feelings were mutual on both ends.

It was a pretty warm day so right after you arrived back at your apartment, you headed straight for the showers. Slipping into the shower stream the minute your clothes were discarded.

The cold stream coating your shoulder down with it’s nice, cooling temperature to ease out the warmth in your body.

After you finished your shower, you took your towel from the rack and proceeded to wipe yourself dry. Stepping out of the cubicle, you walked over to the sink counter where your large mirror was glued onto the wall. As you were ruffling your hair with the towel to rid the excess water, you noticed something on your left rib through the reflection.

Is that…?

You glanced down at your skin to see a very faint outline of something on your skin. You blinked twice, not believing this.

When did it start showing?

Your mind was going feral at the thought of seeing your soulmate marking finally make its appearance onto your skin. Who was the cause of this? Why did it only appear now after all these years? If that’s the case then it means that your soulmate is someone from school.

“What am I thinking? This is all a load of crap. I can date whoever I want no matter what marking they have.” You said to no one in particular as you changed into your home attire.

A few days later, you were just in class alone in the morning. Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to arrive when a sudden voice from beside you made you jump. A soft curse emitted from your throat as you clutched to your chest from the minor heart attack. You turned to find one of your classmates whom you recalled his name to be Hanbin, towering over you to your left.

“Hey, I’m Hanbin.” He smiled at you, feeling your stomach get warm upon seeing him up close for the first time.

“Hey… I’m Y/N.”

“I don’t mean to be creepy or weird, but I’ve kind of noticed you going for lunch alone these days instead of with your friends?” He asked as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. You somehow knew where this was going.

“Right… Well, that is true I suppose.” You chuckled awkwardly, looking away from him briefly before turning your attention back to him.

“I see. Well, if you’re looking for company, you can go for lunch with me?” He said it more like a statement instead of a question and that in itself made you smile. You had just accepted his kind offer when you heard familiar voices approaching to where you were seated.

Hanbin’s eyes glanced past your shoulder only to flicker back to you, setting a reminder before he left.

“Lunch with me later, yeah?”

You gave him a soft nod as a smile crept onto your lips. At the same time, you felt the soft nudge to your right elbow. You already knew who’s the culprit. “Wasn’t that Hanbin? What did he say to you?” Taehyung asked as he took a seat beside you.

“He asked me to go for lunch with him.”

“So you agreed?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna go for lunch with him but not us?” Taehyung asked with a pout, only for Jungkook to lean over and ask what was going on. You could only roll your eyes at them, not actually annoyed or anything. Just a reflex whenever someone tried to get your sympathy over something stupid.

“Give me a break. I’m not sharing a table with ‘you know who’. Wouldn’t wanna accidentally break the table with our arguments.” You flashed him a sarcastic smile that made him click his tongue at you in disbelief.

It has been two months since you first went to lunch with Hanbin and you have been doing that ever since. You noticed that his demeanour was starting to change too around you, maybe there was a mutual feeling settling in between the two of you after all.

It was a Saturday afternoon and you already made plans with Hanbin a week prior. He wanted to bring you out on a date to the amusement park and then maybe grab some supper before heading home. He picked you up at your apartment that evening in his jeep, looking quite handsome if you say so yourself.

The two of you spent the evening together, adrenaline rushing through you thanks to the rides you took. After enjoying yourselves at the amusement park, you were both tired from having fun so he offered to stop by and grab supper with you before sending you home.

You ended up getting fast food at the diner downtown. You were happy. You were grateful that he was nothing but sweet to you. But for some reason, deep down there was that voice in you that was screaming, “He’s not the one” and you hated it. You didn’t want to rely on the marking to determine your happiness.

What if you belonged to someone who has a different marking than you?

That’s possible right?

So when he finally parked right outside your apartment complex, he turned off the engine leaving his key in the ignition. The car fell silent for a moment before you decided to be brave and spoke up.

“Do you… wanna come up for a bit? We can talk for a while longer?”

With that, Hanbin frowned as he wondered if he should. He didn’t want to ruin a first date and he most definitely did not want you to have a bad impression on him.

“Are… Are you sure?” He asked quietly, to which you nodded.

When you didn’t get a proper response, you simply let out a soft giggle followed by, “come on” before you opened his jeep door to board off the vehicle. You left him no choice but to follow after you. Once you’ve made it to your apartment, you unlocked your front door and stepped inside allowing him to enter.

It took him a while as his eyes travelled all over your cosy apartment, admiring the minimalist interior. You told him to take a seat while you went to get him a drink.

A few minutes passed and you were both just talking freely on your couch when you noticed how his eyes always flickered down to your lips constantly as you spoke. This made you stifle a giggle and he caught on. He apologized for it but you brushed it off.

Just then, the room felt quiet all of a sudden as it was your turn to glance down to his lips.

Hanbin softly smiled as he began to lean closer.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you could feel his warmth radiating off his body from how close he was to you.

Right when you felt your head get dizzy from the close proximity, you unconsciously whispered against his lips something that you would never normally do.

“Kiss me.”

With that being said, he pressed his plump lips on yours.

Immediately intoxicating you with how sweet he tasted. The kiss slowly got heated as he carefully guided your body back to lay on the couch while he hovered over you. His hands slid past the hem of your shirt, resting on your waist as he caressed your skin.

You slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. He slowly pushed your shirt up using his wrists. Right when he’d just pulled away for a breather, his eyes travelled down to your bare torso beneath him.

His gaze seemed stuck on whatever he was looking at. When you realized he stopped and was staring at something on your body, you knew exactly what he saw.

“Is that…?” His voice was soft, almost sounding as though he was upset.

“Yeap…”

With this confession, he slowly pulled away from you, tugging your shirt back down and bringing you to a sitting position.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” He began but you were quick to hush him.

“It’s okay… Besides, I should be the one saying sorry. I already saw your marking the other day when you wore a tank top to class. I just thought you’d be okay with dating someone who doesn’t share the same mark as you. I guess I was being selfish…” You said.

Hanbin remained quiet as he listened to your reasoning. Suddenly feeling bad for stopping whatever you two were sharing, so abruptly like that. With that, he reached out to hold your hand, telling him that he was still sorry for reacting that way and for hurting your feelings by doing so.

But he told you he didn’t regret taking you out on a date today, that he genuinely had a good time with you and that he would love to still be friends with you if you allowed him.

You smiled at him before turning your attention to the flower pot sitting on your coffee table only for him to continue, “I just hope that you’ll find someone who will love you for who you are, doesn’t matter the mark.” For that, you smiled again. Thanking him for being sweet and thoughtful.

After he left, you couldn’t help but sigh. This was already the umpteenth time this happened to you.

But you couldn’t stay mad at Hanbin for turning you down simply because he didn’t reject you the way your other ex dates did. That was the reason why you let him go without holding a grudge.

The next few weeks, you’ve gone to lunch on an alternate basis between Hanbin and the guys. And every time you went with the guys, you could only prepare yourself for the constant bickering with the one and only, Min Yoongi and today was no different.

You were sitting next to Namjoon at the end of the table with the only space left empty being beside you. And it was as though luck wasn’t on your side, the only human left to arrive for lunch was none other than Yoongi himself.

You were just sipping your green tea when you heard his voice approaching towards your side of the table.

“Sorry hyung, that’s the only seat left.” Jungkook smiled sympathetically to the elder as you made it a point to not spare a glance over to him. You could hear his grunt of disapproval but nonetheless plopped his bag down on the chair before disappearing to buy his food.

When he did come back, you had just gotten a whole chunk of chocolate fudge cake shoved into your mouth by Taehyung who was seated opposite you.

You were unable to pull the dangling piece of cake into your mouth so you tilted your head back. But instead of the cake entering your mouth, it ended up falling into your hands when you felt your head crash into something behind you.

And the hiss just told you who it was.

“Watch it before I spill hot soup on you.” Yoongi said as he placed the bowl of steaming noodle soup on the table top beside your tray.

“Don’t worry because I’ll make sure it spills on you too.” You challenged him back, earning a glare from him.

You heard a few sighs coming from some of the guys but you couldn’t care less. You busied yourself by scrolling through your social media in hopes that the time would just pass by quicker so that you can be away from him after lunch ends.

A few days later, you had just finished your shower when you noticed your mark slowly growing more and more opaque. To which you could finally see the design of it.

It was a dream catcher.

A pretty one at that. You softly traced your finger over the outline of the detail, keeping your eye on the reflection. Just then, a soft sigh left your lips.

This means that your designated soulmate has supposedly crossed your path more than once. But seeing how the ink is getting darker with each passing day, could only mean that if not often, this person is near you at least more than 3 times a week.

A week went by and Jungkook had invited you to his birthday slash pool party that weekend. He invited only the guys and some of their girlfriends. You’ve met the girlfriends a few times and they’ve all been pretty sweet to you so far. All of them are so down to earth. You told Jungkook you’ll be there, earning a happy soft clap from him when you said so.

On the day of the party, you had just finished your shower when you noticed the water droplets underneath you weren’t clear. You looked harder only to realize those weren’t water.

It was blood.

“Great… Thanks mother nature…” You huffed as you went to get your feminine item from your cupboard. After successfully changing into the attire you chose for the day, you tied your hair into a messy ponytail before leaving your bathroom.

You wore simple denim shorts and a loose shirt tucked into your jeans.

When you actually made it to Jungkook’s house, you were surprised to know that he was living in a one story house with a built-in pool ready when he moved in.

Apparently his parents were pretty wealthy people so they bought this house for him, saying it would give him the opportunity to take responsibility in keeping the house clean and tidy rather than his mother having to do it for him all the time.

You called Jungkook’s phone only for him to pick up on the second ring. You told him you were at his front gate so he hung up the call and rushed over to you.

Once you were inside his beautiful compound, he brought you towards the back through his side garden. Distinct voices gradually get louder the nearer you get to them. The minute you turned round the corner, you instantly saw more than half of them in the pool including the ladies.

Seokjin and Taehyung were over at the barbeque grill, cooking the meat for everyone. There was a table filled with all kinds of snacks and sweet drinks. It was a full on pool party.

Just then, a familiar voice rings in your ear already knowing it belonged to Hoseok.

“Y/N! You made it! Come join us!”

You stopped at one of the chairs only to put your sling bag down and apologized to him, “Sorry to burn the mood, but I can’t. Monthly calls.” You could hear some whines and sad pouts forming on some of their faces right after.

“Aww man, that’s a total bummer.” Jimin said, making you shrug.

However, you noticed a figure leaning against the wall on the other side of the pool just blankly staring at you. That’s when you glanced over to see Yoongi. You held your stare for a moment before you turned away. Missing the way he was still staring at you even when you were making your way to Seokjin and Taehyung.

A few minutes later, you were just talking to Jiyeon who was taking a break from being in the pool. You sat facing each other but from where you were seated, your back was facing the grilling pit.

Jiyeon was just talking to you about baking when you noticed someone swimming to the side that was aligned with where you were sitting.

Only to realize it was Yoongi.

He placed his hands on the edge of the pool and soon pushed himself upwards. You watched as water flowed down his body effortlessly. Cursing yourself for even staring at his shirtless form. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, resulting in him having sort of a slick back hairstyle.

He was too busy talking to Hoseok and Jungkook who were still in the pool, his head completely turned away from you.

Right when you were about to look away, your eyes caught sight of the imprinted ink on his left rib. You didn’t think much of it as you turned away from him. But then something in your brain ticked you off like a time bomb. So you carefully turned back to him just a few feet away from you.

That’s when you saw it.

The dream catcher on his left rib is so prominent and bold against his milky skin. Not to mention his toned abs. A soft gasp left your lips as he walked past you without sparing a single glance at you.

But you didn’t mind it. You were glad he didn’t see how shocked you were because if it did, he would have said something about it.

So instead, you just got up and left, entering Jungkook’s home through the glass doors frantically. You rushed in and went straight to the said destination. Once inside, you took a moment to steady your breathing as you brought your gaze up to the long mirror that laid upon you on the wall landscape.

You carefully pulled your shirt up to expose the ink on your own skin. You could only stare at it through the reflection before looking down at your own torso and gently tracing your finger over the outer rim of the dream catcher’s hoop.

You didn’t know how long you were gone for. It wasn’t until a voice broke your train of thoughts.

“Was it really necessary to rush into someone’s house like-”

However, his speech got stuck in his throat when his eyes flickered over to the reflection in the mirror. No it wasn’t your face he was staring at. It wasn’t the soap bottles lining Jungkook’s sink.

It was your mark on your left rib.

You swiftly pulled your shirt down to hide it from him from seeing any more details of it. With quick hasty steps, you turned to leave the bathroom and had barely taken a step out into the hallway when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to face him.

“Show me.” He said firmly.

“Show you what?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean-”

Without warning, Yoongi used his free hand to lift your shirt up to stop right below your bra line as his hands naturally cupped your sides to keep your shirt there. He finally caught a clear look of the inked design on you, seeing how familiar it looked to him.

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicked wider for just a millisecond before it went back to its original state.

For some reason, your lung felt restricted and your heart dropped upon seeing the same mark on his skin at the same exact spot as yourself. You wanted to run away. All you wanted to do now was to be as far away from him as you can.

So you slapped his hands away, making him lose his grip on you before you turned around to leave.

He grabbed your wrist again but this time, you mustered whatever strength you had left to yank your arm from him. Tears stinging your eyes as it threatens to fall, yet you don’t fully understand why.

“Don’t! J-Just… leave me alone… please.” Your voice falls into a whisper as you rush to the backyard, ignoring their worried calls as you simply told them you weren’t feeling well because of your monthly calls. When Yoongi did come back to the backyard, he was questioned as to what happened back in the house and why you looked like you were about to cry.

Yoongi couldn’t help but stare at your descending back just in time before you turned the corner and disappeared fully from sight. Only for him to lie to them despite knowing exactly why you left.

“She wasn’t feeling well.”

The week went by and you have been avoiding coming relatively close to the rest other than the 2 who were obviously unavoidable. But it’s not like you had anything against them. You just wanted to avoid Yoongi at all costs for now. It was a Friday and you had just finished your classes for the day when the two boys exchanged glances to each another before Jungkook spoke up.

“Hey, do you wanna grab something to eat with us after this?” You knew he was being nice. You knew he wasn’t to blame for Yoongi having the same exact soulmate mark as you. So for that, you chose not to lash out at him.

“It’s fine. I’ll pass.” You smiled half heartedly and they could tell. But thankfully, they chose not to question further.

The three of you were walking towards the main entrance as usual when you saw the rest of the group seeming to wait for you three. You glanced up to Jungkook beside you who gestured a small wave to the others, only for you to accidentally look over.

And the first thing you saw was Yoongi already looking at you.

Great.

Before you could get to close, you bid your goodbyes to your friends as you separated from them to head towards the gates. Nobody has yet to know why you were acting this way other than Yoongi himself. You were just halfway through the parking lot when a firm grip on your wrist made you turn after being tugged back gently.

You nearly crashed into the figure whom you weren’t surprised when you saw it was him.

“Stop acting like a child.” He said, his tone held something much more than just firmness. He sounded like he’s… hurt almost.

“So what? This marking thing is a load of bullshit. Why does it determine who we should be with? That’s unfair! I’ve seen couples who have different marks and yet they’re still happy together?!” You said, clearly letting your emotions take over your mind.

“If you think it’s bullshit then why are you ignoring me like I’ve just killed your pet?!” He asked, his voice now a tad louder than it was before.

“Because all the guys I’ve tried dating care too much about these marks! Every single one of them ditched me when they found out I didn’t have the same mark! And what are the odds that the one person who has the same exact mark as me, happens to be the one person that has been nothing but a daily source of fight with me?” You paused as his grip on you loosened, his glare suddenly softened.

“Of course I couldn’t believe it… I didn’t want to believe that of all people, it’s you… That’s why I ignore you.” Your voice grew soft as you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth on your own brown pupils.

“So you’re saying you hate me? Is that it?” His question was simple but it held a thousand meanings and you knew it.

“I don’t even know anymore, Yoongi…” You whispered as you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip and quickly left before he could say anything else. Yoongi stood there trying to process everything. Still not entirely sure of what just happened. Just then, a gentle hand on his shoulder made him return back to reality.

“Hey man, you okay?” Namjoon’s calm voice spoke from beside Yoongi as the latter could only nod.

“We heard your conversation… Well, we didn’t intend to anyways… But, is it true? That you both have the same mark?” Namjoon continued.

He could hear the soft, quiet curse leaving Yoongi’s lips during his exhale before he spoke up, “Yeah… That was actually the reason why she abruptly left during Jungkook’s pool party.” Yoongi explained and it all began to fall into place for Namjoon. The younger could only nod as he finally put the pieces together.

“Mmm, and so I’m guessing she’s too overwhelmed with the fact that you have the mark out of a billion people to walk this planet?” Namjoon said.

“Bingo.” Yoongi sighed as the two began to walk back to their friends who were still gathered at the entrance despite hearing the commotion earlier. If space is what you need, then space is what he shall give. But of course, you can’t run from him forever.

It has been two weeks since your outburst with Yoongi and you have been keeping your distance from him again. The guys also didn’t try to tag you along knowing fully well that you needed space from Yoongi. For that, you silently thanked them. It was a Saturday night and you had made it a point to go for a quick grocery run to stock up your refrigerator with edible food.

After getting all the items you needed, you went to the queue. The lady at the counter scanned every item on the conveyor belt and went ahead to put it in the plastic bag before telling you the total cost.

You were about to reach into your jeans pocket when you noticed them being flat.

You felt around the pockets of your jeans and it was in fact empty. With that being said, you mentally cursed yourself for not bringing your wallet with you. Not only that, this store was the only one nearest to your apartment and it was closing in 10 minutes.

You wouldn’t make it back in time if you went home now to retrieve your wallet.

So you apologized to the lady who looked equally done with her job as you left the store empty handed. You were just walking down the partially empty street when you felt something drop onto your cheek. You stopped walking to feel what it was. Before you could touch your cheek, another drop hits the top of your head. And then another. And another.

“Fuck my life…”

You whispered to yourself as the sky suddenly began to downpour on you. Watching as some people ran across the road for shelter, some whips out their umbrella to shield them from the rain, some simply stayed indoors to avoid being caught in the rain.

However, you were too tired to even care about seeking shelter. Feeling as if today was the worst day of your life.

You continued to stroll down the street completely soaked under the rain.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in attempts to keep yourself warm but it clearly did no shit for you. Absent minded to notice your surroundings, you didn’t hear the calls for your name until the vehicle came to a gradual slow speed beside you on the street.

“Y/N!”

It was Yoongi.

“Leave me alone…”

“Y/N, why in the world are you walking in the heavy rain? You might fall sick, you dummy.”

“Who c-cares?” Your lips were starting to quiver from the cold.

“I do.”

You could’ve sworn your heart just skipped a beat at that response.

“Look, let me take you to my place and get you dry clothes while waiting for the rain to stop. I’ll send you home after.” He said.

“I d-don’t need your… h-help, Yoongi.”

He let out a soft groan in annoyance with your stubbornness, only to drive a little further down before bringing the car to a complete stop. You were about to carry on walking but your feet just came to a halt when you saw him running out of his car and coming to you.

“Come on and stop whining like a little kid.” Yoongi said as he grabbed your wrist and began jogging back to his car, pulling you into the passenger side before going back to the driver seat.

Once safely inside, he drove off into the night and made a left turn at the junction while your apartment building was to the right and probably about a 20 minutes walk. The car ride was quiet as neither of you said anything. You simply let him do what he said he would. When he finally brought the car to a park, he turned off the engine and soon climbed out of the vehicle.

You followed suit as he had already come over to your side to hold the door for you. After he’d locked the car, he led you to his apartment complex as you followed behind him. You took in the interior of his apartment complex, it looked slightly older than yours but still well maintained.

Apparently, he lived on the 14th floor unlike you who lived on the 5th floor.

He soon pulls out his house key and proceeds to unlock his front door. He opens the door for you, letting you step inside first. Once he had closed the door behind him, he told you to wait there as he excused himself to go get you a clean towel and new dry clothes for you to change into.

You took in the minimalist setting of his apartment, quite similar to yours except your walls are white and his is grey.

Yoongi came back with a handful, telling you where the bathroom was.

You followed his directions and soon closed the bathroom door once you’ve stepped inside. In the meantime, Yoongi had gone to change out of his own wet clothes into a clean pair of his sweatpants and a hoodie. He was boiling hot water to make hot chocolate for the two of you when you cleared your throat behind him.

He turned around at the sound, only for him to scheme through your outfit in which he had so specifically chosen for you. He had lent you one of his sleeping shorts and an oversized black hoodie that looked a little too big on you.

But for some reason, you looked good in them.

He almost had to pinch himself for staring too long before he finally spoke up, “Uhh, my dryer’s in the laundry room. Second door to the left.”

You nodded as you disappeared back down the hall, only for him to mentally curse himself for losing his composure. After 2 minutes or so, you came back having managed to turn the dryer on.

He handed you the cup of hot chocolate, not forgetting to thank him for it.

There was a short moment of peaceful silence before he gestured over to his living room. The both of you went over to the couch as you sat on either ends of the furniture. He turned his tv on and was busying himself with searching through Netflix when you mustered up the courage to ask him what was on your mind for the past half an hour.

“Why did you help me?”

Yoongi turned to you briefly, unsure if he should answer the question truthfully.

“As much as we fight, I’m not entirely heartless.”

Your eyes bore into him as you soon found yourself looking down at your hands when he turned to look at you. If it wasn’t for the tv, you knew for a fact that he could’ve heard the thumping of your heart. Silence fell over you two again but he broke it as soon as it started.

“Why were you walking in the rain?”

“I was on a grocery run.”

“But I don’t recall seeing you carry any bags of groceries?”

“That’s because I couldn’t pay for it without my wallet…”

He raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief, finding it ridiculous that you only realized it when you were checking out of the store.

“Shut up. This kind of stuff happens okay…” You scoffed, earning a quiet chuckle coming from him followed by an, “Okay, okay.” The room fell silent again and you were just playing with the strings of your hoodie.

Silently wishing for time to pass quicker but it seems like the rain only got heavier.

“Look, I think we should just forget about the whole marking thing and just… start over?” He said, causing you to look at him but he seemed like he was diligently avoiding your gaze.

“Start… over?” You dragged your words to show that you wanted a slightly more detailed explanation.

“What I mean is… let’s stop ignoring each other and stop fighting over the smallest little issues like we did when we were young. Back then we were still young and immature. But we’re not anymore, are we?” He ended with a question, making you huff.

You know he has a point but your ego is still higher than ever.

“Are you only saying this because I’m your soulmate?”

“No. I really am tired of fighting with you.”

“Why now? Why only want to call truce after you’ve seen my mark? Doesn’t that say a lot?” You were stubborn and he knows it. And yet, he still answers you to clear all your doubts.

Surprisingly patient with you.

“I know it might look like what you think, but it’s really not. I don’t care about the marking much like you. But after thinking about it, I feel like it’s actually childish to hold a grudge on each other for the things we’ve done years ago, don’t you think?” He explained, hoping it’ll get past that rock solid head of yours.

Your heart knows he’s right but your mind forces you to say otherwise.

With that, you huffed as you got up and excused yourself to go check on your clothes. Before you could make it past the first door on the left, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you back.

He pressed you against the wall with his other hand beside your head to trap you.

Your free hand hovered in between both yours and his chest as he was less than 4 inches away. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath hitting your lips. You would’ve slapped him if he did this years ago.

But now?

“Why are you so stubborn?”

He asked, his voice low as you kept your heated gaze on his eyes even though you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and lips.

Rising heat from both anger and his body temperature radiated off him, engulfing you like a cocoon. You could’ve sworn you saw his pupils dilate a few times now that he was this close to you. It was quiet in the hallway as he frowned, still waiting for an answer from you. But instead, you gently pressed your hand on his warm chest that was in between your bodies.

This was enough to make him flinch slightly. His crammed face relaxed for a moment when he looked down at your hand on his chest before looking back at you.

Even more confusion struck him.

Your heart was racing rapidly in your chest, and you were so sure he could hear it. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer so you looked down at your hand as you slid it up towards the necklace he was wearing. Playing with the pendant in between your fingers.

You didn’t realise this but his grip on your wrist was long gone and was now slowly snaking that arm around your waist.

Yoongi leaned in very subtly to let his lips brush against yours just to see your reaction. He closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of having you this close for the first time. You did the same as your other hand rested on his left bicep. Before you knew it, he closed whatever remaining gaps in between only to kiss you.

Your heart exploded in your chest as he used the hand beside your head to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch while you reciprocated the kiss. Yoongi’s grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you against him.

He felt both your hands now just holding onto his biceps for support, his lips tugging upwards against your mouth.

You could feel his muscles flexing under your fingertips as he pulled away from your mouth and was now trailing soft kisses down your neck. A soft sigh left your lips, feeling him give some love to the part that joins your neck and shoulder blade together.

“Yoongi…” Your voice came out as a mere whisper.

Just when you wanted to say something, your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his hands slip past your shirt only to rest them on your sides when your mark was.

His touch was gentle but it definitely did something to your poor heart.

“Answer me truthfully… Are you okay with… this?” Yoongi asked, gesturing between you and him. “With us? Because you can say no if you’re really against this. I would never force you.”

You stared at him for a while, rethinking your answer. You’ve been so firm about not caring who has the same soulmate mark as you because you thought it was all bullshit. But now, standing in front of him and knowing that he has the mark, not only that but he seemed like he really genuinely likes you is making it twice harder for you to say no.

But your silence was too long for him as he counted to 3 in his mind. When you didn’t respond, he slowly nodded. Pulling himself away to leave a space between you.

“It’s okay, I understand… I think your clothes are dry. Go change, I’ll wait outside.” His voice was quiet as if he’s too upset, he can’t even look you in the eye. You felt bad. You never wanted him to feel this way. So when he turned in his heels to walk away, you yearned for him to come back.

Yoongi was halfway down his living room when he felt a smaller hand slide into his right one. His step came to a halt as he kept his back to you.

He was about to ask if there's something wrong but all he got was a soft apology.

“I’m sorry…”

You watched as he remained still, his back still facing you. Doing nothing to turn and look at you. Yoongi wasn’t sure what he wanted to do at the moment so he kept quiet.

Just then, you used your other hand to cup his that you were already holding. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like this. But he definitely wasn’t prepared for what you were about to do next. You weren’t sure if you trust your voice so instead, you took a few steps closer before wrapping your arms around his waist.

Pressing your cheek against his back. You stayed like that for a few seconds, basking in the sweet vanilla scent of his.

You could feel him tense up when you first hugged him but he soon relaxed in your arms.

You didn’t dare to do anything else, all until you felt him softly caress your arms only to lock his fingers with yours over top of your hands. You only nuzzled your face deeper into his back, afraid to look at him.

But when you feel him slowly move around in your arms, that’s when you let him face you.

The minute he sees your face, he immediately cups your cheeks and wasted no time in kissing you ever so sweetly. The butterflies in your stomach erupted as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, feeling him pull you closer to him by your waist.

He held you securely against him all the while never leaving your lips. You were the first to pull away, keeping the distance small between you and him.

Your eyes were still closed so you depended on your senses.

That wasn’t until you felt him cup your face again, caressing your cheek with his thumbs. The room fell silent as he brushed his soft lips against yours and whispered to you quietly, “Can we start over?”

You opted for just a nod, unsure if you could trust your voice. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you so softly with his doe round eyes.

Yoongi smiled, whispering an ‘okay’ before he kissed you again. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you melted against his lips. He took his time with you, making sure you were comfortable and that you really wanted this. He never wanted to hurt you in any way. He kept asking for your permission before he did anything and you appreciated it.

You woke up the next morning to a warm feeling engulfing you from behind. You stirred in your sleep, trying to see what it was. But the squeeze around your waist made you look down to see the familiar arm draped over your waist, tucking his hands underneath you. The silver bracelet around his right wrist could never be mistaken for someone else.

Just when you were about to snuggle deeper into the warmth of his body, you felt him kiss the back of your head. Your heart pounded in your chest, stomach flipped in your belly.

“Mmm, good morning.” He whispered, his morning voice low and raspy.

You sighed in content as you turned around to face him, only to find that he still had his eyes closed but there was a smile that crept on his lips.

With that, you smiled as you planted a soft kiss on his lips. You could feel him smirk against your lips, earning a soft giggle from you. His arm that was supporting your head, bent at the elbows as he began to play with your soft hair.

The next day, you came to school feeling a little down in the weather. Maybe it was a late reaction to when you got drenched in the rain. You were sniffling in your seat when Taehyung and Jungkook immediately caught the sight of your red nose.

“Hey, are you sick? Your nose is red.” Jungkook said, his voice laced with full concern. You simply shook him off saying it was just light flu.

The other two weren’t buying it, they said they would go get medicine for you after class and you all but rejected them. The last thing you’d wanna do was to burden them.

So after your morning class has ended and you have been dismissed for lunch, the three of you made it to the cafeteria only to find the rest of the guys already seated. But you and Yoongi still haven’t told them about your resolve yet. So they thought you two were still ignoring each other.

“Hey guys! Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of pale…” Namjoon asked, making you smile.

“It’s just a little flu, that’s all.” You said, completely missing the way Yoongi was staring at you with pure concern.

“Do you wanna go home and rest?” Hoseok asked in which you shook your head, before a squeaky sneeze left your lips not forgetting to cover your mouth while you did. “Sorry…” You whispered an apology, earning a few laughs from them. Just then, Yoongi got up without a word, leaving the table.

You watched as he disappeared down the aisle towards the drink stall. You wondered what he was doing but nevertheless shrugged, going to the empty seats beside him and Jimin.

You took a seat beside Yoongi’s empty chair, not really having the appetite to eat.

You were just rejecting Jimin’s offer to feed you some of his food when Yoongi came back with a glass of hot tea, a bottle of water and a strip of two panadol flu tablets. The rest of them watched quietly as he sat down beside you and handed you the drinks.

“Here, take this.” He said softly, pulling your hand up to push the two tablets out of the strip onto your open palms.

“Oh? Since when are you guys on good terms?” Taehyung asked in utter confusion.

“We’re not. We’re just acting.” Yoongi replied sarcastically before twisting the bottle cap open for you. He waited for you to throw your head back and let the tablets fall into your mouth before gulping down the water.

After you were done, you thanked him quietly. You didn’t miss the little smirk on his face.

“Okay…” Seokjin said as he gently slammed his hands onto the table top, making some of you flinch.

“What’s going on? Last week you were both ignoring each other and now you’re taking care of her like she means the world to you?” He asked as you turned to Yoongi for help.

“Don’t you know the saying ‘People change’?” Yoongi said.

“Of course, but it’s almost too drastic. Just over the weekend too.” Seokjin said in disbelief.

“Well, I guess it happens.” Yoongi shrugged as Jungkook directed his question to you.

“So I’m guessing you too?”

“No. I still hate him.” You lied.

“Is that so? Then why are you holding his pinkie?” Hoseok smirked, pointing to your intertwined pinkie on the table. With that, you quickly removed your hands from Yoongi.

“Hey... Why did you let go? I was about to play with your fingers.”

Yoongi said with a small pout, making you blush. Just then, Yoongi reached back over to lace his fingers with yours, resting your hands on his lap only to steal a quick kiss to your cheek.

This stirred a few dramatic gasps from your other friends. “Did you guys see that?! That was- omg!” Seokjin’s voice was too loud, making Jimin cover his mouth with his hands.

“Oh hush your pie hole dust. Just let me be happy for once.” Yoongi smirked as you felt him caress the back of your hand. He’s definitely going to be a handful but you’re more than happy to entertain his crap.

~~~

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts x reader #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi scenario #suga scenarios #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga scenarios #bts suga imagines #suga fluff

577 notes · View notes

cloudteawrites · 3 years

Text

chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place.

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon.

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful.

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer.

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored.

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum.

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart.

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle.

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.”

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy. “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back.

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…”

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.”

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.”

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation.

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent. Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think.

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night.

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk.

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted.

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen.

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert.

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.”

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you.

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him.

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first.

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.”

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache.

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.”

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too.

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.” You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking.

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's.

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist.

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?”

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles.

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting.

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another.

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.”

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room.

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

885 notes · View notes

shydragonrider · 2 years

Text

When the Darkness comes - 4

Okay. Named the boys.

Supervillain is Asher, and his villain moniker is Darkfall.

Brother’s name is Zander, and his Hero moniker is Caspian

The Character’s ages are as follows:

Zander- 27

Rachel - 25

Asher - 23

Selena - 21

Taglist: @whumpwillow, @equestrianwritingsstuff, and @befuddled-calico-whump, and @brutal-nemesis (hope it was okay to tag you)

Warnings: High fever, ice bath, infection, gruesome cauterization of a through-and-through injury, begging, scared whumpee.

*******************

Selena tapped Darkfall’s flushed cheek, concerned by the lack of response she got. The fever wasn’t getting better, or even levelling out. It just kept rising.

“Rachel! Zander!” She shouted, noting with concern that Darkfall didn’t even flinch at her yell.

Both her siblings were there in less than a minute.

“Selena, what’s going on?” Zander asked.

In response, she gestured to Darkfall. “He’s getting worse.”

Rachel frowned, pressing the back of her hand to the supervillain’s forehead, withdrawing it quickly.

“Zander. Ice-bath. Now.”

“I thought it was supposed to be luke-warm?“ Selena asked her sister.

“No. I’ll worry about the shivering making things worse later. For now, we need to get his fever down asap.”

Selena nodded, helping her sister in getting Darkfall into the bathroom, where Zander had filled the bathtub with cold water, and ice cubes.

Rachel dragged Darkfall over, and dumped him into the freezing water.

************

Asher broke the surface, dazed and disoriented.

“W-wh-what?” He gasped, shivering violently. “Wh-what’s h-happening? Where ‘m I?”

Hands gripped his shoulders, pushing him back under the water, and Asher panicked.

“N-no.” He stammered, squirming desperately. “Please!”

They were going to drown him.

“Darkfall, calm down. It’s okay.” A female voice - Ember’s voice- said off to his left.

Asher blinked hard, struggling to focus on the young hero.

“D-don’t drown m-me.” He pleaded, terrified out of his mind.

“We’re not going to drown you.” Ember said quietly.

“Though it’s not a bad idea.” That was Caspian’s voice. Asher whimpered. Caspian was a formidable foe, and at this point, Asher couldn’t fight back.

He could barely even speak.

“Ignore my brother.” Ember said. “He’s grumpy that I disturbed his beauty sleep.”

“Watch the sass, Selly.”

Ember’s teal eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me Selly.” She snarled.

Asher shivered, slumping into the water’s icy embrace.

“We haven’t been properly introduced.” Ember said.

“You’re really going to tell him our names?” Caspian hissed.

“He already knows what we look like without our masks. I doubt if it matters.” That was Huntress.

“Rachel’s right.”

“Somebody write that down.” Huntress said, feigning shock.

Ember ignored her sister, turning back to Asher.

“I’m Selena. This is Rachel, and the really grumpy one is Zander.” She tilted her head. “What about you? What’s your name?”

“Asher.” He mumbled, looking up at her.

Despite how miserable he felt, or perhaps because of it, Asher found himself struck by how pretty Ember was, with her fair skin, teal eyes, high cheekbones, and long mahogany hair.

“Okay, I think we can get him out.” Huntress said quietly.

***********

After drying Darkfall off, Rachel cut off the bandages, revealing the wound on the side of his stomach. As she’d suspected, the wound was infected, oozing a rancid smelling discharge.

“What’s wrong with it?” Selena asked, peering over her shoulder.

“The Antidote stopped the poison’s spread, and stopped it from affecting his organs... but it’s still festering in his wounds.”

“So how do we stop it?”

“We’ll have to burn it out.”

“What?” Rachel saw the alarm in Selena’s eyes.

“We’ll have to burn it out, Selena.” She turned to Zander. “Please go get the rod and torch.”

‘The rod’ was what Rachel referred to the stainless steel arrow shaft that she had made specifically to cauterize through and through arrow wounds.

She had genuinely hoped never to use it.

Zander returned with the rod, along with a butane torch.

“How are you gonna cauterize it?” Selena asked, glancing over at Darkfall, who was shivering on the bed.

Rachel closed her eyes. “We’ll heat up the rod, and then... Fuck, we’ll have to thread it into the wound.”

“You’re gonna shove that through him?” Selena looked horrified.

“It’s the only way to get the poison out of the wound.”

Selena swallowed, and knelt next to Darkfall, who had his blue eyes fixed on the steel rod, which was starting to glow red.

“No.” He whimpered, looking from Selena to Rachel with an expression of helpless terror.

“No no no no, please. Please no.” He begged, writhing in panic.

“Asher.” Selena said gently, reaching out and tentatively stroking his hair. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.

“P-please.” He stuttered. “Ember- Selena, please! Please don’t. I’m sorry, so sorry. I-I won’t cause any problems.” He started sobbing. “Please! I’ll be good! I’ll stay out of your way! Anything! Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Ssshhhh, Asher.” Selena soothed, cupping his face in her hands. His eyes wheeled as Rachel straightened up, tightening her grip on the rod.

“Asher, look at me.” Selena said, gentle but firm. The man whined in terror, but obeyed.

“This isn’t a punishment. I promise.” She told him. “Your wound is festering, and antibiotics won’t work on it. This is the only way to stop the infection. The only way to save your life.”

He was trembling, weeping quietly as he looked up at Selena.

Rachel nodded to Zander, who turned Asher onto his side. The man made a blubbering sound, and Rachel grimaced.

“Here.” Selena said gently, twisting up the spare pillow case. “Bite this.”

Asher shuddered, but he obeyed. Selena gently took his hand.

“It’s going to be okay.” She told him.

Rachel put her hand on her nemesis’ trembling side, and lined up the glowing metal rod with the arrow wound.

She took a deep breath, steadied her shaking hand, and pressed the rod into the wound.

******************

Asher screamed through the fabric he was biting, his eyes screwed tight shut with pain, his grip on Selena’s hand tightened so much she was sure he was breaking bones. But she did not move.

The smell of burning flesh reached her nostrils, and she grimaced, looking up as the still glowing tip of the bar poked out of the exit wound on Asher’s back.

Zander was still holding him down, a look of pity replacing the rage that had been present in his eyes as Asher wailed.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.” Rachel said, her voice amazingly steady. Slowly, she pulled the rod free.

Asher slumped into the bed with a sob.

“Ssssshhhh.” Selena murmured, stroking his damp blond hair. “Sssshhhh, it’s over now. It’s over.”

Asher was clearly beyond being able to speak at this point. He was shuddering from pain, gasping for breath.

“I know.” Selena cooed. “It’s over, I promise.”

Zander carefully pulled him upright, allowing Rachel to smear ointment onto his wounds, and then bandage his torso again.

Selena wrapped her arms around his shoulders, rubbing his back gently, all animosity forgotten.

#cauterization #Supervillain whumpee #feverish supervillain #feverish whumpee #ice bath #burning #fever #feverish #begging #fear #painful wound cleaning #tw cauterization #poison #poisoned whumpee #poisoned supervillain #hero caretaker #multiple caretakers #delirium #hero x supervillain

49 notes · View notes

seita · 4 years

Text

— don’t ask | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟷𝟹𝟻𝟿𝟶

cw: roommate!au, sugar baby!au

tags: heavy pining, arguments, briefly ft.kaminari, rejection, possessiveness, jealousy, crying, dirty talk, pet names, dom!shinsou, fingering, riding, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise (?), marking, creampie, angst with a happy ending.

note: this is a thank you for 5k followers! i can’t believe i hit such a milestone in only like a month and a half! i appreciate the love and support everyone has given me and i promise to put out more quality content going forwarad!

— you thought it was strange a guy your age made such good money by seemingly doing nothing. whenever you would question him about his income, he’d grow defensive. once a month, a left the house for a few days; leaving to perform a mysterious job he didn’t want you to know about.

⇦ back to navigation

When you saw the flier for someone looking for a new roommate, you honestly thought it was one big scam. You assumed that the second you set up a meeting, you would be kidnapped and never seen again.

Being a lowly college kid meant you didn’t have your sea legs in the adult world quite yet. Swamped with studies, horrible at managing your time and your stress levels, you were left a constant mess. So, your solution was to stick to studying for the most part and work part-time so the job didn’t take up too much of your time.

Another genius idea you had was the age-old roommate situation. You started out looking for listings online for preferably Musutafu or Tokyo. Alas, you came up with nothing after a handful of weeks and were intending to give up.

However, a stop by the grocery store changed everything. It was a flyer for someone looking for a roommate in an area of Tokyo that you knew to be pretty pricey.

It was close enough to your college campus so you wouldn’t have to worry about a stupid commute. You thought it was too good to be true as you looked at the information stating you wouldn’t even need to pay rent. You’d simply have to split some bills and buy your own groceries.

The idea of not having to shell out hundreds of dollars a month was appealing on its own; you’d definitely be able to save with a living situation like that.

The logical side of you was weary, however. The entire thing could be a ploy to trick some unsuspecting victim, like yourself, into who knows what.

Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to contact the person just in case it wasn’t a trick. No harm in checking, you supposed.

Tugging the flyer down from where it was pinned up on the bulletin board, you folded it up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your purse to take care of when you got home from classes.

All of that led you to meeting one Hitoshi Shinsou. He was a tall, tired looking guy around your age. His most prominent feature was the fluffy mess of purple hair that was atop his head. When you first met him, he fixed you with a cold gaze ― his purple irises burning holes into you. And for a second you were sure that you were right on your hunch and you were never going to return home.

Nothing of consequence happened, naturally, and instead he showed you the bedroom you would be using and handed you a key before sitting down on the couch to watch TV. The whole exchange was unlike anything you expected. When you questioned him he simply told you he’d get everything straight for you and that you could begin to move in whenever.

So you did.

As expected of such an expensive apartment, the room you were given was great. It was roomy and nothing like you assumed you would wind up with. Most college students wind up with a shitty roommate, a one-bedroom apartment, and instant ramen for dinner every night.

Instead you got the chillest roommate known to mankind. Shinsou barely even made a peep. Most of the time you found him relaxing in front of the TV watching murder documentaries. You did learn that the poor guy had insomnia and as a result was up almost every night. Sometimes you would catch him snoozing on the couch but that rarely lasted more than 2 or 3 hours before he was up and about once again.

You did learn that the man was a lousy cook so he mostly lived on instant ramen before you moved in. Luckily for him, you enjoyed cooking and decided to be the one to make meals for the two of you. To say Shinsou was appreciative was an understatement.

Simply put, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

And so bloomed an easy friendship with him. Shinsou made it easy to befriend, although he was a quiet guy he was funny and charismatic; the type of guy who probably had a lot of friends.

You lived there for about a month when you noticed the first weird disappearance.

You had been laying in bed, eyes closed as you slowly began to drift off to the white noise of your overhead fan.

What lulled you from your daze was the beep of the alarm at the front door. Sitting up, you listened carefully only to hear a couple beeps and the click of the door shutting.

Frowning, you got out of the bed and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders to shield yourself from the chilled apartment air. Your footsteps were silent as you padded your way to the entryway. You immediately noticed that Shinsou’s shoes were gone from where they should have been sitting beside the front door.

You checked his bedroom to find that he was, indeed, not there. You simply assumed he had gone for a walk or to a convenience store or something since he couldn’t sleep and went back to bed. That was certainly not something uncommon for the insomniac you called a roommate.

When you got up in the morning, however, you noticed he was still gone.

You wandered into the kitchen, intending to open the fridge to start something for breakfast only to find a cute cat-themed sticky note plastered to the front of it. Written in your roommates sloppy handwriting was “I won’t be home for a few days.”

Short and to the point but still causing questions to arise in response.

You had no choice but to carry on. You could text him and question him but you had a feeling you wouldn’t actually get any information.

Two days was how long he was gone for. He turned on the second night, looking as tired as usual.

“I’m home,” he called with a heavy sigh, kicking his shoes off before dropping the heavy duffle bag he carried to the floor.

“Hey,” you greeted over the back of the couch, “I uh...made dinner but I didn’t make any for you. I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“It’s fine, I already ate anyway,” he hummed, dropping his full weight onto the empty cushion beside you. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

You eyed him and decided to simply not ask about the hickey on his pale skin.

The time ticked past midnight and you stood up, yawning as you stretched, “I’m heading to bed.”

“Alright,” he mumbled, finally stealing the remote from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey…” you paused at the entrance to the hallway, deciding to chance it, “Where did you go anyway?”

“...To work,” he replied, simply.

His tone held a sense of finality to it, leaving no room for you to inquire exactly what that meant. So, with a final bid, you went to your bedroom.

It was almost like deja vu, laying in bed as you fell asleep only to hear the beeping of that alarm. You sat up and climbed out of bed, intending to catch Shinsou before he was gone but as you reached the living room, you heard the front door click shut and he was gone.

Sighing, you wandered to the kitchen to find another note like you’d seen last time stuck to the fridge.

As you glanced at the calendar on the wall, you realized it was almost exactly a month since the last time he did this ― you remembered because he left on the 23rd and it was currently the 22nd. You could practically feel the dots forming but you had absolutely no way of connecting them.

Deciding to retire to bed, you attempted to sleep but found yourself thinking of Shinsou.

Two months in a row he vanished around the same time, in the middle of the night leaving only a note. Now that you thought about it, he didn’t seem to have a job ― he only said his disappearance was part of his job. But he came back with a hickey.

Sighing, you rolled over and attempted to fall asleep.

Two days later, he came home.

“I’m back,” he grumbled.

Immediately, you noted the aggravated tone to his voice. Sitting up from where you were sprawled out on the couch, you eyed him. Instead of just dropping his duffle bag like he had last time, he took it straight to the laundry room.

As he disappeared into the kitchen, you got up and followed him. He was squatting on the floor, rummaging through the bag as he tossed out pieces of clothing. You leaned on the door jam with your arms folded on your chest. Whether or not he knew you were there, you didn’t know.

“There’s some dinner left for you,” you said softly, watching him pause and look over his shoulder at you.

“I already ate,” he replied, voice cold.

You frowned, standing up straight, “Alright, well…” you sighed, “I’ll wrap it up and put it in the fridge in case you get hungry tonight.”

He didn’t reply but you kept watching him. He moved to fully sit on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt. You noticed that he was separating the clothes into two piles. Closer inspection brought your attention to the price tags attached to the clothes in one pile.

You found yourself wondering where he got those clothes from but you decided not to ask. He seemed to be in a rather sour mood.

He left the new clothes on the floor and dumped the others into the washing machine. With quick efficiency, he started the cycle and stuffed the remaining clothes back into his bag.

You backed up to allow him to leave the laundry room. His shoulders were stiff and his posture was tense. It was a complete 180 from how you usually saw him.

“You um...you alright?” you finally asked when he sat down on the couch.

He barely spared you a glance before propping his feet up on the coffee table, turning the TV on. Realizing you weren’t getting a response, you attempted to brush off the brief anger that flashed through you and instead went to the kitchen to clean everything up.

You didn’t know why he was being so rude to you ― it’s not like you did anything to him. Deciding to just head to your bedroom to study, you shut off the kitchen light and skirted behind the couch to avoid getting in his way of the TV.

He didn’t say a word as you disappeared down the hallway.

As opposed to last time, his ‘work’ seemed to have not gone too well this time around. At least the last time, he was just tired and feeling lazy.

You could still hear the TV going when you put all your stuff away and crawled into bed.

The next morning, you awoke with a sigh. Sitting up, you stretched until you felt your joints pop.

As you wandered out of your bedroom, you heard the shower going, indicating Shinsou was still around. Not that you were expecting any different.

You fixed a quick, simple breakfast for you and Shinsou, hearing the shower turn off as you finished. Wiping your washed hands on your pants, you made your way to the bathroom.

You only got to knock on the door once before it was yanked open. Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

He stood there, his usual fluffy hair flattened and hanging haphazardly around his face. He wore his usual bored expression despite the fact he was standing there, dripping wet with only a towel around his waist. Immediately, you got a whiff of his body wash and shampoo, making you swallow thickly.

Fuck, he smelled really good. You always thought so, when he sat on the couch beside you, you could always smell that delicious, musky scent of his body wash mixed with the spice of his cologne. But freshly washed with it, you were nearly salivating at the smell.

“Um…” you swallowed thickly, tearing your gaze away from the well built muscles under those baggy clothes he always wore, “B-Breakfast is ready…”

“Okay,” he mumbled, moving to skirt around you.

You sighed, assuming he was still in a shit mood again. Running a hand through your hair, you shook the delectable sight of him fresh out of the shower from your mind. As you went to go back to the kitchen, a large hand grappled around your wrist.

“Hey,” he mumbled. You looked over your shoulder to see him nervously rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you’d seen numerous times before, “I’m sorry...about yesterday.”

“Huh?” you raised a brow, trying to ignore how big his hand was around your wrist.

“I was in a shit mood and I took it out on you,” he explained, “So I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you relaxed slightly and smiled, realizing he was actually in a decent mood today, “It’s okay.”

He gave you his own relieved smile, making your heart lurch in your chest at the sight. It was rare to see any other expression beyond that tired, bored look he always wore. Finally releasing his hold on your wrist, he spoke again, “Let me get dressed and I’ll come eat.”

“Alright,” you nodded, biting your lip as he turned his back to you. As he walked you could see the way the muscles flexed under the skin.

When he finally vanished through his bedroom door, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Shaking your head you moved back to the kitchen intending to stuff your face to forget about how hot Hitoshi Shinsou really was.

Before, you thought he was good looking. Usually dark circles were unbecoming but they looked almost at home on his face. His skin was nearly flawless and looked soft to the touch ― you’d seen the skincare products housed in his cabinet. It was expensive shit too. Seriously, what was the guy's job?

That thought had your mind wandering back to the monthly disappearances.

The chair scraped against the floor as he came back ― wearing a baggy t-shirt and black sweats. He immediately dug in and began to eat.

“So...I have to ask,” he paused, brows coming together in a scowl as you uttered those words.

“Don’t ask,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“I just wanted to ask...if this is a monthly thing. I’ve only been here for 2 so...I just wanted to make sure,” you clarified, watching his shoulder relax. He seemed extremely defensive over any questions related to his ‘job’, you noted.

“Yeah. Once at the end of the month I leave for two days to work,” he answered simply, obviously avoiding giving any more information that you could feed off of.

He was smart at least.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the two of you were sitting on the couch watching TV. He had some documentary on but truthfully you weren’t paying a whole lot of attention to it.

For some reason, your mind kept bringing you back to the sight that morning of Shinsou. As you looked at him sitting beside you, arm tossed casually over the back of the couch as he slouched with his legs spread, you found yourself admiring him.

He had a sharp jaw and pretty lips. A look lower, your eyes landed on his hands ― long, pretty fingers with prominent veins beneath the pale skin.

Suddenly, his sharp gaze cut from the TV to you and you found yourself locked in a gaze with him for a split second before you broke away to look at the TV once more. In your peripheral, you swear you saw a smirk crossing his face.

But he didn’t comment and for that, you were thankful.

You bid him goodnight and as usual, he stayed up. You began to wonder if the man even tried to sleep anymore.

You stepped into the bathroom, warning your roommate that you were taking a shower. He shouted back a simple ‘okay’ before you shut the door.

You stepped under the stream of water after stripping, the steam of the hot water filling the bathroom and relaxing your muscles. You tipped your head back to wet your hair, humming to yourself.

You eyed Shinsou’s body wash sitting in the purple caddy handing on a hook on the wall. It brought you back to how nice he smelled when he was close to you. When you could feel his body warmth radiating off of him. You would look at him, his shoulders broad and his body warm and inviting. It was nearly impossible to resist the urge to cuddle yourself into his chest.

You wondered what it would be like to lay against him, his arms wrapped around you as he softly stroked your skin. Maybe he would press a soft kiss to your forehead ― the idea alone made you melt.

Realizing you had lost yourself in thought, you hurried to finish your shower and get to bed.

You fell asleep with Shinsou on your mind that night.

Shinsou’s third monthly work time finally rolled around once again. This time, you stayed up late so Shinsou had no choice but the interact before he left. You were hoping to maybe get more hints about what it is he did.

He shut his bedroom door, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder with a grunt. You were surprised to see him in actual clothes ― rather nice ones as well.

His jeans fit him perfectly and the button down shirt he wore was tucked in, showing off his lean figure. The belt buckle on his jeans indicated it was name brand and you found yourself wondering how much his job even paid.

“I’ll be home same as usual,” he mumbled, bending down to slide his shoes on at the door. He looked so good doing just a simple task and you found your heart racing in your chest. His shoulders were accented so well by his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up halfway on his forearms and there was an expensive looking watch on one of his wrists.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he opened the door ― suddenly finding that you didn’t want him to leave.

“Um…” you called, making him pause in the open door, looking over his shoulder with a brow raised in question, “You...uh…” you struggled to find something to say but he waited patiently for you to form your next words, “Have a nice time...come home soon.”

Your heart thudded painfully as you watched his gaze soften, a smile forming on his lips as he nodded, “I’ll see you later, ______.”

Your ears were ringing as he shut the door, the sound of your name coming from his lips echoing in your head. You sunk down onto the couch, hand on your chest as you came to a startling realization.

You had a crush on your roommate.

Living with Shinsou after coming to terms that you had a crush on him was...difficult to say the least. Simple things he did that you used to pay no mind to, you now found yourself getting jittery at the sight.

Like the way he rubbed his eyes with a fist when he woke up from a nap on the couch, a sound you could only describe as a whine coming from his throat as he sat up.

The day your kitchen sink stopped working and he had to fix it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. He was leaning beneath the sink, in the cabinet on his back as he fiddled with some tools on the pipes. His white t-shirt became see-through as he sweat from the hard work, his biceps flexing with every movement he made. His shirt rode up a bit over his stomach, exposing his abs that moved and rippled with every movement. His sweats were riding low on his hips, exposing that delicious v-line and happy trail that vanished beneath the band.

The worst part was the way you could see everything in those gray sweatpants he wore. You were pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

You had to leave the room and hide in your bedroom with the window open until he finally finished fixing it.

You definitely didn’t let your hand slide down your panties to the mental image of him that night.

Despite living together for nearly four months, you knew close to nothing personal about Shinsou. Putting aside his weird, shady two-day job once a month, you didn’t have anything else to go off of on who he was.

He was a quiet guy who liked documentaries, video games, and had insomnia. He really loved to eat breakfast foods and cats. Although you hadn’t been in his room even once, only had a couple peeks inside, you knew he owned some cat-themed stationary at the very least.

Despite his cold appearance, he was actually quite kindhearted and gentle but seemed to have no desire to show it unless necessary. One time, you cut your finger while cooking and you swear you’d never seen him run faster to get a bandaid from the bathroom ― one with a cat on it, no less.

You still remember the feeling of his hand holding yours and how close his face was as he inspected the cut. You could have leaned in and kissed him so easily then.

And god was that tempting.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the glass you were holding in your hand slipped free until it shattered in a million pieces across the linoleum floor. You gasped, startled as you looked around for a way to escape but a single step in an area you thought was clear brought a cry from your lips as you stepped on the tiny shards.

You heard a loud thump from the living room where he had been playing a video game before the thundering footsteps raced into the kitchen. Shinsou’s eyes were wide, like he was terrified of what he would find.

“Don’t move,” he snapped, noting the way you leaned against the counter to take your injured foot off of the ground. He opened the storage cabinet and pulled out the broom and dust pan.

It took only a few minutes for him to clean it up enough to get to you safely on his own bare feet. Instead of you limping your way to the living room however, you found yourself swept off your feet.

Your heart raced so hard, you could hear it pounding in your ears. You were cradled against his chest, so warm and firm with his strong arms beneath your knees and shoulders. His heavenly scent surrounded you ― more intense than you’d even smelt it before. As you finally got a close look, you took notice of how his long lashes framed his pretty eyes.

All too soon, you were placed on the couch and he was disappearing down the hall with quick efficiency. You were still stunned from being in his arms that you barely noticed he had returned until he was on his knees in front of you.

Immediately, your cheeks bloomed hot with a blush. The image of him on his knees like that immediately sent your mind to a wicked place.

Luckily your dirty mind was stopped in its tracks when he began pulling glass from your foot.

You gasped in pain, attempting to pull away on reflex but he held strong, sharp gaze burning holes into you.

“Sit still,” he growled, sending a shiver down your spine.

His voice was so low, so commanding that you found yourself immediately doing what he said. You always were weak to a dominant man.

Soon enough, your foot was cleaned and he deemed that the bleeding had stopped.

“It’ll probably hurt like hell for a little while when you walk on it,” he warned, packing the first aid away.

“Thanks Hitoshi,” you smiled, earning a soft nod of acknowledgement from the man.

The memory of being in his arms, even for that brief moment, was imprinted in your mind. As you laid in bed, you thought about it. It made your stomach flutter in excitement as you fell asleep.

The fourth monthly job for Shinsou came and unfortunately, you missed him leaving. You had stayed up studying and as a result fell asleep earlier than usual. When you woke up he was already gone and you were left with a painful throb in your heart.

You missed him.

As you lazed on the couch, you found your mind wandering to him again. Like always. It was like your mind was cursed.

You wondered if he thought about you at all. The idea made you feel giddy and you had to bite back a smile. You felt like a silly schoolgirl with your crush ― the way he made your stomach flutter, your heart race, and your cheeks burn was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t like you could confess, he hadn’t given much of a hint that he even thought of you as a friend. Plus, you weren’t sure if you were willing to give up the killer apartment and perfect roommate gig you currently had with a foolish confession.

You heaved a sigh, sitting up with a new idea in mind.

A way that you could learn more about him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the...most noble means.

Standing outside his bedroom door, you bit your lip. It felt wrong to go into his room without permission. It wasn’t like he went into your room ― as far as you knew, who knows what he did while you were at school or working.

The metal doorknob was cold in your palm as you turned it and pushed it open with a soft click.

You’d seen his room in quick glances before when he opened it but you’d never gotten to fully inspect it. He had a large bed that took up the most space in his room. Situated on a dresser at the end of the bed was a TV, a Playstation set up beside it. Against the opposite wall was a desk with a gaming computer setup and a red and black gaming chair pushed in neatly.

There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor around his laundry basket and his closet was partly open to reveal his primarily monochromatic wardrobe choices.

Walking into the bedroom, you immediately got a whiff of his cologne, making you smile at the addictive scent. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, the black comforter incredibly soft beneath your hands.

You leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer, finding nothing too interesting ― a picture of him standing with a smiling boy with crazy green hair, a pink-skinned girl, and a beaming red-haired guy.

You hadn’t really given it much thought ― that he had friends. He didn’t really talk about anyone, in fact you never heard him mention anyone in his life besides his mom a few times. You did note that he texted on his phone quite a lot and sometimes you could hear him laughing and cursing from his bedroom as he played a video game. You wondered what his friends' names were, what they were like ― what it was like to be friends with Shinsou.

What you wouldn’t give to be someone...important in his life.

Sighing, you closed the drawer and moved to his dresser. Your own thoughts caused your heart to ache and you tried to brush it off by looking through the drawers for something interesting.

Fortunately, you got what you wished for.

The last drawer to the right contained a little black metal box buried beneath some clothes. You pulled it out and took a seat on the floor, pressing the button to open it. It popped open and you gaped at what you saw.

It was filled with money. More money than you’d probably ever seen in your whole life. The bills were wrapped together with rubber bands ― there had to be thousands of dollars in even a single stack. As you pulled out the bundles, you found that there were things located beneath them.

Jewels; all types. Diamond rings, necklaces, bracelets, ruby and emerald gems decorating them. You pulled out a ring and held it up, watching as he gleamed under the light.

You tucked everything back inside the box and hid it back the way you found it, shutting the drawer before standing up.

You had no idea what to think as you shut his door once again, moving to your own room. How could he have all that money hidden away like that? It was certainly shady.

Perhaps it was counterfeit? Or maybe he stole it!

And what about those jewels? Did he steal those too? Why were they hidden instead of sold off somewhere?

You had so many questions and absolutely no answers.

Suddenly you were regretting going snooping in his room.

The fifth month of living with him would have to be where things started to go downhill.

He came home from his weekend away, tired and grumpy, just wanting a relaxing shower. However, you hadn’t realized he was home so in your tired, sleep-filled daze you stumbled to the bathroom with the urgent need to pee.

You pushed the bathroom door open and halted in your tracks, heart stopping in your chest at the sight of shirtless Shinsou.

He had his back to you, displaying the angry red scratch marks that raked down the pale skin of his back, making them stand out even more. He realized you were there and spun around, eyes narrowed in a glare. With his chest in view, you could see all the hickeys and bites that trailed down his body, disappearing in the hem of his jeans that he had yet to shed.

“Get the hell out,” he snapped, ripping the door from your hand before slamming in shut in your face.

You stared at the wood for several, long seconds, stunned. You heard the shower start and snapped out of your daze. Forgetting your once desperate need to pee, you trudged back to your bedroom and quietly shut the door.

You weren’t a fool ― you knew exactly what those marks meant. You crawled under the covers and found yourself wondering what kind of woman got Hitoshi Shinsou’s attention enough to get him into bed.

And what did she have that you didn’t?

Truth be told, you couldn’t even imagine him as the type to sleep around. He wasn’t exactly sociable and he rarely seemed to go out of his way to interact even with his friends.

You could hear the shower turn off and you were suddenly reminded of the way he slammed the door in your face ― the ache from realizing he’d been with someone else only exacerbated by the knife of his shouting at you.

You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, ignoring the sting behind your eyes.

The next morning, you found yourself not wanting to get out of bed. You could hear Shinsou shuffling around the house, doing god knows what. You heard him walk down the hallway, heart freezing as he stopped in front of your bedroom door.

You closed your eyes, willing him to go away.

Luck was not on your side, however, as he knocked thrice on your door. It was loud enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to feign sleeping through it.

You sighed and crawled out of bed and trudged over to the door, pulling it open just a bit to get a look at him.

He had his head down, hand clasped around the nape of his neck with his other hand shoved in his pocket. He looked up when he heard the door open, brows drawn together as he gazed at you partially hiding behind the door.

“I uh…” he cleared his throat, “I went out and picked us up some breakfast.”

“Oh…” you shifted on your feet awkwardly, nodding your head, “Thanks...I’ll eat later.”

You were about to close the door, desperate to escape the burning in your eyes as you remembered last night. Before it could close, however, he shoved his hand in the crack. You paused, not wanting to crush his hand in the door. You let him push it open to show more of you ― clad in shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you loved to sleep in. Thankfully the shirt was big enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra.

“I have to apologize,” he grunted, meeting your gaze, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that last night. I was just ticked off…” he trailed off.

You bit your lip, “I uh...I didn’t know you were home...so that’s why I just...walked in…”

He shook his head, “No I understand, really. Y-You just surprised me and I reacted. I really need to stop taking my shit out on you, I’ll work on that, really. I shouldn’t have slammed the door like that either. It was a shit night but it wasn’t your fault you didn’t know I came home.”

“I-It’s alright, Hitoshi, really,” you smiled, though it faltered a bit at the memory of those scratches and hickeys.

“I...hope you’re not hiding away in here because I upset you,” he muttered, making you frown once more.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, looking away awkwardly, “you’re usually up around 10 and it’s...getting close to noon. You don’t do that normally so...I can only think you were trying to avoid me and that’s the last thing I want. This is your home too and I never want you to feel like you can’t be comfortable here.”

You gaped at him, processing what he was telling you. First, he paid close enough attention to you that he knew what time you got up ― that thought made happiness bloom in your chest and second, that was probably the most you’d heard him say in one sitting.

“It’s okay now, Hitoshi,” you smiled, “let me get dressed and I’ll be out to eat, okay?”

He smiled, making your cheeks burn at the sight as he nodded, turning away from you to move back to the living room. You closed your door and sighed.

It was crazy how just a simple smile from him had your heart fluttering. However, it was quickly halted by the memory that he had someone ― maybe it was a girlfriend. That made your chest ache and you bit your lip to halt those negative feelings as you stripped and changed out of your pajamas.

You had no idea how you were going to get past the painful clench in your chest every time you looked at him now.

Month six rolled around and nothing very interesting happened. Shinsou moved his playstation into the living room so the two of you could play some games together. It was a fun bonding experience and you got to watch the way his eyes would light up whenever he beat you. The sound of his laugh still rang in your ears and you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought back to that pretty smile of his.

It became a weekly thing for the two of you, every Friday night you would sit down on the couch together and play into the early hours of the morning. You got to know more about Shinsou than you had ever before.

Sometimes he would jerk his body and brush against yours, sending goosebumps across your skin. He was always so warm and inviting ― just having him near you sent your poor heart into palpitations.

You almost forgot about what happened the previous month when he came back ― those hickeys and scratches on his back finally having been cast out of your mind.

Your heart did ache when you bid him goodbye the night he left again, wondering if he was going to see her or not.

The seventh month was when that already precariously balanced life came crumbling down all at once.

Shinsou was in the shower as you played on his Playstation, sitting in front of the TV with a frown on your face. You could hear the shower running and in the back of your mind you pictured what he might look like ― water running down his flawless skin, his hands caressing. You felt an almost pitiful clench in your core at the mental image.

Your perversions were cut short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. You paused your game and groaned as you stood up, your knees popping from being sat in the same position for too long. Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and paused.

A woman stood on the other side of the door, a well-fitting black dress and fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with sparkling jewelry and you could see the red bottoms of her expensive heels. She wore vibrant red lipstick across pretty, smiling lips as she acknowledged you. However, you could see the cold gleam in her eyes that made the smile all too fake.

“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door jam.

She hummed, tucking some hair behind her ear with perfectly manicured nails, “Is Toshi here?”

“Toshi?” you raised a brow at the nickname, “He’s in the shower. What do you need?”

“Just to talk,” she replied, stepping forward like she wanted to come in. When you didn’t budge she raised a brow, “You don’t mind if I come in, right? I’m sure Toshi would love to see me.”

“Uh…” you didn’t get a chance to reply as she brushed past you, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way towards the living room, “Sure...come on in…” you whispered sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you shut the door.

You could hear the shower was turned off, indicating Shinsou would be returning in a minute. You looked at the woman as she glanced around the apartment, feeling a sting of jealousy burning within you.

Was she the girl he was dating?

“So...how do you know Hitoshi?” you asked, making her smile.

“I’m his girlfriend, of course!” she beamed, voice far too peppy for your liking.

The words sent an arrow through your heart and you looked away with a hum, ignoring the need to flee to your room and cry into the pillow like a stupid middle schooler.

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Shinsou strolled down the hall, towling his hair as he moved.

Any other time you would have drooled over the sight of a shirtless Shinsou, gym shorts hanging loose on his hips as he walked.

“Uh...Hitoshi…” you mumbled, getting his attention.

He looked up from beneath his towel, meeting your gaze before his eyes moved to the woman beside you. Immediately his eyes went wide and he stood up straight.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, startling you with how aggressive those words came out.

The girl didn’t seem too affected, merely pouting as she spoke, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You have no business being here,” he growled, jerking his head to the door, “Get out.”

“No!” she argued, walking right up to him, “I deserve answers before you throw me away like trash, Hitoshi!”

“I don’t owe you anything,” he replied coldly, breezing past both you and her to go to the kitchen. She followed him but you remained in the kitchen, listening as they argued.

“Why won’t you see me anymore?!” she cried, petulantly stomping her heeled foot.

“Because you got too damn attached,” he spat, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before walking into the living room again.

“Attached?!” she gasped, grabbing his arm to force him to look at her, “I have given you so much. How can you just break it off without a real reason! Come on, Toshi, just...be with me, you won’t have to work anymore.”

He tensed, glancing over at you at the mention of her job, jaw set, “Just get out, Kana.”

She looked over at you, a sly smile forming on her lips, “She doesn’t know what you do, does she? Is that why you’re avoiding this?”

He didn’t reply, simply glared at her. Kana scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “After all I spent on you, you have no right to just run away. You know I can treat you better than anyone else can, Hitoshi. You’re making a mistake.”

“I have plenty of other clients lined up, Kana,” he shot back, making her frown. He chuckled at the sign of weakness she showed, “What? Did you think you were the only one? No, sweetheart, I have plenty of girls waiting to spend even just one night with me. You’re not special. You’re certainly not the highest paying one either. There’s nothing of importance tying me to you. You have nothing special to offer. You got too attached, starting having feelings for me...you know it would never work with my job. So just leave before you get your feelings hurt.”

Both of you were stunned silent. You because you had never heard him speak so coldly and harshly to someone before ― even when he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Her because the words he spat out with such venom wrecked her pride and made her burn with anger.

She clenched her fists and snapped her head towards you, “Best not to get close to this prick,” she warned, her voice watery with unshed tears, “A man who makes money being a sugar baby isn’t one you want to get attached too.”

With those last words, she stormed out. The slam of the door made both you and Shinsou flinch. The silence that followed was even more deafening, however.

Shinsou cursed under his breath, running a hand through his half-dry hair.

“So...she wasn’t your girlfriend?” you asked, making him look over at you.

He was quiet for a second before chuckling under his breath, “You learn what my job is and that's the first thing you wonder?”

“Well!” you defended yourself quickly, “She introduced herself as your girlfriend!”

He shook his head, moving around the couch to take a seat, “No, she was just...a client I spent time with for a while. She started catching feelings so I cut it off and referred her to a friend of mine. Apparently...she didn’t like that.”

“How’d she know you lived here?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He shrugged, “She could have looked through my shit at some point, I suppose.”

You hummed, not wanting to push him to reveal more than he wanted to. After all, it wasn’t even his choice to expose his line of work anyway.

Well, at least you had answers on why he had all those expensive clothes, cash, and jewelry. It was good to know he wasn’t some type of shady thief in the end.

“It’s...just a really bad idea to get involved with clients,” he explained suddenly, “It’s not a relationship that’s built up on anything real. Having to pay for the company of someone is not a good foundation,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair again before looking at you, “I hope you...don’t think differently of me because of my job.”

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, “It’s not really my place to judge you, you know?”

“Thanks,” he smiled, “It’s not really something that’s as bad as people think. It gets a bad rep for having sex for money and shit but...truthfully majority of my job is just...being company to rich women. Sometimes they want to take me around to some fancy parties to show me off or go on dates because they’re lonely. Sex isn’t the majority of what I do. I mean...I will but...it’s not the most common occurrence.”

Once again, the vision of those hickeys and sex-scratches crossed your mind and you found yourself wondering what kind of woman gave him those. At least you could be assured he wasn’t going out to see his girlfriend when he went to work ― they were strictly clients.

Which meant...he was probably single.

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the hopeful idea.

“How about I order some take out?” you asked, standing up to retrieve your phone.

“Get some pizza,” he called as you disappeared down the hall.

After his occupation was revealed to you, things began to look up. He became more open and carefree around you ― as he no longer had a big secret to hide. He didn’t really talk about his work but he wasn’t hiding it from you either.

You decided not to ask too many questions, knowing you’d only burn up in jealousy at the idea. You knew you didn’t really have a right to be jealous since you weren’t his girlfriend or anything but you couldn’t help it either.

The peaceful feeling didn’t last long, however. Once the fire started burning, it had no other choice but to rage.

“You should really just tell him, _____!” your friend, Uraraka whined, head against the table.

“It’s seriously painful,” Momo agreed, “All this pining is making me sick.”

“Oh real nice,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee.

It felt nice to hang around with your friends for once ― it wasn’t something you frequently got the opportunity to do.

Just as Uraraka was about to open her mouth and reply, a looming shadow dropped over the table. You all looked over to find the familiar blonde hair and wide grin.

“Kaminari,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey _____,” he waved before tucking his hands in his pockets, “Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while but...would you like to go out with me sometime?”

The question left you stunned.

You weren’t super close to Denki Kaminari, you shared a few general studies classes. He was a goofy, excitable guy who always seemed to know how to light up a room. Everyone around him was always in a good mood, in general he was just a very positive person.

Not just that but he wasn’t too bad to look at either; with his pretty, wide eyes and sharp jawline. The black lightning bolt streak through his hair just made him look even more charming.

But you hesitated, your mind drifting to Shinsou.

Sighing, you bit your lip, “Can I get back to you on that?”

He smiled, nodding his head, obviously relieved you didn’t tell him a flat out no, “No problem. I’ll see you later!”

Once he was gone, a sharp smack landed on your back making you cry out.

“Why didn’t you give him an answer?!” Momo cried.

“Denki’s a great guy, _____! You should do it!” Uraraka added.

You shrugged, “It’s just…”

“If you’re holding out hoping something will miraculously happen with stupid Shinsou, it’s a stupid idea,” Momo said, making you pout that she had read you so easily.

“Just tell him how you feel, _____,” Uraraka sighed, “If he rejects you, you can accept Denki’s date!”

You sighed but didn’t reply. Your two friends shared a look before changing the topic, drawing the attention away from your hopeless crush on your roommate.

When you got home, you were filled with a sense of urgency. Shinsou wasn’t in the living room so you went to his bedroom, knocking a few times on the door before he opened it.

“Hey,” he greeted, a tired smile on his face, “Welcome home.”

“Hitoshi,” you swallowed thickly, steeling yourself.

He frowned, “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed.

“Okay,” he stepped aside, waving you into his room.

You hesitated for a second, realizing that there would be no turning back once you walked inside. The door shutting behind you echoed in your head. He moved past you to take a seat on his computer chair. The screen was lit up behind him, indicating he had probably been playing something before you interrupted.

“I’m all ears,” he said softly, relaxing back in his seat.

“I…” you shifted on your feet, biting your lip, “I got asked out on a date.”

He raised his brow, cocking his head to the side. Part of you had hoped you would see some hint of jealousy from him at your words but his face remained as steely as ever.

“And...you want advice or something?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “I want to know if…” you took in a deep breath, “If you like me before I accept him.”

He was silent for what felt like an eternity, just staring at you. Shinsou was always the type of man to think before he spoke, running through all possibilities before opening his mouth. His throat moved as he swallowed, a soft sigh coming from his nose.

“You...have a crush on me, or something?” he asked, making you deflate slightly.

“Yes,” you admitted, “And...if you don’t like me back then I’ll accept this boy’s date. There’s no reason for me to wait around and hope you’ll like me back when I could be out meeting someone new.”

He nodded his head, quieting once more. You watched as he stood up, taking a few steps towards you, “_____…” you heart clenched at his tone, knowing what was coming, “My job...it doesn’t leave me room for personal relationships.”

Despite how much you prepared yourself for it, hearing him reject you hurt. You nodded, forcing yourself not to cry as you backed up towards the door.

“Alright then,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning your back to him, “I guess I’ll accept Kaminari’s date then.”

As you walked out his door, you didn’t see the pained look in his eyes. Your name lingered on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t dare speak out. The click of his door was deafening in his ears and when you were gone he sighed, hanging his head as he sat on the edge of his bed, feeling like an idiot.

The next day, you hunted down Kaminari, telling him you’d love to go out on a date with him. He was thrilled, going off excitedly about how he couldn’t believe you actually accepted him and that he would make it the best date ever.

And truth be told, the date was a blast. You had told him you’d never been to laser tag before and immediately he said that was exactly what you do then. The sound of Denki’s laughter still echoed in your ears as he lost to you, accusing you of cheating in a lighthearted tone.

You didn’t see much of Shinsou after you started seeing Kaminari. Although it was casual, you spent a good bit of time hanging out with him ― he began eating with you, Uraraka, and Momo on campus and the two of you texted often.

It seemed that Shinsou wasn’t making a big effort to hang out with you anyway. As much as that hurt, you knew it was for the best. It spared you a lot of hurt and him of the awkwardness of living with a girl who had a crush on him.

It was fair enough, you mused.

But when you laid in bed at night, your phone on silent and the faint sound of Shinsou’s voice floating through the walls as he gamed with his friends, you felt the now familiar tug on your heart. You longed to be with him.

But you knew it was pointless now.

You’d been seeing Kaminari for a month when he showed up on your doorstep to pick you up. Usually you would leave and meet him but due to the rain, he opted to pick you up and save you both from the hassle.

You were in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup when the doorbell rang. Before you could react, you heard Shinsou open the door.

You quickly grabbed your purse, tossing the strap over your shoulder as you opened your door. You could hear their voices carrying down the hallway.

“Holy shit!” Kaminari laughed, “What a small world ― it’s been a while Hitoshi!”

“Denki,” Shinsou greeted curtly.

“You ______’s roommate?” Kaminari asked, tucking his hands in his pockets as he waited for you, “She’s talked about you a bit. Didn’t know it was you, though, man!”

“Denki―” Shinsou was about to say something more but was cut off by your entrance.

“Hey there babydoll!” Kaminari greeted with a grin, holding his hand out for you to take, “See you later, Hitoshi!”

Shinsou didn’t respond as he watched the two of you leave, his jaw set tight as he held himself back from calling out.

You felt like you’d never been more angry in your life as you stormed home. Things had been going so well between you and Kaminari, you felt like you could genuinely start to like him. You enjoyed his company and began to think less and less about one purple haired roommate of yours.

You slammed the front door, startling poor Shinsou on the couch. He turned around, eyes wide at the blazing anger visible on your face.

“What the hell is your problem, Shinsou?!” you cried, kicking your shoes off and tossing your backpack to the floor.

“Huh?” he raised a brow dumbly, only fanning the flames of your rage.

“You…” you heaved, fists clenched, “Who do you think you are?! Telling Denki to break it off with me?!”

Realization quickly flashed over his face and he groaned, standing up, “I didn’t tell him to break up with you!” he argued. You opened your mouth to retort but he put his hand up to stop you, “I just told him to think it over. Do you know how we know each other, ____?”

“No,” you shook your head, tossing your hands up, “What does it matter? You still have no right to interfere in my relationship!”

“He’s in the same line of work I am!” he snapped, rounding the couch, “He does the same exact thing I do.”

You paused, letting the information sink in, “Why does that matter?”

He shook his head, “Do you really want to be with a guy who spends his nights in bed with women, _____? That’s not exactly the easiest job to trust a man with.”

You didn’t have a retort, “I thought...the majority of the job was just being a companion.”

Shinsou sighed, taking a seat once more, “It really depends on the guy. Denki is pretty popular because he loves to get his dick wet.”

You thought those words would make you feel jealous. The idea of the guy you were seeing fucking other women should make you feel something but instead...you felt almost relieved. Still, it didn’t simmer the anger you felt towards Shinsou at putting his nose in your business.

“You should have come to me and told me your concerns, Shinsou,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, “Instead of going behind my back for me to be dumped.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, biting his lip, “I just...wanted to see if Denki was still the same as he was when I last knew him. It’s just how it happened. I am sorry.”

Sensing his apology was sincere, you relaxed and nodded, “I’ve got to study.”

With that, you hid away in your room.

You couldn’t deny you still felt a bit ticked off with him but at least you were able to move past it. You realized you weren’t truly attached to Kaminari, you were just using him to shove your feelings for Shinsou away ― a pretty dick move on your part. So you were relieved to be out of the relationship.

Unfortunately, this left you with Shinsou once more. Where he once was pushed from your mind for the most part, he now resumed plaguing your thoughts.

You couldn’t deny how tired you were.

It was emotionally exhausting feeling your heart race at the mere sight of him only for it to ache when you remembered there was no chance in hell he’d even give you the time of day.

Things reached a head when he returned from work. Eleven months in and all the negative feelings and tension finally culminated.

“Hey Shinsou,” you called, finding him leaning against the kitchen island with a cereal bar in his hands.

He looked over his shoulder, an unusually cold look in his eyes as he regarded you, “What?”

You tried not to flinch at the tone, frowning, “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he snapped and you sighed, realizing he was in one of his moods, “What do you want?”

“I...nevermind,” you shrugged, “We’ll talk when you’re in a better mood.”

You hadn’t meant for it to be something to piss him off further. You truly meant that you would wait until he felt better to talk. For some reason, however, he took it wrong.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled, pushing himself off of the counter to storm up to you.

“Nothing!” you defended, “I don’t want to get into anything with you, okay?”

“If you have something to say then just say it!” he snapped, making you shake your head.

“No!” you argued, turning on your heel to storm into your bedroom.

Before you could get very far, however, a tight hand was wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back.

“Don’t fucking run from me!” his tone sent shivers down your spine, the angry fire burning in his eyes finally snapping something inside you.

“I am so fucking tired of this!” you tore your arm from his grip, not missing the frustrated grunt he gave in response, “This shit isn’t working anymore, Shinsou! You clearly don’t know what the hell to do with yourself; you come home from working and you’re in a shit mood and you take it out on me. Then you act like everything is perfectly fine. You know how I feel about you, so you can’t even pretend that doesn’t have anything to do with your behavior. In fact, I know it affects you because why else would you have convinced the only guy I’ve seen in the past like two years to dump me like trash! All over this stupid fucking job of yours. I don’t want to deal with the shitty way you make me feel, Shinsou!”

“So?” he snapped, teeth bared.

“So I’m gonna fucking move out!” you threatened, standing nose to nose with him.

His eyes narrowed and he let out a humourless laugh, “Fine! The sooner the better!”

With those last words he stormed past you, slamming his bedroom door with deafening finality.

You were left alone in the living room, fists clenched as tears you’d held back so long finally broke free.

A stupid purple haired idiot was not worth being hurt so much over. That you were sure of.

It’s not like he even cared, apparently.

With that thought finally pushing you into action, you returned to your own room to begin looking for new housing.

In all your time living with him, the longest you went without seeing him was two days. Once a month when he went to work ― that was the only length of time you didn’t see him every day.

Now, however, the two of you were avoiding each other like the plague. You had been busting your ass finding a new apartment, going to school, and working as usual. Shinsou had been hiding in his room the majority of the time.

You even stopped cooking.

Part of you wondered if he even noticed. Deep down, however, you knew he probably didn’t care.

He would just get a new roommate and go on like usual. Like you had never existed.

At least you’d be able to get over him then.

It took a month before you found a decent place. It was nowhere near as nice as your current one but there was nothing you could do about that. Your situation with Shinsou was unique and you knew you were never gonna have an opportunity like this again.

You came to terms with that.

Wandering out of your room, you were surprised to find him sitting on the couch. His nose was buried in his phone but the TV played his usual shows.

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your voice even. He grunted in response, not looking up, “I found a place. I’ll be out by the end of the week.”

He didn’t say anything and you sighed, feeling your eyes burn.

How you wished he would say something to stop you ― to show you that the past year wasn’t a huge waste of time and that you really meant nothing to him. You felt you could have at least called yourselves friends but...apparently that was one sided.

The thought hurt so you escaped to your room once again to hide.

The night before your move, you were laying in bed playing a game on your phone. Laying on your back, you held the screen up and tapped your thumbs aggressive against the screen. Your momentum was lost by three sharp knocks on your door. You cried out as your phone fell from your hand and dropped on your face.

“Shit,” you groaned, tossing it away and getting up from bed.

Opening the door, your words caught in your throat at the sight of Hitoshi Shinsou’s sleepy gaze fixated on you. His hand was clasped around the nape of his neck and he was looking away nervously.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” his head snapped towards you, eyes wide before you realized how that sounded, “I-I mean I thought you were supposed to be gone! You know...to work.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he shrugged, “I cancelled. I...wanted...no, I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”

You stood there for a few seconds, thinking it over before stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a tight lipped smile before you shut the door behind him. Turning to face him, you took note of the way his free hand was shoved into his sweats pocket. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

“What...what did you need?” you asked, sitting on the edge of your bed.

He remained standing, obviously thinking over his words carefully. His back was to you, his figure hunched slightly in his usual posture. But you couldn’t miss the tension his form held.

“I never intended this to become a long-term thing,” for a moment you thought he was talking about your living arrangement but before you could refute, he was turning to you, “This sugar baby thing, that is. I had a friend who did it and made some good money from it and eventually I got into the scene and realized just how good it could pay. It’s been like 2 or 3 years now since I’ve been at it.”

He dropped his hand from around his neck, beginning to pace around your room to gaze at your various knick-knacks. He paused at the few boxes you had packed up already, a frown marring his face.

“I make even more money by selling the presents I get. Sometimes the clients will give me jewelry or clothes, I always sell them,” he sighed, picking up a snow globe that sat atop your dresser, shaking it mindlessly to watch the fake snow float around the glass.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked softly.

“The truth is, I hate the majority of my job,” he confessed, ignoring your question, “Most of the people are pretentious assholes who think they’re better than me because they pay me. I don’t mind being arm candy, it doesn’t really bother me. And not gonna lie sometimes the sex is bomb,” he chuckled almost lifelessly and you ignored the pang in your chest at his words, “But the position I’m in forces me to basically do whatever they want me to. Naturally, I have limits and shit but if they want to dominate me I let them and that sucks.”

“Hitoshi,” you grumbled, making him look at you, “Why are you telling me about your sexual preferences?”

“Oh right…” he shook his head, “I hate doing it because I don’t have much control in my life because of it,” he looked at you with fierce eyes, “That’s why...I want to say fuck it.”

Before you could respond, he was walking up to you, cupping your cheek in a warm hand. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him as he moved close to you, his lips brushing yours.

“It’s been so fucking painful letting you go,” he whispered, “Having to reject you and let you go out with fucking Denki nearly broke me down, not gonna lie. I didn’t want him to hurt you, that’s why I interfered...but I also...didn’t want to let him have you when I wanted you so damn bad myself.”

Your heartbeat stuttered as you stared up at him, wide eyed, “D-Does that mean you…”

He nodded, “Shit, I’ve liked you for so long, _____. It’s been so hard not telling you how I feel every single day.”

“Hitoshi,” you likced your lips, reaching up to fist the front of his shirt. He hummed before you spoke again, “Please kiss me.”

There was a quick flash of his smile before his lips met yours ― every bit as soft as you expected them to be. You could faintly taste toothpaste on his lips but you didn’t mind one bit, he probably tasted the same from you.

His hand moved from your cheek to your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own hands moved around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

You quickly found yourself on your back, his hand wandering up the hem of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach. You whimpered, fisting his hair as you kept him locked in a kiss. He didn’t seem to mind, simply sighing against your lips.

You still had questions but you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping this so you tucked them into the back of your mind, devoting yourself to what was right in front of you.

Shinsou sat up just slightly, breaking the kiss. You almost whined but the feeling of his hand creeping upwards towards your bare breast stopped you.

“Is this okay?” he asked for your consent, pausing before he actually touched you.

“Very,” you breathed, tugging him back down for another kiss.

Immediately, he cupped your breast, thumbing your already erected nipple. You gasped into his mouth, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Sensitive?” he asked, pecking your lips before suddenly sitting back.

This time you did whine at the loss. He flashed you a fond smile before pushing the hem of your shirt up to your neck, revealing your chest to his greedy eyes.

“D-Don’t just stare,” you complained, feeling your cheeks burn as he admired your body.

“Sorry,” he replied insincerely, cupping your breast once more, “You have such pretty tits, you know? I couldn’t help it.”

You scoffed but it turned into a choked gasp as he enveloped your pert bud in his hot mouth, wet tongue lashing against it before he pulled away with a firm suck. You wrapped your hands in those soft, purple tresses and whined. His other hand came up to pinch your other nipple, making sure to give it just as much attention.

“Toshi…” you whined, tugging his hair until he pulled away, his lips swollen.

“What is it, baby?” he hummed, nosing at your neck to press soft kisses there.

“T-Take your shirt off,” you breathed, tugging at the hem until you were able to pull it over his head with a bit of assistance.

Once he was as shirtless as you, your hands began to wander to touch every bit of skin you had long to for so long. He let you explore, letting out a soft sigh when you brushed over one of his hardened nipples. You didn’t linger in one place for long, quickly growing too curious at the sight of his member straining against those damn sweatpants he always wore.

His head tipped back as you palmed him through the fabric, quickly noticing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Eagerly, you dipped your fingers beneath the hem and pulled his cock free, your fingers not even able to touch once wrapped around.

He was thick, a curve to his length that you just knew would hit a certain spot inside of you that would make you lose your mind. The head was a flushed red color, leaking precum that you used to give him a couple easy strokes.

He reached down, grabbing your wrist to stop you before slipping his own hand down the hem of your shorts and panties.

Your hips bucked the second his fingers made contact with your folds ― already dripping wet and coating his digits generously. He gave a few soft circles to your clit, testing your sensitivity before finding the pressure that had you cunt clenching around nothing.

You whined, grinding your hips against his touch in hopes he’d slip at least one of those long fingers into you. Thankfully, you were granted your wish and more as he easily slid his middle and ring fingers in.

He groaned as you walls tightly clenched around him, trying to desperately pull him back in whenever he pulled them out slightly.

“Feel good?” he breathed, already knowing the answer but craving your praise.

“So good,” you whimpered, biting your lip. He curled his fingers suddenly, nailing that sweet, spongy spot on your upper wall, “Right there!” you gasped.

He grinned, massaging that one pleasure-point with vigor, “Yeah? Right there, kitten?”

You keened at the name, walls clenching. He groaned at the feeling, suddenly pulling his hand free from your shorts. You didn’t have time to complain before he was tugging the remaining articles down your legs to toss away.

He moved with practice expertise, grabbing you beneath the thighs to pin them open. Your wet cunt was exposed to his all too greedy eyes. He licked his lips at the sight, making your cheeks burn.

Before you knew it, he was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, tugging you down just a bit so your ass was almost hanging off the edge. The position left you completely at his mercy. He knew it too.

You watched with bated breath as he spread your folds open ― revealing the shiny, pink hole that continuously dripped your arousal. It clenched beneath his leering gaze and he groaned.

“Fuck!” you squealed when he dove forward to wrap his lips around your hardened clit.

He hummed at your taste, sending vibrations through the little bud. He quickly abandoned that in favor of getting a full taste of your juices. Tonguing your entrance, he reveled in how tight you were around his tongue.

You reached down, tanging your fingers in his hair as he ate you with all he had. His tongue worked expertly to circle your clit before dipping back down to your hole once again.

“Please, put your fingers in,” you begged, desperate to be filled.

He quickly obliged, slipping two long digits into your clenched pussy before mouthing over your clit eagerly. He could already feel you clenching sporadically around him and he couldn’t resist setting a quick pace, hammering against your sweet spot with every movement.

Your muscles were taught as you felt that glorious high building up. Soft pleas left your lips as your back arched.

“Gonna cum, kitten?” he tasted, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Y-Yeah!” you sobbed, abandoning your hold on his hair to tear at your blankets ― not wanting to hurt him in your throes of pleasure.

“Cum then,” the casual way he said those words flicked a switch and you were cumming.

He groaned through your high, feeling your cunt spasm around him. He felt your cum gush from around his digits, soaking them as you clit throbbed beneath the pad of his tongue. Once your body began to relax, he pulled away.

Your thighs slammed shut once he was out of the way, your muscles trembling through the intense aftershocks. While you were coming down, he stripped himself of his sweats, popping his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth with a groan as he fisted his cock to the sight of you trembling.

The fact he made you cum so hard was a boost to his ego and he didn’t bother fighting the prideful grin on his face. Sweat coated your skin and made your hair stick to your neck.

After several seconds, he climbed onto the bed and maneuvered you so your head was in the pillows. You bit your lip and grinned slyly at him as he climbed onto the bed.

“Shit uh…” he looked around your room quickly, a frown on his lips. You looked up at him curiously before he explained, “Condom?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, “D-Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?” he gaped down at you.

You shrugged, “I’m on the pill and well...I’m sure you use condoms with you...job, right?”

“Always,” he blinked.

“Then…” you wiggled your hips at him with a cheeky grin.

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Reaching between the two of you, he gripped his cock and tapped the head of it against your folds. Your thighs jumped as he slapped lightly against your sensitive clit.

Finally, he began to press into you and your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch his cock gave you. He clenched his teeth, letting you soft groans as he sunk more of his length into you. Your walls gripped him so tightly, spasming and clenching as he was fully seated within you.

The two of you had to pause before continuing, the feeling of him filling you up too much. His cock was thick, making you feel like he was stuffing you full.

“Please,” you begged, fisting the pillows on either side of your head as he sat back on his heels.

Gazing between your thighs, he nearly lost it at the sight of your cunt stretched tight to accommodate him. He thumbed over your clit, receiving a sharp cry from your lips.

“Fuck...you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, circling his hips against yours with a groan, “I can feel you clenching so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum again, huh?”

“Yes!” you cried quickly, mouth agape as he gave a sudden thrust, “Please make me cum!”

He shushed you, rubbing his thumbs over your hips, “Don’t worry, kitten, I got you...I’ll get you there.”

Before you could respond, he was setting an almost brutal pace. You always imagined what Shinsou would be like in bed ― you pictured it too many times at night. Sometimes you imagined he would take it slow with deep, intense thrusts. Other times you’d picture exactly this; rough, harsh thrusts that you were sure were going to leave you sore when the morning came.

You had no complaints though.

Hitoshi gripped you beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest as he fucked you. Your cunt gushed around him, making lewd, wet noises reverberate around the room and mingle with your mixed moans. He let out groans of pleasure, strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead.

You couldn’t help but admire the sight of him ― muscles rippling and moving with the force of his thrusts. Reaching up, you pulled him closer against you, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades.

He winced but you felt his cock twitch at the pinch of pain inflicted as a result. You thought back to what you saw that one night ― the marks some random woman left on his body. Suddenly, you were overcome with the need to mark him as yours.

Catching him by surprise, you managed to flip him over, straddling his waist, using his strong chest as leverage to fuck yourself on his thick cock. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, almost hitting your cervix every time you sunk down on him. He gripped your hips, assisting your movements as he tossed his head back into the pillows.

“Shit, that’s it, kitten,” he praised, reaching up to pinch one of your nipples.

You keened at the praise, leaning down to deliver a sharp bite against his shoulder, sucking at the skin until a bright red mark bloomed. You eyed it proudly, biting your lip as you ground against his cock, making sure your clit got the attention it needed.

Shinsou bucked into you, making you whine as he started a steady pace of bouncing. Your thighs burned but it was worth the sight of having him beneath you. The way he stared up at you, as if you were a goddess made your heart race.

“Toshi…” you whined, leaning back to steady yourself on his thighs as he started to thrust up into you.

“What is it, babygirl?” he grunted, gripping your hips tightly as he fucked his thick cock into your gushing cunt.

“Make me cum, please!” you begged, biting your lip.

He grinned, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad of it, “I got you, baby.”

Before you could think of a response, he was circling his thumb around your clit, the bud desperate for attention. Your body tensed with just a few quick circles of his thumb, his cock angled against your g-spot so perfectly that you immediately reached your high.

Through your own cries of pleasure, you heard him moaning alongside you before he froze, his cock buried deep inside you as he came. His cock throbbed and pulsed with every jet of hot cum he released into your clenching walls.

All at once, things stilled. You both relaxed against each other. His cock was still stuffed inside you, softening as his cum leaked out around him to make a mess between the two of you. You laid your head against his chest, his large hand cupping the back of it, pressing soft kisses against your forehead until your heartbeats finally slowed to a reasonable pace.

“Let’s take a bath, baby,” he groaned as he sat up, keeping you secure in his lap.

You were surprised he could carry you so easily after he nearly fucked the very life out of you.

Soon enough, you found yourself surrounded by sweet-smelling water with a fucked-out Shinsou cuddling against your back.

“Not to...ruin this afterglow bliss,” you hummed, leaning back against him as the warm water ripped around you, “But what brought this confession on suddenly? I thought you said your job doesn’t allow room for relationships.”

He was quiet for several, long seconds before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, “I didn’t think it was fair to let myself be with you when I was going out once a month to hang around with a bunch of women. It isn’t something I want to put you through.”

“So you’re going to quit?” you asked.

He nodded, “I probably won’t be able to make enough money to keep this place but...if it means I can have you without feeling like shit about hurting you, then yeah. It’ll be worth it, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you just…” you bit your lip, pausing.

“What?” you questioned, gripping your chin to make you look at him, “Talk to me.”

You hummed, “Just stop with the sex and kissing stuff...just be arm candy, like you said. Hang out with them. They’ll still pay for that, right?”

He raised a brow, shifting so he could look better at your face, “You’d be okay with me going to hang out with a bunch of women who want nothing more than to sit on my dick?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat, your cheeks burning, “As long as only I get to sit on your dick then it’ll be fine. I trust you, Hitoshi.”

He was quiet once again before a smile fell across his lips, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, “We’ll talk more about it later. Let’s just relax.”

He tucked you against his chest, leaning back against the porcelain of the tub. With his fingers caressing across your skin, you allowed yourself to drift off ― finally wrapped up in those damn arms you dreamed of.

#bnha x reader #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha smut #shinsou smut #afton.writes

4K notes · View notes

chasingpj · 3 years

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬

"I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 4,931

warnings: none

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! this is part one of a self-insert series I'm working on. in this story, y/n is a child of hecate, and this storyline follows the books. the current timeline here is post sea of monsters and will continue through the Heroes of Olympus books. though it follows the original plot, y/n has her own storyline and quests. i tried to make y/n gender-neutral but as I continued to work on the timeline for this project, i had decided that this fic is for a fem reader. guys, this is really just me projecting my fantasy into fanfiction lol. i feel like this is a slow start?? and there is a lot of info dumped in this so bear with me. it'll get better and I'll be working to improve my writing as the series continues. I was on a writing hiatus for a really long time and I'm out of practice so this is my way to get back and hopefully, exceed the skills I had when I was a consistent writer. anyways, if you have any feedback, let me know! I'd love to hear what you think. as i get deeper into the series, i might ask for some suggestions on what to do with the fic. anyways, i'll stop rambling and i hope you like it!

Part One Part Two

You ignore the aching in your neck as your focus is fixed on the herbology book in front of you. You’ve been seated at your desk for Zeus knows how long reading and taking notes in your Book of Shadows, determined to finish reading it as fast as possible. Your half-brother, Alabaster, insisted that you need to memorize all the herbs and their properties before he can properly teach you how to use them in potions. Even though you understand its importance, you hated introductory work. You are itching to get to the real stuff, resulting in you glued to your chair, studying through the night as your cabin mates were fast asleep in their beds. But as determined as you are, Ambrose, your familiar, wasn’t much help. Ambrose whines as he rubs his head against your legs like a needy kitten, making it difficult to ignore him.

“What is it, Ambrose?” You whisper, sitting back in your chair in defeat. You take a second to massage the back of your sore neck before turning to face the translucent hound sitting attentively at your side. His tail sweeps the floor as it wags excitedly, and a short huff leaves his snout as if he was proud to have finally gotten your attention.

Your eyes meet his, racking your mind to figure out what Ambrose needs to tell you. At first, you thought he wanted to play, but you didn’t have time for that, so you decided to ignore him. Usually, after being ignored for a while, Ambrose will give up, finding something else to occupy him. But tonight, he was particularly persistent, and he’s only like this when he needs to tell you something.

Before you can ask what he wanted again, Ambrose gets up from his seated position, running over to the small table that stands beside your bed. You furrow your eyebrows, the first thing you notice when you walk over are your crystals neatly placed in front of your spell books as usual. Seeing them made you suddenly remember what you had planned to do.

You had told Ambrose to remind you to charge your crystals and collect water from the lake since there is a full moon tonight and of course, Ambrose being your loyal companion, did exactly that. Before looking down at the hound, who now is breathing heavily, his tail somehow wagging faster than before, you smile to yourself.

“I told you to remind me earlier, didn’t I?” Ambrose snorts and runs around your feet enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement as you reached down to pat his head. “Good boy. What would I do without you?” You continue to praise him, grabbing a black pouch and carefully placing the crystals in it. You put your index finger to your lips, signaling Ambrose to be a little quieter despite his excitement. If he accidentally wakes anyone up, then you definitely weren’t going to be able to fulfill your plans.

You bite your bottom lip as you tiptoe out of the aisle between the bunks. You look around the notoriously cramped Hermes Cabin to make sure your assumption that everyone was asleep by now was correct. It wasn’t hard to make out the faces of your cabin mates since seeing clearly in the dark was one of your many gifts, so you carefully walked along the bunks, being as quiet as you could. You are especially cautious as you approach the front where your cabin leaders, the Stoll brothers, slept. You study them for a second, knowing for sure Travis was asleep since he was snoring and loudly at that. Before you can check if Connor is asleep, you hear him shifting in his bed. You stand frozen in your spot, hesitantly looking over and you were expecting to be met with the usual mischievous grin. Instead, his back was towards you now. You have a feeling in your gut that he wasn't asleep, the timing of his moving was much too convenient. You really didn't want to wait any longer though so you decide that you might as well leave before he could stop you.

You turn on your heels, walking over to the window before you push it open. You cringe softly as the hinges creak, and you look back at the cabin to double-check if anyone has woken up from the sound. You sigh in relief when you see no one has moved, and you turn back to the window, carefully crawling out of it. This wasn’t unusual for you. You’ve done this so many times that using windows as a mode of exiting and entering a room was as natural to you as walking in and out of a door, and soon you were hopping down onto the grass. Your back is pressed against the cabin as you walk the side of it. You look up at the trees and the sky, eyes scoping around for any harpies hanging around. After deeming that you were alone, you begin making your way to the lake, Ambrose walking by your side attentively and cautiously to make sure you are safe.

The night was clear; the stars and especially the moon shone brightly in the sky. You sigh softly, taking in the stillness of the night, admiring the glistening lake reflecting the full moon placed above it. You’ve always enjoyed how quiet and cool the nights were, preferring it more than the daytime.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid it as much as you wish to. Most of your siblings can agree with you that they’d prefer to sleep in most days so that they can study and practice their magic at night. However, that wasn’t the schedule of the Hermes Cabin. It was pretty impossible to sleep in since the mornings were always hectic. In fact, the cabin was just hectic, period. There was always something going on, whether it was an elaborate prank or the guys arguing over who gets to shower first after coming back from training which usually resulted in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. You can’t say that you didn’t like it; at least you were entertained.

You also always had someone to talk to, and because there were often new campers coming in and out of there, you have easily familiarized yourself with a lot of the kids at camp. However, like your mother, you did enjoy and yearn for the occasional periods of solitude. As fun as living with the Hermes kids was, you and your siblings did find yourselves getting a little irritable at their shenanigans. It was at those times, you did wish that your mother, Hecate, had a designated cabin.

You and your siblings had always said if they ever got a cabin of their own, they would make sure everyone had separate rooms and would have designated spaces to socialize and practice their magic so that it was quiet for the most part. Alabaster, especially, was really passionate about this topic. He complained how it didn’t make sense that your mother wasn't recognized since you and your siblings were a powerful little bunch. You all needed a space to practice your magic and practice preferably at night since you were the most powerful at that time of day; you were also less prone to making mistakes in your spell casting at night. You agreed with him and would get upset about it sometimes, but the Hermes Cabin was a place you considered to be a second home. The communal feel of the space was something you enjoyed, it was one of the few places where you felt fully accepted which was rare to find being a demi-god with abilities like yours. In return to the Hermes Cabin welcoming you with open arms, you accept the inconveniently loud environment as an admirable quirk and went on with your days.

Then to compensate for the lack of silence and solitude, you would often stay up late, taking advantage of the quiet to focus on your studies. Even if you had to sacrifice the amount of sleep you got, you felt like it was worth it.

It doesn’t take you long to arrive at the dock, sitting down close to the end with your legs folded under you. You first collect lake water in a jar before carefully taking out the pouch's crystals. Assuming you had only a few left in the pouch after laying most of them on the dock, you tilt it with your hand under it, only for the crystals to come out all at once. You fumble, hands trying to bring them to your chest, but with your luck, one of your crystals falls right into the water with a plop.

“Dammit!” You peer over the edge and groan, Ambrose whining at your misfortune as he stands beside you. You look down at the water, noticing Ambrose’s and your dim reflection in it. There was no way you could get that crystal now because you didn't know how to swim, and you consider that maybe tomorrow you can convince your twin brother, Atticus, to look for it or Alabaster if Atticus refused, which you were expecting him to.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat, jumping back as a head of dark hair abruptly pops up from right where you were staring. Ambrose barks loudly next to you, equally as startled, and your eyes widen. You stand up hastily at the realization that Ambrose's loud barks in the dead of night will catch the attention of the harpies, and right now, that was more important to you than the mysterious person that just sprouted up in the water like a zombie coming out of a grave.

“Shush! Ambrose, quiet!” Your frantic command was enough to make him stop with a whine, and you sigh shakily, turning towards the camp to check if there were any harpies.

“I think you dropped something.” Ambrose moves in front of you protectively, a low growl coming from his chest as he cautiously studies the person. You look back where the voice came from and to your surprise and your relief, you find that the mysterious person in the lake was no other than Percy Jackson. You never had a conversation with him before, but you definitely knew about him. It was kind of hard not to know who he is since he’s been the talk of the camp since he’s arrived. Your thoughts about him weren’t any different from most of the camp. You’ve seen him fight and use his powers during capture the flag, and you were just as impressed as everyone else. You did have to admit that you found him to be pretty cute too. His eyes were gorgeous, clear, and bright like a shallow, cyanic sea. You also found it adorable how his hair always looked a little disheveled.

Your (e/c) eyes met Percy’s green ones before looking at your rose quartz in his hand. You smile sheepishly, noticing the amused look on his face.

“Ah, yeah, that’s mine.” You walk over to him, but as you get closer, so does Ambrose, and his growls get louder. "Ambrose, heel. It's okay," you say softly, and he stops in his place, but his stance is still at alert, his eyes watching Percy cautiously. You pat Ambrose's head before walking past him and over to Percy. "Thanks," you smile, taking your rose quartz from his hand.

"No problem… I don't think your ghost dog likes me," Percy jokes, moving to look past your legs at Ambrose, who’s standing tall on your left side.

"Yeah, well, you kinda scared the crap out of us," you point out, amused. You take in Percy's goofy smile as he pulls himself up from the water, and you notice that he’s completely dry as he settles on the edge before turning his body to look at you.

“It’s y/n, right?” He asks, and you nod, figuring he’s probably heard about you in passing from Connor and Travis since he was friends with them too. “What are you doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you retort playfully, making him smile. You move to sit down where you were standing. You spread the crystals neatly on the wood, making a mental note to get them before you go to bed.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to hang out, but then a hippocampus swam up. One of its friends got stuck in a fisher's net not too far from here, so I went to help," he explains, and you nod. "I told you my excuse, so what's yours?"

You hum, "It's a full moon out tonight, so I thought I should take my crystals out. I also needed moon water for a potion, so I collected some for that," you point over at the big mason jar full of lake water. "It’s not as cool as your excuse,” you say playfully.

A short laugh comes from Percy, and when you look up from your crystals, you notice he was looking at Ambrose again, who was still in his tense stance. Ambrose was especially protective of you and Atticus, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be cautious of the new people you come across. You assumed that Ambrose was particularly tense with Percy since he had successfully caught you both by surprise.

"Ambrose, relax.” You pat the top of his head to soothe him. "Lay down." Ambrose whines, licking your hand affectionately for a little, and you can tell he was still uneasy about the other. He was hesitant, but he follows your command anyway, laying down with his head on your lap.

"You can touch him?" Percy asks, his eyes wide and curious as he watches you pet Ambrose.

"Yeah, I can touch ghosts in general. My mother is Hecate, goddess of necromancy, along with magic, the night and the moon," you tell him. "This is Ambrose. My mother gifted him to me to be my familiar, kinda like a guardian." You look down at the hound, smiling softly as you scratch behind his ear softly.

Ambrose is a burly Molossian Hound who lived in the time of Alexander The Great. From what your father told you, his breed was well valued in Ancient Greek and Roman times and was often used in war. It is easy to understand why the breed was used in war. Ambrose is huge and muscular, about 6 feet tall when he stands on his hind legs, and he weighs around 200 pounds. At first, Ambrose can come off as a little intimidating. You remember how your siblings had avoided him when you first arrived at camp before they realized that he was the clearest definition of a gentle giant. Even though he was trained to fight when he was alive, he was still as gentle as a well-trained house dog unless he was given a reason not to be.

"When did you get him?" Percy asks, his eyes focusing on Ambrose’s translucent body that looked like it is made up of this gray swirling vapor. He couldn’t exactly wrap his head around how Ambrose’s head was comfortably propped up on your thigh.

"We met on the night I was on my way to Camp so about 2 years ago. Without him, my brother and I probably would have never made it to the borders.” You look up at Percy, meeting his eyes again; you watch as his face softens as he shifts to lean back on his hand.

"Really?" You hum and nod, ready to drop the conversation there, thinking you shouldn’t bore him with the details. You didn’t really like talking about it much, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like he was inviting you to continue talking.

"We got separated from our father at the gas station a couple of miles away from here. He went inside the convenience store to get us snacks, and while he was in there, a cyclops had found us, tried to grab us out of his car. We jumped out and ran into the woods nearby," you explain as you look out at the dark horizon.

You remember the sound of your father yelling after you and Atticus and how it broke your heart hearing, for the first time, such despair in his voice. You knew your dad didn’t want to bring you guys to camp, but he knew it was in Atticus’s and your best interest to come here and be with other people like you guys.

When you and Atticus started developing your powers, your father had simply told you guys that you were special and to refrain from using your telekinesis anywhere else but home. He didn’t say anything more until one night, you and Atticus had gotten in a screaming match about a reason you don’t even remember. However, in your screaming match, the both of you were so angry that a green aura had formed around you both, and books, magazines, even cutlery were being flown across the room because of the sheer energy you were admitting as a unit. It was then your father had decided to take you and Atticus to the camp to control and learn about your powers before you guys destroyed the house over a dumb argument like who’s turn is it to have the TV remote.

"We were more concerned about the monster hurting our dad, so we decided on a whim to run in the forest. My brother and I have telekinesis powers, and I aimed well enough to send a rock right at the cyclops eye. We lost him a little after that, but we didn't know where we were. We made too many twists and turns; we had no idea what direction we came from. And then, this buddy appeared out of nowhere from a distance. I saw him glowing from far away and couldn’t make out what he was, but I felt that I had to follow him. So we did, and he got us to camp with no detours for any other monsters. He's been with me ever since," you say, and a low whine comes from Ambrose’s mouth as he nuzzles the side of his face on your thigh contentedly.

Percy nods, and he huffs softly, "You guys got lucky. How old were you and your brother when you got to camp?"

"12, we're twins. We actually got here a couple of weeks after you did,” you mention. You watch Percy’s mouth curve into a half-smirk.

“Wow," he says, amused, and shakes his head. “So you have a twin and a dead dog, no fair," he jokes. You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully,

"Oh please, and you have crazy water powers. You’re completely dry after swimming! I think that's pretty envy-worthy."

"Hey-,” he shrugs, taking a second as if to form a protest. “I guess you're right,” he admits and laughs. You laugh with him, opening your mouth to say something else but unfortunately, you were interrupted by a screech echoing in the distance.

Both you and Percy stand up quickly, trying to figure out which direction it came from. “The harpies,” you both mutter in unison. You bend down to grab your things, and you look at Ambrose.

"Go distract them, bud," you tell him, and Ambrose jumps up to his feet, and you watch as he runs away, barking to get their attention. Just then, you see the wings of the Harpies coming up from the trees of the forest. You turn to Percy, grabbing his hand quick,

“Incantare: Transpectus!" You exclaim confidently, closing your eyes to envision you and Percy becoming transparent on the dock. You've never tried doing this spell before, but you've gotten better at visualizing and setting intentions, so you had some hope in yourself. You open your eyes, not feeling any different, and you hoped that you just didn't make a fool of yourself in front of Percy. But when you look down at your hand hesitantly and notice it was hard to make out since you were see-through like glass, you sigh in relief. You smile to yourself, more than satisfied that you were able to pull that off.

"Woah, are we invisible?" You look over at Percy, able to see him just fine since he was under the spell with you. Percy looks down at himself, eyes widened as he processes he can’t see his body anymore. You observe him for a second, finding it cute how he looked surprised and obviously entertained at the fact that he was completely see-through. You feel yourself growing a little flustered, trying not to focus too much on the fact that you were holding hands with him.

"Something like that. C'mon, it won’t last too long," you whisper, and your grip around his hand tightens as you guys begin running to his cabin. You hear the harpies screeching in frustration as they swoop down to try and grab Ambrose, only for their claws to go right through him. While the harpies were growing more annoyed, Ambrose, on the other hand, was having way too much fun, running in circles and barking at them as if he’s teasing.

"Man, I wish I had a ghost dog," you hear Percy mutter behind you as you arrive at the steps of his cabin.

"Yeah, Ambrose is pretty great," you admit, watching him play with the harpies before shifting your gaze over to Percy. "Thanks for getting the crystal for me." As much as you wanted to stay talking to him, you knew you couldn't stay too long. You were still eager to finish studying, and Ambrose can only hold off the harpies for so long.

"It was no problem. It was on my way up anyways," he shrugs, and you smile, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You look down, the two of you still holding hands even though the spell wore off already. You awkwardly let go of his hand, shifting on your feet.

"Well, I'll see you around," you say sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, I'll see you.” His hand comes up in an awkward wave. You nod, returning the wave. Your eyes meet Percy’s green ones one more time before turning on your heels and walking down the steps of his cabin. You notice that Ambrose is now long gone into the forest, taking the harpies with him to give you time to rush to the other side where your cabin is.

As you hurry back to your cabin, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you replayed the interaction you just had with Percy, and you couldn't help but wonder when would be the next time you could talk to him.

You carefully hoist yourself up, climb back into the cabin through the window, sighing softly once you get in. You slowly close the window, your face scrunching at the creaking sound, but you successfully get it closed before turning around, only to be faced with Connor Stoll standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. You gasp loudly, almost dropping the mason jar in your hand, being startled for the second time tonight.

“Oh, look who’s back,” he says, his lips pulled in his usual mischievous smirk, his right eyebrow raised as if he's suspicious of you. You shift, giggling nervously under his graze,

"Hey, Con.” Shit. You knew he wasn’t asleep, and a part of you wasn’t surprised that he had caught you sneaking out again. You weren’t too worried since Connor wasn’t one to be strict or easily angered, neither was Travis, but you can understand if he did get a little upset with you since the cabin could also get in trouble, and he worried about you getting hurt.

"You leave so often, I'm starting to think you're seeing someone," he teases, and you furrow your eyebrows, not really sure what he was trying to get at.

"I'm not seeing anyone. You know what I do when I sneak out," you tell him, putting your hand out to show him the jar full of water. After being caught the first couple of times, you had explained to Connor why you occasionally needed to head out at night. He was understanding of your reasons, telling you to try and not sneak out as often. When he did catch you, he always kept your outings secret. It came with a price, though. You were sometimes stuck doing extra chores, especially anything that had to do with cleaning, since he hated doing anything that had to do with mopping or sweeping.

"So that wasn't you and Percy on the dock?" Your eyes widen, and you feel your face get hot again. You shake your head, stumbling over your words for a second.

"Uh… n- that was a coincidence!" You hear him snort, laughing quietly as if he didn't believe you. Even though he couldn't see your facial expression very well in this lighting, he can still tell how flustered you were at his sudden question.

"Yeah, sure," he says sarcastically, and he hums, "Anyways, what are you going to do for me so that I don't tell on you?" He asks, and your mouth drops open. Usually, he wasn't so forward, and he never threatened to tell on you. "I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

You gasp, "Connor, are you blackmailing me right now?" You narrow your eyes at him, and he shrugs,

"I guess you can say I am." You shake your head, walking over to your desk to put down your moon water before turning toward him and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"... what do you want?" You ask, expecting him to make you take up one of his chores. But from the way he was smiling at you, you can tell that there was something more he wanted, and you were beginning to worry.

"Help me turn the Ares Cabin into bunnies," he says, and you shake your head frantically,

"No way! Clarisse will kill me," you whisper. Connor smiles,

"No, she won't. She can't kill you if she's a bunny," he points out, and your face falls flat,

"They're not gonna stay bunnies forever," you say, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously at the idea of the outrage you'd get from the Ares Cabin after shifting back from being bunnies. "I don't know, Con. I don't even know if I can turn all of them into bunnies at once."

Connor waves his hand at you, dismissing your concern. "I don't care for the logistics now. We can work on that later, but you have to agree to at least help me," he says. "Or I'm telling everyone I saw you smooching Percy on the dock."

"What!? We didn't even kiss. We talked for like 5 minutes!" You whisper-yell, your reactions much too entertaining for him, and he was having a hard time holding in his laugh.

"Your decision, y/n."

You sigh, throwing your head back. You look at the ceiling for a second as you consider your two choices. And you decide that getting your head potentially put on a stick by Clarisse was better than the burning embarrassment of Percy thinking you're spreading rumors about kissing him. "Fine, whatever. I'll help you do the bunny thing," you mumble, your shoulders slouched.

Connor nods with a proud smile on his face for trapping you into helping him. "Good choice. I will be going back to sleep now. Good night… again," he announces, turning on his heels and walking over to his bed. You frown a little as you walk back to your desk to study. Plopping down onto your chair, you decide that you’ll worry about Connor’s little plan later so you can focus on your studying. After a while, Ambrose comes trotting in, joining you by the desk as usual. You smile at him, praising the other for distracting the harpies for you before he lays down, his head laying on your foot.

As you study, you find that you couldn’t help your mind drifting back to Percy once and a while. You deem that there was no way that you could have a crush on him since you guys have only spoken once. In the midst of your internal debate to decide what you felt for him, you suddenly remember the crystal that was retrieved for you. You remember how Percy presented it to you, holding it out for you with his fingertips. It was your rose quartz. What a coincidence. You smile, rolling your eyes as you tell yourself that you’re thinking too much into it. You look over, noticing the dim illuminating light of the beginning sunrise shining through the curtains. You sigh, deciding that you should probably get to sleep and take advantage of the maybe, four hours of sleep you’ll get tonight. You close your herbology book before making your way to your bed, and with a soft sigh, you retreat under the covers, and finally, you surrender to your drowsiness.

masterlist

#percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #connor stoll #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fic #slow burn #friends to lovers #connor stoll x reader #percy jackson oneshot #pjo #my writing

494 notes · View notes

moon-stars01 · 3 years

Text

First Impressions

Mingyu x Reader

Author:Deko

Summary:In which Mingyu is a regular and your positive your into him.

Gene:fluff,Swearing,Romance

Rating:General Audiences

~First Impressions~

You'd developed a crush.

One, which you'd hoped was fleeting because you only ever saw him around once a week whenever he'd come into your shop.

He was peculiar in the way he carried himself, he'd nestle himself in a corner and play with a trinket he found interesting and made himself laugh on plenty of occasions.

To others, you guessed, he might look half insane laughing to himself like that – but to you, you found it rather sweet.

Sweet, because he indulged in the company of himself. So few are lucky to have enough confidence to carry themselves freely without reserve or judgement, so while he struck you as peculiar, you also found him irresistibly charming for this fact alone.

He came up to you one day and completely shocked you out of your daydream – and you shuffled to hide your book to make it look like you were actually working.

He met your eyes, "Do you make this stuff?"

He pointed around the shop, and you tried to focus on the question but your mind was more drawn to the fact that his voice did not match his pretty face. You'd always imagined him more soft spoken.

"Y-yeah. Well, no" You exhaled slowly, calming yourself down. "Some. My dad makes most of it."

Ahh, wonderfully spoken. Beautifully enunciated.

He hummed in wonder, and you saw a faint smile trace his lips for a moment, before it disappeared.

He said nothing more and began to walk out of the shop.

You gasped, not wanting him to leave. He'd finally talked to you and that's all he'd had to say? The shop was empty so now was your chance to... say something, anything!

You leaned over the wooden counter, "My name's Y/N!" you half shouted, grasping onto the edge.

Really? Your name? That was the best you could do?

He turned around, eyes wide in wonderment, before they softened at the sight of you. "I'm Mingyu. See ya."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, walking away. He used his shoulder to push open the door and left the shop without another word.

You slumped back in your chair and took your book back out from its hiding spot, and tried to focus on the words. You were sour upon him leaving, his presence alone had always made you feel giddy, and the shop suddenly felt colder without him there.

—0–0–0–0–

The next day, Mingyu came in.

This shocked you because he never came in more than once a week; you wondered what must have been so important.

Shock was evident on your face, and when your eyes locked as he walked in the door he wore an unreadable expression.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you were stacking wooden toys and trinkets onto the shelves, and noticed that he wasn't acting the way he usually did. He seemed off.

You bit your lip and approached him quietly; he didn't look at you though, as you spoke into the air – only able to admire his side profile.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" You treaded carefully, sounding a little too meek for your liking. You didn't like the effect he had on you.

He looked to be lost in thought for a moment, before turning to look at you. "What kind of gifts do girls like?"

Your heart sank into the floor.

As your eyes trailed his face, gaze sweeping over his perfectly symmetrical features from his soft brown eyes to his pretty pink mouth you realised the insanity of your previous sentiments.

Of course he had a girlfriend, look at him for gods' sake.

You masked your sadness aptly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. It wasn't as if he'd lead you on or anything, you'd just been living in your own delusions for far too long, allowing them to manifest into actual feelings.

"The things my father makes..." You walked ahead of him around the corner and through shelves, using your index finger to indicate you wanted to be followed, "Are good for tourists, and gifts for old people."

You lead him to a little corner of the shop, one that only stocked the things that you yourself had made. It was your father's idea.

"As for me, I like to make prettier things. Things other girls might enjoy." You used your hand to gesture up and down the shelf.

Mingyu looked at you for a moment with a quirked brow, and then set his gaze to the shelf.

You watched on as he reached out to touch the eclectic weeping willow you'd made. It had taken you forever to create, hence the maybe a little outrageous price tag. You'd had many customers grumpily try to haggle the price with you, but you were fond of it, maybe you didn't really want to let it go.

"You made this?" He questioned, gaze still on it. His long fingers were delicately tracing the decorative beading on it.

"Yes." You murmured shyly, clasping your hands behind your back.

"It must've taken you a long time." He noted.

"It did." You couldn't really think of much else to say, so you continued to watch his form.

He finally leaned up, as if breaking away from his transfixed state. You'd be lying if you said you weren't flattered.

"I'll take it, then."

You blinked up at him, "Are you sure?"

He raised his eyebrow at you, small smile playing on his lips.

He picked up the tree and set off towards the direction of the counter without another word, prompting you to follow.

You rushed ahead, pushing the small wooden entryway to go behind the counter, before meeting his eyes again.

He placed the item down and you looked back up at him, searching his face for any uncertainty.

"Can I ask you a question?" You murmured, avoiding his eyes.

He put his elbows on the counter and sat his head in his palms, watching you expectantly. "Sure."

Too close, he was too close!

You stepped back a fraction, hopefully to an unnoticeable degree. "Is the person this gift is for...special?"

The prying question left your mouth with little hesitation, and he too answered without it.

"Yes."

You watched as he pulled out his wallet and started fishing out notes, but you stopped him with your hand, lowering his gently.

"Then it's on me."

He looked at you, "Huh? No, I couldn't." He ignored you and set the money on the counter anyway.

"I made this a long time ago" You whispered gently, scanning the item to let the system know it was no longer in the store, "It's collecting dust here. You've also given us more business than I care to admit." Your tone was teasing when you looked up at him.

Again, his expression was unreadable.

"Would you like me to wrap it?" You asked, fighting down a sigh.

"Yes, please." His nice voice sent your heart into mini palpitations, and turned your stomach into a fluttering mess.

Stupid, traitorous body.

"Just a moment then." You took the item and walked into the back, exhaling deeply when you were out of ear shot.

You carefully wrapped the tree in bubble wrap, before setting it onto some pink wrapping paper and folding it all together nicely. You sealed it with tape before you heard the entry way doorbell ring.

You left the item in the back and wiped your dewy hands on your pinafore. Stepping out, you looked at the older woman who'd stepped into the store.

"Welcome!" You smiled at her, not familiar with her face. It was always customary to welcome newer customers, the regulars never cared quite so much.

She smiled back and set about the store, and you turned back around to go and retrieve the wrapped gift.

You brought it back out and noticed the money was still sitting on the counter, so while his attention was diverted in his zoned out state, you sneakily placed the money in the bottom of the paper bag, and put the wrapped gift on top of it – effectively hiding it.

"Here you go." You set the paper bag in front of him, and he took the handle and let it fall to his side.

"Thank you." He gave you a quick smile before heading out, and this time instead of using his hands like a normal person, or even his shoulder like he had the day before – he used his foot to push the door open and set out.

You watched his hair fly around in the wind as he stepped outside. The door shut and the bell jingled – leaving you to watch his figure through the glass doors.

His hair was so fluffy. You sighed, putting your elbow on the counter and resting your head in your palm. You wondered what it might be like to run your hands through it.

Sadly, though – that wouldn't happen any time soon. Any girl worth spending 89 dollars on an artisanal craft tree, must be special indeed. It seemed rather frivolous.

—0–0–0–0–

The next morning passed without any drama, and you found yourself during lunchtime nose deep in a book. This week had been slow, dreadfully slow – despite Mingyu and his more than occasional visits – to bring you out of the ordinary.

Your dreamlike state was shattered with a loud ringing of the entry bell, signifying the door had been opened with a little more force than necessary.

A gasp caught in your throat at the sight of Mingyu– and while you were overjoyed at his visit (3 days in a row was a new record) you couldn't help but notice the scowl on his face.

"Y/N."

He'd never said your name before, it sounded like heaven coming from him. But maybe a little bit of slipping from the clouds and plummeting down to earth kind of heaven because his tone was heated.

You watched as he rummaged through his pant pocket, before he pulled out a familiar wad of cash.

He unceremoniously dumped the notes onto the counter in front of you, and his eyes drew you to them, even though the first thing you wanted to do was look away.

"I said no. Why did you do that?" He sounded affronted, and he ran his pretty long fingers through his soft mop of hair to emphasize his frustration with you.

You wanted to say sorry, but you weren't. And if not for a faux apology, what were you supposed to say to that? So you kept quiet, hoping it would pass.

He narrowed his eyes at you sharply, and if gazes could kill...

"So, do you just go around giving away the things you make to anyone for free?" The angry set of his jaw was as frightening as it was handsome. You knew this boy – you'd been watching him for so long. His goofy, light-hearted demeanour could not be clouded with a foul mood.

And as if you were psychic, your silence seemed to stun him. He'd come in here hoping for a reaction and when he realised you weren't going to give him one it calmed him down. You watched as his tense stature relaxed, and his frown mellowed out.

"My sister loved the gift, by the way." His tone had gone soft, "She said it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. I thought so too."

Your heart rate quickened – his sister? You had a nasty habit for jumping to conclusions. It's not as if he'd come into a craft store to buy handcrafted wooden condoms.

Your heart had a pessimistic way of thinking, you'd liked him so much and for so long that your brain turned to non-functioning mush in his presence, clearly.

His sister. The tree was for his sister.

You chewed on your lower lip, trying to concentrate on evening out your breathing and heartbeat. To no avail, naturally.

His gaze was on you so strongly you could feel it. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I'm...sorry?" Wow it's like you didn't even try to be convincing.

"No you're not." He chuckled, low and quickly – and it built up into laughter much lighter "You're not sorry at all."

You looked away, caught.

From your peripheral vision you saw him slide the notes over to you, even closer than they were before. "Put the money in the register. Now."

His tone didn't leave much room for debate, it was low and persuasive and you found yourself trembling at the thought of saying no.

"I want to watch you do it."

You detected hints of flirtation in his tone but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself, so you reached out to grab the money and just get it over and done with, but he was quicker.

He snapped the money back up and held it between his middle and forefinger, just for the purpose of keeping your gaze. "And don't try this again, I live too far away to keep coming back like this."

You tilted your head in question, he lived far away?

You held your hand out and he gave you the money, allowing you to put it in the register underneath his watchful gaze.

You shut it, and looked up. "Satisfied?"

He grinned at you, "Very..." A pause,

"Don't sell yourself short, don't ever try to give some guy free things, especially when they're so beautifully and carefully crafted."

You felt mildly affronted by his accusations. "What do you mean by some guy?" your lips fell into a thin line, the previous mood shattered. You chose to ignore the latter half of the sentences flattery.

"I don't know. Maybe if some guy you like comes in with his friends and charms the pants off of you and I don't know... you just give away your things for free."

You gave him a look of complete confusion. Was he daft?

"I like you, jerk."

Your hands came up to your mouth, as if it would do any good. Why had you said something so rash?

His eyes went wide, and if you didn't know any better you might have seen his face flush.

"What, why? You don't even know me..." He scratched the back of his head, "For how long?"

How coherent of him?

"Why? Because I can. I might not know you but, that doesn't mean I don't want to! And, uh, a while..." You huffed indignantly at the end of your mild outburst.

"No, god I mean..." He ran a hand through his hair, "I wouldn't say I like you, it's more of a crush... I don't know how to explain it, how can you like someone you don't know? You know?"

He had a fair point, in all his jumbled musings, perhaps blurting out your affections so carelessly made him think you were someone who used those words often.

"Well..." you thought, deflecting, "how can you have a crush on me then? Or whatever it is you want to call it."

"I asked first."

You almost scoffed, folding your arms. "Because I see you looking around and you're always happy. This is my father's store, and it makes me happy seeing you happy inside of it."

How many times did you just use the word happy?

He looked pleased at your admission, a sweet sly smile playing at his lips.

You sighed, "Now you."

"Alright" he shifted his balance onto his other leg, looking far taller and more imposing than he should have for someone so pleasant. "You make me curious, that's why."

Huh?

He rolled his eyes at your blank stare of confusion, "You make me curious. Whenever I come in you scramble to hide the books you're reading, to pretend like you were working." There was laughter in his voice, "It's cute..." he leaned in closer over the counter, "and it makes me so curious, I always wanted to know what you were reading."You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment, "You could've just asked."

"No..." he hummed in reply "Because I spent my time in here day dreaming about what you might be reading. It entertained me."

You huffed, "Nice to know I'm a good source of entertainment."

"And whenever you look over at me..." He ignored you and carried on, "And I notice from the corner of my eye and look back, you always look away. Why do you do that?"

All of this time he'd never let on just how attentive he was to you. Knowing this embarrassed you to no end.

You didn't answer him.

"Why do you do that?" He tried again, his voice sounded closer than before. He looked so handsome with confusion lacing his features."I don't know." You bit back shyly

"You're a shit liar, do you know that?" he bit his lip and gave you a once over, "I'll ask you one more time, why do you look at me like that?"

You played with the frills on your sleeves out of nervousness and pat down your store pinafore one too many times than was necessary, desperately needing a distraction from your ever fluttering stomach.

"Y-you know you're nothing like I thought you'd be." You muttered

He smirked and gave you a look as if to say, 'no shit.'

"Wrong answer." Was what he whispered back instead.

The two of you just stood there staring at one another, and you couldn't discern whether or not the silence was comfortable, or unbearable.

You could've sworn his eyes darted to your lips for a moment, but the spell was broken when the bell sounded and a customer came in through the door.

"Welcome!" You got out, albeit breathlessly.

You met eyes with Mingyu again, and he looked as if he was on the brink of saying something. He sucked in an annoyed breath and looked away. But that façade didn't last long because a second later his attention was back on you.

"What time do you get off?"

Your eyes darted to the clock. 5.20. You had 10 minutes left but you'd rather clock out early than have to wait through the tension of, well, whatever the hell you'd call this.

You watched as your final customer left after looking around extremely briefly.

"Now." You whispered, taking off your pinafore gently and setting it beneath the counter.

You went out back for only a moment and switched the power off, coming back out to meet Mingyu.

Your nervousness was palpable, and you patted down your jean skirt that was beneath the pinafore, hoping that your blouse was presentable enough.

It felt like time was moving very slowly as the two of you walked out of the store together, his beautiful features were darkened in shadow – illuminated only by the soft cloudy light emanating from the glass doors.

The two of you slipped out wordlessly, but not before you flipped the sign at the door around to 'Sorry! We are CLOSED.'

—0–0–0–0–

Mingyu took you to a park that was close by, and while the sun wasn't out shining, there was a real charm to the dull grey – with little hints of blue dotted throughout the sky.

The two of you sat on a bench overlooking a field of grass and trees, with flowers scattered about, growing in sparse groups.

"You know, I'm sorry for teasing you." He murmured, looking forward.

You smiled, only a little.

You often day-dreamed about Mingyu taking you out, but back then he didn't have a name to his face. He was just the smiling boy who'd come in whenever he felt like it, with no routine.

But now that you knew the kind of flirtatiousness and deadly charm of which he was capable, it got you to thinking. Just what exactly was it that you liked about him? He had every right to tease you, and to question – because in his eyes you were just a silly girl with an even sillier, baseless crush.You turned to look at his side profile, marvelling at the perfect sculpture of it. "You are?"

"Yeah. Can I tell you the truth?" There was an odd sort of smile on his lips – that met somewhere between a grin and a grimace.

You nodded – hopefully he caught it in his peripheral vision.

"At first I was annoyed with you – for telling me you liked me so carelessly. I thought maybe you'd said it to lots of people before me, I got jealous I suppose." He leaned off to the side of the bench and sat back up with a daisy in his hand, and when he started picking at the petals you supposed it was to put his energy somewhere. "But seeing the way you act when I even... look at you. The way you look at me, it's..." he sighed softly, thoughts dribbling off into nothingness. You hadn't even realised he thought so deeply about you, you felt awful for making him uncomfortable – even without realising it."What I'm trying to say is that I understand you." He finalised "I'm drawn to you, too, more than I can understand why."

You smiled softly, suddenly feeling very warm.

"But, you don't know me, Y/N." He looked at you – looking far too beautiful in all his earnest composure. "Can you live with that?"

"For now." You whispered, "But I meant what I said before, is it so wrong to want to get to know you?"

"Which..." He inhaled and reclined into the bench, legs splayed out in a boyishly charming manner "Which me did you start to like, how was I?"

You thought about the confusing question for a moment, "You smiled a lot. Made a lot of weird, goofy faces at inanimate objects my father and I made. Ridiculously charming stuff." You giggled "And you'd always buy the silly things that my dad loves and I loathe. You know, the wooden sculptures with odd anatomy. I told him there was no market for it, but you became the market." You bit your lip to keep from laughing harder.You paused, "I'll only be a little upset if that isn't the real you."He pulled his lower lip through his teeth and turned to look at you, there was something indiscernible about his gaze, "Only a little?" he whispered.

A.Lie.

"Yeah..." You trailed off

"Do you make it a habit to lie?" he scoffed, turning away from you. "I already told you, you're a bad liar."

"'Shit', I believe was your adjective of choice."

You watched him grin, if you were brave enough to call it that. "I'm serious, Y/N. If you want my truths you have to give me yours, it's the only way we can figure out..." his index finger flicked between the two of you in an exaggerated gesture "Whatever this is."

He was right. He was probably always right.

"I'd be upset, but I'm sure I could get used to every part of you."

Satisfied, he seemed to drop it. "Good, because it is a part of me, before you that is."

You quirked your brow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You make me nervous." He concluded simply.

"I make you nervous? You never let that on, at all." You murmured, truthfully confused.

Mingyu seemed very well put together. He was a person who you'd always assumed never gave two shits about the thoughts of other people. But the more time you spent with him alone, the more you realised your awful habit of projecting personalities onto people was a dangerous game to play.

The Mingyu you had feelings for was only a small part of his personality, there was more depth to him than he let on.

"I'm a better liar than you." He was looking at you fully, now.

It was silent for a while before he spoke up again, "My mom took me to this area when I was a little younger during the holidays. You didn't work at the shop at that time but I vaguely remember seeing your face. I loved the eccentric toys your father made, so I always asked my mom to bring me back."

This was news to you, you didn't remember him at all. But listening to him recollect so fondly about your store made your heart swell with pride. That's all your father had ever wanted, a homelike store full of warmth and treasures people of all ages could enjoy.

The store was especially bustling during holiday season and irrevocably dead during off season, so it was understandable you didn't recognize his face.

"I always drive down here when I get the time. I feel at home here for some reason because I have good memories of the store – it was so magical and big when I was a kid, not so much now, naturally."

"Yeah, you're huge." You cut in.

He snickered before continuing on, "Since I felt at home in your store I always got a little comfortable, entertaining myself. But then I noticed you looking at me once, and I don't know what it was about it, but, something happened to my heart that day."

You blinked a few times, trying to absorb all of this information. He was a wonderful speaker – his voice was so calming and deep you found it hard not to fall in.

"Your heart?" You questioned delicately, just trying to make sense of the connection the two of you seemed to have – which until today had gone severely unnoticed.

"Yeah. And before I knew it I was nervous, I couldn't act the way I usually did because I was afraid it would scare you off or something. I felt like I couldn't be myself around you, you were too beautiful for that." He ran a hand through his hair after the statement, and you felt blessed to have seen him do it up so close.

"That's...shallow. You were willing to change who you are, for me? Because you thought I was pretty?" You laughed lightly at the notion

He raised his eyebrow at you and leaned in close, "Shallow?"

You swallowed at the close proximity.

"You never answered my question, and I've been so truthful I think I deserve an answer..." He ran his tongue along his lower lip, following the teasing lilt in his tone. He was teasing you, and he wasn't attempting to conceal it this time.

You knew exactly what question he wanted the answer to.

'Why do you look at me like that?'

He fucking well knew the answer to it too, and you wondered if he was 50% kindness and 50% mischief – maybe 60/40.

But you were certain, even after everything he'd divulged to you – you'd take all 50% of his teasing, of his bullying and smirks and eyebrow raises and every other bloody thing that came along with Mingyu's personality – if it meant you got to see him laugh with glee from time to time.You'd gotten caught up in your thoughts while watching him, and you shook your head to shake you out of the dazed reverie.

"You were doing it just now." He fell back dramatically into the bench, leaning his head back "Christ."

"Sorry."

"No you aren't!"

You giggled, then.

"No really. I am, I'm sorry. I didn't ever want to make you uncomfortable. That's the truth. It was the last thing I wanted." You felt a little ashamed of yourself, at not ever being able to hide your feelings well.

Your inability to do so had caused the person next to you a great deal of confusion.

"Whoever said I wanted an apology from you? I love the way you look at me. But I told you before, I'm curious." He shifted close to you, impossibly so. Close enough that your thighs were touching – but his were clothed.

"If you don't tell me, I'll kiss you."

You looked at his mouth and had to fight back laughter. That was a threat? Oh boohoo, that would be awful.

Perfectly annoyed by him, you grabbed gently at the collar of his shirt and brought his mouth to yours. He let out a low, pleased noise – melting into your touch.

His lips felt like heaven on yours, they were soft and warm – and the noises of pleasure he was making was doing little to stifle the rampant thumping of your heart. He kissed back with fervour, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him further.

When it had all gotten too much, he pulled away slowly and hesitantly, before putting his head into the crook of your neck and letting out a soft sigh. "That was unfair." He whispered, leaning back to look at you. "You're avoiding giving me an answer."

"Are you done being a brat or are you going to admit that you already know the answer?" You wound your arms around his neck and played with the back of his hair, admiring the feel. It was as soft as you'd imagined.

"Is it so wrong to want to hear it from you?" He murmured, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours again quickly.

You laughed softly into the little space between you, effectively ignoring him.

"I really am sorry about liking you so early. But I think it'll be very easy to like all of you,Mingyu." You hoped you sounded sure.

"You're not sorry." He bit his lip, smiling through the gesture.

"You're right." You whispered, leaning up and placing a delicate kiss to his forehead, and lingering far longer than necessary;

"I'm not."

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #stories #kpop #mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #mingyu fic #seventeen kim mingyu

63 notes · View notes

missskzbiased · 3 years

Text

Mushy Bad Boy

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Oneshot, Drabble, Established Relationship, Corny Changbin trying not to be lol

Pairing: Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader

Word Count: ~2,8K

Chan || Minho || Changbin || Hyunjin || Han || Felix || Seungmin || Jeongin

Masterlist

Notes: So that’s my first fanfic for the Valentine’s request [That you can find here, since it’s still open for Seungmin and Jeongin. I can also try to incorporate other requests to the ones I didn’t finish writing yet]

My plans are to post one fic for each one of them [If Seungmin and Jeongin get requests] until Valentine’s day. I’m trying my best to keep the schedule, but it may not be possible, since I’m busy throughout the week. I’ll still post it anyway [hopefully before February ends lol]

Warnings: Mentions of food/cooking [Just realized it, sorry. And I’m not sure if there is anything else to be warned. If you feel the need to be warned about something here, please let me know]

Requested: Yes, by @aliceu

General Tag List: @channiewoo

[If you wish to be tagged to the other Valentine’s requests, please send me an ask <3]

/////

Changbin was acting hella strange.

“Yeah… So, you know? Maybe we should have our date at my place? Would it be okay with you?” It could be all in your head, but you were pretty sure Changbin sounded as if he was freaking the hell out on the other side of the line “Well- I mean, we can still go to the restaurant if you prefer… I’m not that sick! I can totally—“ You chortled at his uneasy tone, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shook your head in amusement.

He was totally freaking out.

“Baby” You spoke in the gentlest way possible, trying to reassure him “I’ll be there in a minute, okay? Stop freaking out for a second and listen to me” It was his time to chortle. You could almost see him nodding while licking his lips, just to bit them right after and lower his gaze to hide his amusement, pretending to be the cool kid in the room, “Do you need me to bring you any meds? Are you… Is your stomach okay?” He groaned on the other side, making you chuckle at his embarrassed self “We’re dating! You can tell me if you need to take a dum—“

“Yah! I don’t need to take a—“ He huffed, interrupting you, exasperated by the mere thought of saying the word dump “Woah… How can you say something like this to your own boyfriend?!” He nagged, and you held back your laughter, picturing the disgusted grimace he was surely displaying on his face right now “Just come over, for the Lord’s sake, woman! I don’t need any meds, I just need yo—“ He cleared his throat “I just need you to be here for our date” He completed shyly, voice waning by the second.

You let the grin spread over your face, swinging your body from side to side coyly.

“Okay, baby!” You spoke in a singsong, gathering all your strength not to point out how he was just about to say he needed you and throw out of the window all of his I’m-too-cool-and-dark-for-this-world-watch-me-wearing-black-all-day image in a second “I love you” You smiled as he muttered it back to you, picking up on his squeak as he turned off the phone.

////

As soon as you got to his house, you settled on being noisy.

“Honey, I’m home!” You shouted excitedly, clattering your spare keys as you came in “This is the first time I used those!” You chirped, eyes shining as you kept shaking it in the air; the keychain ─ a huge pig head with bunny ears that looked incredibly similar to your dear boyfriend ─ dangling along with the keys and hitting your finger, making you hiss in pain “Ouch!” You whined, pouting as your chuckling boyfriend made his way to you.

“Honey, I’m home?” He asked amusedly, though you could see the pink dusting his cheeks in an alluring way that made you want to tease him a little bit “Are we married already?” He joked, eyebrows joining in a mocking way that triggered you to intensify your pouting and look at him with big doe eyes, feigning an overly cute antic “What is it?” He asked uneasily as you pointed at him, finger hovering right over his lips.

“If you kiss it better, I can think about marrying you” You fought back a grin as his ears set aflame and he lowered his head, attempting to hide it from you just to bump his nose on your finger in the process. He let out a whimper that enticed a giggle from you, and you wished you could look at his face right now but all you could see was the top of his head “You’re too cute to this world” You cooed, wrapping him in your arms as he let his chin rest on your shoulder.

“I’m not cute” He whined, head tilting to lean on the side of yours, “I’m the coolest boyfriend on Earth” He added quietly, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly as you stroke his hair, nodding to agree with him silently “Moreover!” He snapped, straightening himself to look you in the eyes before holding your hand and bringing it closer to his face, placing a quick kiss on your finger “I’ll be the coolest husband too!” He stated proudly, though his face gave his embarrassment away.

The fluttering feeling on the pitch of your stomach built up to the point you felt your whole chest burning and any proper thoughts melted away from your brain as you opened and closed your mouth at a loss of words. That was one of the things you loved the most about him… Changbin could make your heart burst inside your chest and turn you into a mushy pudding in a matter of seconds without even trying to do so. All those bad-boy vibes he tried to give off just melted away when he was around you, and you couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy inside when you thought that this was a side that was meant only for the closest ones to him.

And you were one of those lucky bastards.

Changbin made his way to the fridge, leaning there and crossing his arms as he gave you a smug look, lips quirking up in a smirk as he pretended to be casual. You arched your brow, tilting your head to the side as to ask him what he was up to, and he answered it with a shrug, sticking his lip out and humming in faux wonder. He casually looked at the clock on the wall, fixing his eyes there for a second too long that made you follow his gaze curiously.

“It’s kinda late already” He pointed out in an all too calculated tone “Since I’m at fault on our date going down the drain, maybe I should make us something to eat” He offered carefully, and you were sure he had rehearsed it thousands of times as he stood there stiffly waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, sure” You agreed anyway, choosing not to question him about it, “We can order something from that place you have been wanting to go –“ You had your phone in your hands in a second, mindlessly looking through your messages to find the place.

“What?! No! No! No!” He blurted out ─ voice going high pitched for a second ─, waving his hand vehemently to dismiss the idea “I meant I would cook for us!” He explained, and you almost dropped your phone to the floor, snapping your eyes at him in surprise “I mean, I’ve done my groceries shopping yesterday and your favorite dish is pasta… Which isn’t that difficult to cook, right? So I thought you could watch me cooking” He sounded insecure, voice lowering by the second, making you giggle as you approached him, which just seemed to make him even more nervous, “Or we can cook together! Did we ever cook together before? Whatever you wanna do—“ You pecked his cheek, letting the grin spread over your face as you bumped his nose fondly.

“So my cool boyfriend will cook my favorite dish on Valentine’s Day?” You asked knowingly “What a coincidence” You chuckled, and he shrugged as if he didn’t know anything about what you were trying to suggest “So I guess I’ll sit down as I watch my manly boyfriend” You rested your chin on his chest, making sure to connect your eyes with his as you entangled his waist “With those big beautiful arms…” You added when he wrapped you up, giving you a tight hug and trying to hide his smug grin “…Being the most perfect boyfriend in this entire world” You concluded, smiling against his chest, nuzzling him.

“That’s right, I’ll flex my skills so you’ll fall for me even more” He stated proudly, pressing his index finger on his forehead and closing his eyes as he twisted his face in a jokingly cocky expression, letting you go and shoving you to the stool.

“I don’t think that’s possible” You chuckled, making your way to the stool and sitting there, resting your elbows on the counter and cupping your face as you watched him turning around, probably hiding his flustered self. He opened the fridge, picking up all the previously separated ingredients (and he still dared to act as if he didn’t plan anything), and organizing them carefully as if he was making a tutorial video.

You would bet he had watched thousands of YouTubers to do this.

The admiration and soft feeling dissolved quickly into an almost failed attempt to hold your laughter as your boyfriend ─ that was clearly nervous even if you could only see his back ─ crackled an egg and let its content fall to the sink. He let out a heavy sigh, hand smashing the eggshell when his first reflex was to lean on the counter in utter disappointment with himself. He shook his hand with disgust, trying to get rid of the small white pieces and the sticky translucid liquid as he glanced at you to check for your reaction.

“I’m not usually like this” He rushed to defend himself, and this time you couldn’t hold back your laughter, breaking into a fit of giggles “I mean it! I never did it while someone was watching me…” He nagged, avoiding your eyes. You pursed your lips and tried to hide the adoration that spread inside your chest as he pouted, hurting eyes focusing on the ground as he mumbled something under his breath, washing his hands.

“I didn’t even say anything” You chuckled, looking at him fondly.

“You didn’t need to, I can smell your banter from miles away!” He whined.

“Come on” You sighed, getting up from the stool “I know you’re just nervous because that’s your first time cooking for me” You reassured him, walking to the cupboard to get a bowl to help him out “Let’s do it together, okay? This way we’ll get to eat sooner and you can calm down a bit” You giggled, standing on tiptoe. You felt his eyes on your back, studying you from behind as you floundered to reach for the bowl, and he chuckled as he made his way to you.

“Do we need some help here?” He teased, raspy voice sounding right beside your left ear as his warmth sank into your body and his arm got in your vision range, reaching for the bowl.

“I think we do, yeah” You joked as he cleared his throat, standing on tiptoe just like you. He collided with you, groaning as he tried to stretch his arm the better that he could but only briefly brushing the bowl inside the cupboard “Get me a fork or something so I can reach for it” You asked ─ trapped against the counter ─ but he just ignored you, fluttering his fingers to get a chance to touch the object but failing it again.

“Jeez” He mumbled upset, lowering his hand and standing more comfortably on the floor “Why is everything going wrong today? I can pick it up, I always do it!” He whined, trying to reach for it again as you tried to sneak away from him to get something helpful to the situation.

The sudden motion threw him off balance.

It all happened too fast, and you couldn’t really point out what really was going on when you crashed onto his chest, hands instinctively going to the back of his head to prevent him from hurting himself. You lifted your head, scrunching your hurting nose and staring at him in confusion as he sighed, resting his head on your hands and pressing them against the floor, looking into your eyes in utter devastation.

“It looks like I have failed this city” He sighed, arms around you to make sure you were secure into his hold “I just wanted to be the cool perfect boyfriend you always wanted…” He stroke your back a few times before letting you go, arms dropping to his sides as he looked away from you “… But I messed everything up”

“What are you talking about? You’re the cool perfect boyfriend I always wanted” You reassured him, hands going to his face to gently guide his gaze back to yours “It doesn’t matter if you get nervous to the point of being unable to crack an egg” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks softly “Or if you’re not tall enough to pick up stuff from the cupboard…” You leaned in, pecking his lips before offering him a shy smile “Or if you’re a bad boy or a cute little bean…” He placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing soft circles with his thumb “You’re exactly what I always wanted, Binnie”

He was beaming.

At first, you thought Changbin was going to cry right there and then, but his quirking lips twisted up while fighting a grin from spreading on his face; eyes glinting as if it was holding a thousand million stars inside it, conveying the happiness he felt exploding inside his chest right now. He let the smile get to his features, licking his lips before biting them and look at you with mischievous eyes, nodding in acknowledgment and letting some kind of mocking humming hanging in the air like an alarm, making your snort. He wrapped you up again, looking into your eyes filled with amusement and bliss before bumping his nose on yours and nuzzling you for a second.

“So you’re saying you love me the most, hm?” He asked, and you giggled, nuzzling him back.

“Did I ever make you doubt it?” You said playfully, kissing him briefly “Seo Changbin… I love you the most, you silly” You rolled your eyes “Bad-boy façade or mushy pudding” You smiled when he whimpered, trying to contain his giggle.

“Well… That’s good to hear!” He admitted, lifting his torso and guiding you to get up with him, dusting off his clothes before pointing to the curtains hiding the balcony “You said your ideal type was a bad boy before we started to date, so…” He trailed off, embarrassed, “Well, I wanted to make you happy” He shrugged, blushing when you cooed.

“I just said that because you were trying to look like a bad boy!” You laughed, slapping him lightly “I wanted you to know that I was into you, dumbass” He stared blankly at you, blinking a few times before muttering an ‘Oh’ that made you chortle “Is that why you’re pretending it’s not planned?” You asked, amused by his surprised expression.

“You knew?!” He widened his eyes, hands going to his hips before he raised one of them to his face, hiding behind it “I can’t believe it… Why didn’t you tell me anything?!” He whined, “God, this is so embarrassing!” You muffled your laughter, and he pouted cutely, pretending to hit your shoulder “Well, thank God you told me this now! I was wondering how I would make you believe I ran off of light so we could have a candlelight dinner” He chuckled.

“No way!” You burst out laughing “You’re unbelievable!”

“Well! I’m sorry I wanted to give my girlfriend a romantic date!” He mumbled “You’re always saying how you love those romantic movies! Your eyes always shine when you see those dates too! And you even said to me that you’d like to be a dog to get a free meal in the streets just like the lady and the tramp!” He whined again.

“No way!” You gasped, hands going to hide your mouth agape “You’re making us a dog date!” You accused excitedly “So that’s why you’re doing pasta and meatballs” You chirped, bouncing like a kid “Were you going to give me your meatballs?! What would you do to explain why we’re eating from the same plate?” You chuckled, and he rolled his eyes.

“Well… When you put it like a dog date, it doesn’t sound as romantic as it sounded in my head” He chortled “And I’d give you all the meatballs you wanted, of course! Who are you taking me for?!” He scolded you jokingly “And we don’t need to eat from the same plate because I don’t need an excuse to kiss you, silly girl!” He smiled smugly at you, hand going to your waist to pull you closer.

You stared at him intently, noticing how he seemed uneasy under your fierce gaze.

“I think that’s sauce on you” You joked, licking his cheek out of nowhere and making him howl in disgust, playfully pushing you away as he wiped his cheek vehemently “Was that how you were going to kiss me?” You mocked, and he whined like a baby, sticking his tongue out for you.

“And here I was being all romantic!” He complained, laughing along with you as you hugged him tightly, kissing him lovingly before locking your eyes once more, a fond look over both of your faces.

“I love you so much” You sighed, and he squeezed you, placing his chin on the top of your head.

“I love you more” He muttered, whimpering in embarrassment.

224 notes · View notes