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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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The Island | KTH (Three)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?)

Notes: Hi everyone! Here’s ch3 of the island, hope you guys like it. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @getmemyfries

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“Okay here goes…” Taehyung preps himself to read the ‘Request’. “The two subjects,” He pauses, rubbing his hands dry on his sweats. “Are required to experience a first date with at least 3 romantic gestures.” He pauses again, blinks at the screen then turns to face you. “A first date? These people want us to what? Have a romantic dinner?”

“So we just have to like, have dinner together…” you begin, turning away from him to face the screen yourself, “That’s not that bad.” You admit.

“What the hell counts as a romantic gesture though?” Taehyung runs a hand through his hair as he continues to look at you. “Like, maybe I cook for you?”

“That’s not a bad idea for a romantic gesture…but that’s if you’re wanting to go through with the request…we could always check out what the penalty is…” you look at him with tired eyes and he frowns at you.

“Remember you talked about how if a request is ‘pure’ enough…” he begins, “That we could just do it. This request isn’t so bad. Let’s just do it.”

“Hm…” you look down at your feet. “But how do we split up the gestures?”

“I’ll do two and you can do one.” He offers with a strained smile, he takes a step back from you and looks all around the room, “It’ll be fine.” He assures you.

“This is so awkward.” You breathe out, then you notice more words showing up on the T.V screen.

“What’s that?” you ask, squinting your eyes. “There’s more?”

“I’ll read it…” Taehyung inches closer to the TV. “Tip:” he says, “Studies show that women are attracted to men wearing blue.” Taehyung scoffs then starts laughing.

“Well, I know what not to wear.” His eyes slide to the side to look at you and he sighs out. “Do you like blue?”

“I don’t really care.” You pinch your nose in annoyance. “We have 24 hours to do this—”

“Tonight, we can do it tonight.” He gets out in a rush, “It’s really our only opportunity for dinner, don’t you think?”

“Oh that’s true.” You huff “Fine.”

“Why are you in such a bad mood?” Taehyung eyes you, “It’s just dinner…”

“No, it’s not that…I just have no idea what to do for a romantic gesture.” You admit, feeling annoyed.

“Oh.” He starts to chuckle, “I can do all three?” he offers with a smile and you shake your head.

“No, that’s not fair.” You say. “Plus, wow…do you really have that many romantic gestures up your sleeve?”

“Something like that.�� His cocky grin tells you everything you need to know. Perhaps Taehyung is quite the player in his real life?

“Let’s just meet tonight…”

“I’ll pick you up at your bedroom door once the sun starts setting.” He says and you nod your head in agreeance.

What even makes something romantic? This will probably just be like any other dinner…and for that you’re thankful. You don’t think you can handle the pressures of a real date. But you suppose you will still put some effort. How fancy does this have to be? Should you ask Taehyung?

“Um…” you bite on your lips and Taehyung looks you over, his eyes falling to your mouth as you chew on it.

“What?” he finally asks.

“How should I dress?” you gesture towards your body and Taehyung’s mouth opens to say ‘Ah’ and he nods.

“Something really nice. Maybe a dress, if you want?” he tilts his head, “I mean, I’m not trying to tell you what to wear.”

“That would be easier for me.” You laugh. “Have someone pick my outfits for me.”

“I could look in your closet—”

“I was kidding, Taehyung.”

~~~~~~~~

You stand in your closet and look at all your options—you have a lot. This place was not messing around…they must have known dates were coming because there is a variety of dresses that are quite fancy to choose from. Your fingers drag over the material of a few dresses when your hand stops on a cute black number. You take it off the hanger and push it up against your frame and eye yourself in the mirror…this is cute, really cute. You decide to try it on when your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. The dress fits perfectly—it’s smooth over your curves and has an open back. You approve.

You have been thinking all day what your romantic gesture is going to be but come up empty handed. You have absolutely no idea…you were never the romantic type exactly. Your ex wasn’t that romantic…and neither were you so it’s okay. But you don’t have too much experience in this field and you’re starting to stress out. Taehyung asked that you stay out of the kitchen while he cooks you two dinner…he wants it to be a surprise. The biggest surprise is that Taehyung is okay with all of this, that he agreed to do the request in the first place. You were sure he was going to want to check out the penalty and avoid spending any more time with you than necessary.

For the first time since being on the island you decide on wearing some makeup. Just some light foundation, mascara, and some lip stick. The look is simple yet kind of sexy—if you do say so yourself. It’s been several hours now…you walk to your window and pull back the drapes, the sun is starting to set. Taehyung should be here at any moment and you have to admit your nerves are starting to spike. But you have to remind yourself this isn’t a real date, this is just a show for the cameras. You’re basically being forced into this. Taehyung is being forced into this…you can’t help but frown. You walk back into the bathroom and look into the mirror…did you try too hard? Is this look too much? You’re about to wipe off the lipstick when you hear light knocking on your bedroom door. Welp, here goes nothing.

You stand in front of your door with the knowledge that Taehyung is just on the other side waiting for you and you feel you stomach feel all weird. You hate this. Is this just anxiety? Then there is more knocking on the door, breaking you out of your daze. You reach for the knob and turn it and begin to slowly open the door. And then you see him. Taehyung is wearing a dark long sleeve button up shirt that is tucked into his black pants…you notice how his hair is slightly parted and not as messy as usual and you internally chuckle. He looks at you with an awkward smile before he’s bringing a small “bouquet” of flowers between your bodies.

“For you.” He says.

You tilt your head to the side with a small smile and reach for the flowers and he sighs out in relief.

“Gesture number 1, complete.” He grins and you laugh.

“Where did you even get these?”

“I picked them around the island.” He admits sheepishly, “Sorry they’re all different sizes.”

Taehyung scratches the back of his neck for a few moments before motioning towards the downstairs.

“Should we go have dinner now?”

“Sure.”

You can smell food immediately as you two make your way into the kitchen, it smells delicious and is that…garlic bread you smell? God, you would kill for some garlic bread.

“What did you make?” you ask as you begin to take a seat at the dining room table.

“Actually,” Taehyung grabs you gently by the arm, “I was thinking we could eat on the patio?”

“Oh?” you rise from the seat as he guides you by the arm, “That sounds nice.”

“Wait for me here, I’ll grab the wine and glasses.” He lets go of your arm and heads to the kitchen island. He grabs the two wine glasses and the bottle and nods towards the entry way where the back door is.

You make your way out to the back when you notice the table is set up with two plates and a lit candle.

“Is this gesture number 2?” you ask, gesturing towards the table when Taehyung scoffs.

“This is hardly a romantic gesture. How low are your standards? This is just a part of the date.” He chuckles and you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. Are your standards low? Because this is crazy to you…this feels over the top.

“Then what’s your second gesture?”

“Always so greedy for information.” He says under his breath, “You have to wait and see.” He sets the glasses down and pours a generous amount of wine into each. Then he is pulling out your chair for you to sit, “Here.” He says. You follow his lead and sit in the chair, feeling overwhelmed with the kindness. Is this how he dates? Is this how he usually is?

“Thanks…” you mumble.

“I’ll be back with dinner.”

You watch as Taehyung heads back inside and you sigh out heavily…this is all so weird. So awkward. Why is Taehyung being so fucking civil? He hasn’t complained even once? You stare out at the pool, the water looks so fresh and cool. The sky is lit up in pinks and purples and everything feels so lovely…and nothing makes you feel more nauseous.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way back outside with a bowl of…pasta? Noodles and what seems to be chicken.

“Chicken Piccata” he states, his voice low and hesitant. “I know Italian food is very popular for dates.” He admits shyly.

“You cooked this?”

“I don’t know if it even tastes good but lets try it.” He shovels some of the pasta on to your plate and then on to his.

“It smells really good.” You notice he also brought a bowl of bread. “But I really want this.” You reach for the garlic bread with grabby hands.

“Greedy.” He mutters under his breath with a half smile. “So god damn greedy.”

Taehyung takes a seat across from you and watches you with careful eyes as you cut into the chicken and take a bite.

“Well?”

“Jesus Taehyung, maybe you really should listen to your ancestors. This is delicious,” you moan into the food and he grins excitedly.

“Really? Really?” he starts digging into his own food and groans out when he takes his first bite, “Wow, it really is good.”

“You’re surprised? You didn’t test try it?”

“You were my test subject.”

“Oh thanks.” You deadpan.

Taehyung chuckles as he takes another bite of his food, he reaches for the wine and you do the same.

“Cheers.” He says and you roll your eyes.

“What exactly are we saying cheers to?”

“…Don’t be a brat.” He warns. “Let’s just get through this.”

“Why are you taking it so seriously?” you finally ask and he releases a long breath, his eyes looking all around the backyard.

“Because we need to pass it. What if we half ass it and fail, still get hit with the penalty then the half we did try for was for nothing? Better to just go for it and make sure we pass.”

“Oh…that makes sense. I was wondering why you were being so…”

“So what?” he leans his head forward.

“Decent.” You admit. Taehyung looks at you with wide eyes then he closes them slowly.

“y/n…” he opens them and stares at you with such a serious expression. “I was going to talk about this later…but I guess I can bring it up now.”

“Bring what up?”

“I really have been wanting to talk to you but just didn’t really know how…” he admits softly, “I wanted to…I wanted to apologize. I wanted to say sorry for…”

“For?” you ask with a raised brow, waiting expectantly.

“My strategy was stupid and obviously did not work.” He continues, “We have been here a little over two months, right? I don’t think they’re giving up on us.” he says awkwardly.

“But,” he looks at you seriously again, “I’m still not going to like, fall in love with you or anything but I can see us…getting along.” He says between soft breaths. “I won’t be avoiding you anymore is basically what I am saying.”

“You don’t have to constantly remind me of that, I get it. And same goes for you.”

“I’m tired of forcing myself…I just want to be normal.”

“Normal?”

“I’ve been such an ass to you…” his lips curve downwards and you feel your heart pinch in your chest.

“Yeah, you have.”

“You haven’t been the nicest all the time either though.” He reminds you and you feel yourself grow red.

“Fine, maybe not.”

“But I know that’s my fault.” He takes a sip of his wine, the drink leaving a purple tint to his lips. “I’m not usually like that…it’s just…it’s just—”

“I know.” You bring your own wine to your mouth and gulp down the glass. “We are in a tense situation, everyone reacts differently. I wasn’t the most mature either…”

“I wasn’t the most mature either,” Taehyung mocks, “Yeah, no shit.” He says and you rolls your eyes to the back of your head.

“I get it, you think I am a brat.”

“Because you are.” He deadpans. You two stare at one another before you are both breaking into a grin, laughter leaving your lips.

“I think we could get along.” Taehyung admits. “In a totally platonic way, of course.”

“Of course.” You assure him, going in for more of your pasta. “But what makes you think we can get along?”

“y/n…” he rolls his eyes, “Don’t act like you don’t think you could get along with me.” He smirks. “I know you want to get to know me more for starters.”

You blush at his statement, you twirl your fork in the noodles and take a bite.

“That’s normal.” You say. “We live together, of course I want to know you more.”

“Little bit little.” Taehyung promises. “Let’s eat.”

You two make small talk while eating your dinner and drinking your wine. You observe Taehyung as you two sit at this table, he smiles a lot more and laughs a lot more. The way he speaks…you realize he is a lot more innocent than you first imagined.

“And when I got the flowers I low key felt bad because what if they die so soon? I should have left them, shouldn’t I have?” he pouts and you laugh at his dramatics and he continues, “But I thought it would be considered romantic.” His light blush doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“We can try to keep them alive as long as possible.” You promise with a slur. Taehyung quirks a brow at you, a face full of amusement as he eyes you over.

“Tipsy already?” he asks, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “Let’s do the second gesture before you’re drunk.”

“What’s the second gesture?” you question and he stands up from his chair and extends his hand out for you to grab.

“Come with me.”

“What about our dishes?”

“I’ll come back for them later.”

You grab onto his large hand and he holds on to yours tightly as he helps you stand up, then you are quickly letting go. He leads you back inside into the living room and you stand here awkwardly as he messes with the vinyl.

“We’re going to listen to some music?” you ask and Taehyung glances your way and offers you a soft smile.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Then he’s got some slow, jazzy song playing in the background. He walks towards you and offers you his hand again.

“We’re going to dance.” He says, his voice soft and low like a hum. “Take my hand,”

“What? No way!” you shake your head and he chuckles, “I don’t like to dance!” you take a step back from him.

“You barely have to do anything, just move side to side.” He looks at you, clearly amused once again.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“Pretend they aren’t watching.”

“Even if no one else was watching I would still be embarrassed.” You set your lips into a straight line, “This is so awkward.”

“Just take my hand and follow my lead.”

You give Taehyung a look of defeat before you’re taking his hand…you grab onto it and Taehyung closes his hand around yours firmly as he guides you to the center of the living room. He hesitantly pulls you in closer, your feet clumsily moving towards him.

“You can come closer you know?” Taehyung smirks. You look up at him with doe eyes and he softens just the slightest. “Come closer.” He softly commands, pulling your body even closer to his.

His other hand travels to your bare back, his fingers sliding delicately over your skin and you close your eyes at the contact.

“By the way…Uh, never mind.” Taehyung shakes his head with an awkward smile.

“What?”

“No, nothing.”

“Just tell me, would you?”

“This dress is really nice.” He breathes out, his hand finally settling on the small of your back.

“I thought so too.” You look up at him and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Say thank you.” He pulls you in a little closer, swaying you to the lovely music.

“Fine, thank you.” You tilt your head up more to get a better look at him, “Your outfit is nice too?”

“That’s a question?” he laughs, “You are the worst on dates.”

“It’s not like this is a real date.” You whisper and he rolls his eyes.

“So you’re saying you’re usually better at this?”

“No comment.” You playfully remark, “Is dating like your specialty?”

“Not really, but I try.” He leans his head down. “Do you think I’m good at it?” “No comment.” You say and Taehyung chuckles into your neck, his breaths hitting your sensitive skin. He lifts his head back up and stares into your eyes for a few moments, his gaze lingering for far too long.

“What?” you break contact, looking to the side.

“You’re wearing makeup.”

“Should I not have?”

“No, it looks nice. Different.” He admits, “It’s the first time, right?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung’s fingers glide up your back, he feels how soft your skin is as he stares down at you with his intense gaze.

“Do you like backless clothing?” you blurt out and Taehyung’s eyes expand in surprise, he’s immediately bringing his hand back down to your waist and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Why? Why do you ask that?”

“You keep feeling my skin.” You tell him shamelessly. “Not that it isn’t nice but it’s a little weird don’t you think?” you chuckle and he starts to turn a lovely shade of pink.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I did it mindlessly.” He chokes out and you laugh.

“It’s okay.” You lean up, surprising Taehyung…he starts to panic as he feels you get closer and closer. You peck his cheek, leaving such warmth behind as you lean away from him again.

“What—what was that for?”

“My romantic gesture.” A sly smile plays at your lips, “I couldn’t think of anything else, sorry.”

Taehyung lets go of your hand and takes a step away from you, he hates the blush that creeps on his cheeks, turning him into a tomato.

“So we did all three gestures then?” he asks shyly.

“I guess that means the date can end…” you look at him with a smile. “Goodnight Tae—”

“I won’t be avoiding you anymore.” He cuts you off, “We can hang out whenever.”

“Oh?”

“I’m serious about what I said earlier, I really am sorry.”

“I believe you Taehyung.” You say softly and he can’t help the smile that adorns his face.

“It’s still early…we can play a game or something?”

“How about we start with cleaning up?” you offer, gesturing towards the back. “Our dishes are still out there.”

“Right.”

~~~~~~

You and Taehyung sit on the living room sofa, he on one end and you on the other. You’re still wearing your fancy clothes and makeup, not wanting to completely waste the look. Taehyung is playing some game while you have your book in your hands, you’re barely paying attention to your book as Taehyung yells at the screen. There’s been no sign that you two passed the request or not. Do they not consider the date over? Your mind races…what if you two failed? You admit your gesture was kind of lame…but you truly could not think of anything else. What if it doesn’t count? But man, many things Taehyung did could count as gestures…the meal he cooked, the lit up candle, pulling out your chair…

You watch Taehyung as he plays his game, he’s concentrating so hard it makes you a little soft. He’s like an excited kid…a good look on him, you admit. Is this how he normally is? The bits and pieces you’ve seen of him where he’s kind and playful. Is that the real Taehyung? But you’ve learned first dates don’t reveal how a person really is.

“Come on, let me take you out.” He keeps coming to your desk to pester you as you grin down at the work in front of you.

“I told you no though.” You keep your eyes on your computer screen. “Like, 5 times already.”

“y/n.” he whines, “I know you want to.”

He’s not wrong…you’ve definitely thought about it the last few weeks…but you know, you really know it is not the wisest thing.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.” he lightly teases, “Just one date. If you decide it’s not for you then I promise to leave you alone about it—”

“Good morning sir! I’ll have the report for you by noon.” Layla comes up to him with a smile on her face, she looks between you two and nods.

“Sounds good, thanks Layla.” He stiffens as he speaks.

You know getting involved with someone from work is probably a mistake…but your boss?

Layla nods again and walks off towards her own desk and he relaxes just a bit.

“One date, y/n.” he whispers.

“Fine, just one.” You finally give in, you can’t help the smile that graces your features.

“Great.” He breathes out, “I’ll contact you later.” He leans away from your desk and walks back to his office.

You feel the giddiness in your body rise…it’s been a while since you’ve gone on a date and he’s always been so sweet to you. Hopefully it goes well.

You sit on the sofa, anxiety starting to fill you up. Your breaths become a bit heavier as you stare down at your book and you feel your eyes gloss over. You hate this. You hate thinking about him—remembering him. It brings you down so much that it just hurts.

“Hey…” You hear Taehyung’s voice cut through your thoughts, “You okay?”

You were so lost in your own world you forgot about Taehyung and how he is sitting two feet away from you.

“Yeah,” you sigh out, “fine.”

“You sound…” he bites on his bottom lip, contemplating what to say. “Okay, if you say so. Want to play a game with me?”

“Honestly, I think I’ll get ready for bed.”

“I was thinking we can finally watch that movie…” Taehyung offers, “Or we can watch a different movie.”

“Sorry Taehyung, but I think I’ll go to bed.” You close your book and stand to your feet, the blanket falling off your body. You turn to face him and offer him an apologetic smile and begin to head upstairs. Taehyung hears your light footsteps travel up the stairs and then he’s hearing the soft click of your bedroom door closing. He sighs out heavily. Maybe this was too much for you? Are you overwhelmed?

Taehyung pauses his game, his grip tightening on the controller. Maybe he was previously too much of an asshole to you that you can’t see him any other way now. He would really hate that…he wants to not just be civil with you, but he wants to get along. You two are stuck together, might as well become something like friends.

He leans back on the sofa and groans out in subtle frustration. He doesn’t want to be frustrated…it’s not like he’s frustrated at you but more like this whole day. Did he do too much? He’s starting to feel bad…you don’t seem to use to romance. You must be overwhelmed and it’s most definitely his fault. Maybe he should talk to you? Apologize? Yes, that’s what he’s going to do.

Taehyung sits up from leaning on the couch and decides that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to go upstairs and tell you he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to freak you out, so on and so forth. He stands from the couch and makes his way upstairs until he’s knocking on your door. He knocks a few times waiting patiently but you don’t come to the door. He decides to knock again and again and again. He’s starting to wonder if you’re okay? Is it alright if he just walks in? He wants to know if you’re fine. You could be crying? You looked pretty choked up on the couch and he felt his heart drop at the sight. Last thing he wants is to make a girl cry.

So, Taehyung does what any normal human being would do—he barges in the room. There’s no sign of you in the bedroom but he does notice the bathroom door mostly closed, only left open a crack. He hears you humming one of his made up tunes and he can’t help but smile. He walks towards the bathroom door and begins to creep it open when he sees you through the crack…his pupils blow out at the sight. You’re wearing nothing but some lacey light pinky panties with a bra to match as you stare at yourself in the mirror, removing your make up. His eyes drag down the curves of your body, stopping every few moments to soak you in. He’s seen you in a bikini so this isn’t any different—so he keeps trying to tell himself. But the lace is almost see through and it has been a while since Taehyung has seen a sight like this.

He blinks at you, gulping down his spit and about to make his presence known when he realizes he looks like a peeping tom. Fuck. He doesn’t know what to do, he’s frozen here just staring at you. His eyes travel up your body until he’s staring at your face and unfortunately, very, very unfortunately, your eyes meet his in the mirror.

“Taehyung?” you whisper then your eyes turn into saucers. “What the hell!” you grab a t shirt from the counter and slip it over your body and walk towards the bathroom door. You swing it open and look at him expectantly.

“Want to tell me why the hell you’re watching me when I’m not wearing any clothes?”

Taehyung gulps again, feeling caught red handed. His blush is unimaginably rosy right now, he begins to stutter out a few words but ultimately can’t find the right ones to speak. He shamelessly skims your body again… the t shirt doing very little to hide your pink lacey panties and Taehyung feels himself grow warmer at the sight.

“I was just…” he clears his throat, calming himself down. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He states firmly while still growing redder and redder.

“You couldn’t have knocked? Or like announced your presence?”

“I tried.” He defends weakly. “You didn’t answer.”

“Oh.” You sigh out, “Sorry, I’ve just been in my head I guess.”

“I wanted to say sorry…”

“You’ve already apologized plenty of times, Taehyung.”

“No, for tonight. Was it too much?”

“No…” you walk a bit closer to him, “It was nice actually.” You admit. “I’m sorry you were forced to do something like that for me.” The guilt in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung and his lips curve downwards.

“No one forced me to do anything.”

“You wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for that request.” You bite, “So yeah you were forced.”

Taehyung glances down at your exposed thighs, his eyes lingering on your skin and you start to feel a bit insecure under his gaze.

“I should find some shorts.” You awkwardly chuckle. “hold on.” You turn around and start to walk towards the closet. Taehyung’s eyes slide down to your ass as you walk quite slowly. He watches how your panties ride up between your cheeks and his blush deepens. Fuck, he needs to be careful where his eyes end up.

You walk back out wearing yoga pants and Taehyung sighs in relief. But he also feels disappointed because—no, he will not have these types of thoughts.

“So, are you okay?” Taehyung awkwardly swings his arms back and forth as he waits for an answer.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Great. I’ll leave you alone now.” Taehyung says, he begins to walk backwards until his legs hit the bed. You walk forward until you’re standing in front of him and he swallows down the lump in his throat.

“Try to wear clothes from now on.” He gestures towards your body with a soft smirk, he’s trying his hardest to play it cool.

“Why?” you take a step forward, “Does it cause you trouble?”

“Nah” he says cooly, “But you want these cameras zooming in on your ass?”

“There’s no cameras in here, remember?”

“As far as we know.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Still, you should be careful.”

“Yes sir.” You reply and he quirks a brow in amusement. “Oh?” you take another step towards him. “Please tell me that isn’t a kink of yours.”

“And if it is?”

“Good thing I’ll never find out.” You motion your hand towards your bedroom door, signaling for him to leave.

“Right.” He smirks at you, leaving you feeling strange. “Well, goodnight y/n.” he steps closer to you, his eyes boring into yours. You breathe in and out, waiting for him to turn and leave but he continues to stare into your eyes making you feel breathless.

“What?” you finally ask, your tone soft and shy.

“Pink looks good on you.” He whispers and you freeze. He smirks down at you and turns to face the bedroom door.

Taehyung makes his way out of the room and heads back downstairs. He finds himself sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands…the memory of your ass imprinted in his mind. Suddenly, the TV turns white causing Taehyung to look up.

“PASS” written on the screen and Taehyung darkly chuckles.

“Of course.”

~~~~~~~

The switch in Taehyung’s demeanor is strange to you at first. He’s still a smart ass though and loves to annoy you. But he’s mostly kind and playful. You’re the only one who is still awkward and defensive, you hate to admit it.

“My god, woman.” Taehyung groans, “Just open the door and let me see.”

“No, I look horrible!” you yell out, “I’m wearing a hat until it grows back!”

“Just let me see.” He says with a strict voice, and you hesitantly begin to open the door and he’s facing you. You see his lips twist into a troubled smile.

“Oh my god. So it does look that bad.”

Taehyung starts busting out laughing, his laughter rumbles throughout the whole house.

“No!” he rushes to get out, “Okay, maybe a little.” He continues to laugh.

“Fuck my life.” You throw your head back and Taehyung pushes his way through the bathroom.

“I’ll fix it for you.” He offers.

“You’d probably fuck it up more.”

“Notice my hair? It looks decent right? I do it myself.” He gushes over his own abilities.

“I guess that’s true…”

“Let me do it for you.” He says more softly. “Don’t be a fucking brat.”

“Stop calling me a brat.” You pout and he pats the top of your head.

“No.” he says with a grin and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, fix it.”

Taehyung beams at you and grabs the scissors.

“This is basically a trust exercise.” Taehyung points out, “Bonding.”

“This isn’t how I want to bond. Can’t we bond like normal people?”

“Nothing about our situation is normal.” He deadpans, “Plus, this is fun.”

“For you.” You grumble.

“Yeah. Maybe. Don’t be a baby.”

“I’d rather be a baby than a brat.”

“Baby y/n.” he coos, and you swat his arm. “Hey!” he laughs out. “Be nice to your hairdresser.”

“Too bad the company can’t see us in here.” Taehyung comments.

“Why?”

“They don’t see us bonding or ‘undoubtedly falling in love’ as they would say. You know just two soulmates cutting hair”

“How can you joke so easily now?” you frown.

“Coping mechanism.” Taehyung shoots you some finger guns. “does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not really.”

“Sweet.”

“Hey Taehyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being yourself. I feel more at ease now.” You admit, you look up into his eyes and inch a little closer to him. Taehyung nods his head, taking a deep breath as he inches closer to you as well.

“You just thanked me for being…me?” he whispers.

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “You know, unlike that asshole persona you had going.”

“I don’t think it was a total persona…I think I really was being an asshole.” He admits, closing his eyes. “I’m really sorry.” He opens his eyes again and looks at you.

“We’re in this together, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What if we faked it?” you whisper so fucking quietly he almost doesn’t hear you.

“Faked it?” he whispers back.

“Fake fall in love with me…in front of the cameras.” You say in a hushed tone, stepping closer to him. “I’ll fake fall in love with you in return. We get sent home. Bam.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you then scoffs,

“You think they would really buy that? Plus no offense, something tells me you’re a horrible actress.”

“I’ll have you know I am great at pretend.” You stick your nose in the air. “What do we have to lose?”

“Our dignity.” He says with a straight face. “I don’t know, y/n…”

“Give it a chance, would ya?” you frown, “it might get the requests off our backs for a while…it might not be good enough to get sent home…but I’m trying Taehyung.”

Taehyung sighs out, he can tell you really are trying. More than he currently is…you are right. You guys need a plan, sitting around all day is getting you two nowhere.

“How do we convince them?” he finally asks, his voice low.

“You’re considering it?” you ask, surprised.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I don’t know.” You admit. “We can start with some innocent flirting. Then eventually move on to sweet gestures…then pet names…then…I don’t know,” you slide your eyes to the side.

“You do know. Continue.”

“We could try being affectionate. You know, eventually. I’m not saying we do anything crazy!” you throw your hands up. “But god, this is awkward.”

“Okay…I’m listening.” Taehyung whispers, “Let’s just start easy. I can flirt. But can you?”

“I’ll have you know I am quite good at acting.” You groan.

“Prove it to me. Right now.” He steps closer to you and you feel yourself blush at the close contact.

“What’s the point? Just wait…”

“No, I’m testing you.” He admits, “I want to know you can really do this.”

You take a deep breath, your big, doe eyes narrowing at him as you step closer, your face tilting up in his space. Your fingers crawl up his chest until they’re gripping the collar of his shirt. Taehyung doesn’t seem too bothered though, he just stares into your eyes.

“How badly do you want to test me?” you ask.

He gazes into your dark eyes, he allows the moments tension to build.

“Pretty badly.” He admits, licking his drying lips.

You lean up until your lips graze the shell of his ear and he gulps, “Come test me in there.” You nod towards your bedroom and Taehyung starts to feel the heat creep up on his cheeks. There’s no way you’re making him feel flustered. Maybe your ass, but not you.

“No?” You lean away from him, loosening your grip on his shirt. “Didn’t thinks so. Don’t test me Taehyung.” You take a few steps backward and grin at him.

“How was I?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest.

“Fine.” He mumbles.

~~~~~~

Month: 3

Today is a beautiful day like many of the days you’ve seen here, but you rarely go out and enjoy them. That should change. So yes, it’s a warm and sunny day, the crash of waves sounds so inviting. And you want to experience it.

“Wanna lay on the beach today?” you are laying across the sofa with your feet put up over the top.

“Why do that when we can,” Taehyung pauses, focusing on his game. You watch as he desperately pushes against the same few buttons. “Shit!”

You roll your eyes, “Come on! We need some vitamin D!”

Taehyung’s hand freezes, he turns to face you with a smirk playing at his lips. God, you know where this is going. He’s so predictable.

“You need some D?” There it is. “y/n…I told you we aren’t like th—” you kick his shoulder with your foot. Taehyung chuckles to himself, “Okay okay fine. We can get some sun, enjoy the scenery blah blah blah”

Feeling pleased, you stand from your spot on the couch. “Great! I’ll go get dressed, you do the same okay?”

“Kay” he replies back lazily, still working his fingers on the controller. You roll your eyes again as you head upstairs.

You make your way to the kitchen when you spot Taehyung standing by the back door. He’s wearing a pair of dark blue swim trunks and a towel draped over his right arm. He’s already so tan, and his body is so…Fuck, it’s annoying how hot he is. Being friends—can you say that? Friends? Well, being friends with him is easy, but the easiest thing to do when it comes to Taehyung is looking at him. Def easy on the eyes. He’s swaying back and forth out of boredom you assume, whistling some made up tune. He’s really getting into it before you interrupt him with the clearing of your throat.

You stand here awkwardly, dressed in a simple black bikini. You have your towel held over your stomach. You notice Taehyung’s eyes widen just the slightest once he spots you. He has one of the most intimidating gazes you’ve ever seen so him staring at you makes you feel even more self-conscious than you already are. He shamelessly eyes you over. God damn it, why does he have to be so obvious? You know it’s to show the cameras he has a growing interest in you. But still, it makes you feel flustered.

“W-Well, let’s go.” you whisper. Why the fuck did you have to sound so breathless, oh my god you are so pathetic.

He smiles and nods his head towards the door, “Yeah, let’s go!”

The last month you and Taehyung have spent every day together…from gaming, to watching shows and movies to watching him paint…god, you even work out together. You two have no doubt crossed over to the friendship realm but things are still a bit awkward every now and then. Like, your god damn hormones wont chill out sometimes. It’s not like you view Taehyung that way but you do have eyes.

Wow, when you say the weather is something else. The sky is a dreamy shade of blue with a few marshmallow clouds painted on. The breeze that escapes the sea rushes through you, reminding you that you are alive. The sand beneath you is warm, the water that greets you is cool. It’s as perfect as perfect gets.

Taehyung and you lay out your towels over the grainy sandy, feeling satisfied with how soft the ground feels beneath you. You two lay out for about an hour in comfortable silence, just enjoying the weather and you know, one another’s company. Or whatever.

“Totally worth coming out, right?” You are rested on your tummy, your arms crossed underneath your head.

“It feels amaaaazing.” Taehyung mirrors your position, his head facing yours.

You decide to finally do it. You are going to ask the question. Just do it y/n. Say it now bitch…’Where are you from?’ it’s that easy, come on.

“Do you live by a beach?” Okay. Close enough.

“There’s some nearby.” Taehyung replies nonchalantly. Oh, you guess it wasn’t a big deal after all.

“I see…” You squint and raise your brows urging him to tell you more. He doesn’t.

“What about you?”

“I don’t live anywhere near a beach…it’s a far drive at least.”

A few moments of silence pass between you two. You watch as Taehyung chews on the inside of his mouth watching you. Then you close your eyes, feeling the breeze.

“Korea”

“Huh?”

“That’s where I’m from.” Taehyung says carefully.

“Cool,” I open my eyes. Then you open them a little wider.

“Well, I kind of figured…” you admit, “Your name.”

“Yeah. What about you? Where are you from?”

“(Where you’re from)”

“Nice…I wonder how they found us and matched us…”

“Yeah…” you open your eyes and take a look at him, “What do you do in Korea?”

“I was going to school.” Taehyung blinks slowly at you.

“Was?…What did you go to school for?” You ask, your curiosity obvious.

Taehyung tenses a bit before letting out a long sigh.

“Haaaa, business.”

Taehyung? In business? That seems hard to believe. Aren’t the business type more stiff and uptight? Or do you watch too many dramas?

“You don’t really strike me as the business type,” you finally say before he’s cutting you off.

“That’s because I’m not. I…”

“What?”

Taehyung looks at you cautiously then rolls his eyes. “Ah, fuck it, I have no shame. I dropped out.” He states matter of fact.

“You dropped—”

“Yup, I wanted to prioritize myself and my happiness, you know?” His eyes find yours. “My dad wanted me to go for business and eventually take over his company,” Taehyung breathes out, defeated.

“Tae…” you reach over to squeeze his forearm. Wait, is that weird? Your hand lingers on his skin. “So then, what do you do?” you rush to bring your hand back to your own body.

Taehyung’s face lights up just a bit at your question. He looks happier, his cheeks turning a nice shade of pink.

“I quit school to pursue making music.” He admits softly. Ah, that’s why. His answer warms your insides. You love seeing him so passionate about his music, he has every right to be. He spends a lot of time in his little music studio, he hasn’t shown you any of his songs yet but you know they mean a lot to him.

“I have a few friends where I live that are in the scene and they helped me a lot…I’ve sold some songs actually,” his smile begins growing as he talks. He speaks fondly over his friends and his music but then his face falls.

“I know what you’re thinking though,” his dark eyes look into yours, “That like, how could I make a living this way…its unstable...and—”

You push your head back in disbelief. “Taehyung, that’s not at all what I’m thinking?” you pinch your brows together, “I know you’ve only known me for a little while but do I really seem like that type of person who would think that?” you laugh bitterly, “I wish you would show me a song but I’ll just have to trust you that it’s good.” Taehyung can’t help but smile at that.

“How can I trust you? I just met you?” Taehyung mocks you from the time you first met and you turn pink.

“Well, I know you a little better now…” you continue to blush.

Taehyung looks at you for a moment, his smile growing wider and wider.

“Just a little?” He finally asks, his tone softer than the clouds in the sky. You only nod, a smile shining his way.

“What about you?” he asks excited. “What do you do?” He’s scooting closer to you, thrilled like an adorable child.

The smile you are wearing begins to fade, never leaving a trace of joy.

“Umm.” you flip to your back, fingers playing at your tummy.

Taehyung senses your shift in mood and turns to lay on his back as well, “Oh…we don’t have to talk about it, I guess.” He offers.

“No, no. You opened up to me so I—"

“So you don’t have to do anything.” He states firmly.

“And if I want to?”

“Then I am all ears.” He smiles cheekily.

You reach over for your bottle of water, taking a few generous sips. Opening up is a bit hard for you, you mean damn, you can’t do it all! Sue you, you got issues. It’s not that you don’t want to open up to Taehyung—you do, you really do. You want to know the person you are living with, and vise versa. But it’s more like…you are embarrassed.

“I live with my parents.” you finally admit.

“Wait…is that what you’re ashamed of?” Taehyung asks with a puzzled look on his face.

“No, not exactly. It’s the reason why and how.

“So, then tell me why and how—if you want, of course.”

You look up at the clouds in the sky, they truly are the perfect shaped clouds, the type a child draws on a piece of paper. You squint at the sun, letting its warmth wash over you. Your eyes begin to gloss over…just a little bit. You’re not that big of a baby. Or maybe you are.

You move to lay on your side, staring directly at Taehyung. Still squinting, as if he is the sun trying to blind you.

“At my old job,” you begin, your voice small. “I got involved with someone. My last boyfriend.” You pause, recalling the memories. “Ugh, I am going to seem so pathetic.” you laugh, ashamed of yourself.

“Only pathetic thing about you is your Mario Kart places.” He teases. “But other than that you’re not pathetic, whatever it is.” He assures you. He turns to lay on his side as well, one hand holding up his head.

“Ha-ha. But no, I really am…or was. He was my boss. He started pursuing me out of nowhere and I knew, I promise I knew that it was unprofessional. But I guess somehow get won me over.” Your eyes dart all around the beach. “He got me.”

Taehyung is listening to you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“Well, I fell in love. Like an idiot. And I wanted to go public with our relationship, so I told a few coworkers. Like an idiot.”

“And then?”

“And then…he got so angry at me. Told everyone I was delusional. Called me a liar, told everyone that I came on to him. And—”

“What a fucking dick.” Taehyung looks at you incredulously, “You’re telling me, he came on to you then totally twisted it and betrayed you?”

“He…he filed an official complaint against me. Got me fired.” you try your hardest to blink back tears that threaten to bubble over and fall.

Taehyung quickly sits up, sitting with his legs crossed. “I’m sorry he—he got you… he got you fired?” Taehyung looks peeved to say the least.

“Ah,” you sniffle, using the back of your hand to clear away any stray tears that may or may not have fallen. “It’s in the past now. I had to move back home and basically start fresh, you know?”

Taehyung’s face is stoic. His lips set in a firm line and his brows set in an angry V.

“How long ago?” he finally speaks after a long moment of just staring at you.

“Just a few months.” To some that may seem like a long time, but the wound is still very fresh.

“Do you…” Taehyung bites at his bottom lip, “Do you still love him? I mean, did you love him?”

Your mouth falls open, then closes, then opens again.

“So you do?” he looks disappointed.

“No! Of course not! I mean, I did. I think I did.” You sit up too, crossing your legs out in front of you. “Maybe I didn’t.” you say quietly. “I think I don’t know what love is. But it hurt like I was in love.” Well shit, this just turned a whole lot deeper than you planned on.

Taehyung just nods in agreement not knowing what to say, you guess, you don’t blame him. Taehyung continues to just look at you, like he feels something for you. And you know what that something is—pity.

“It’s not pity, you know.” Shit, did you say that thought out loud?

“What?” you respond.

“It’s just…I wish that didn’t happen to you. This world is full of assholes y/n, no one’s safe from them. Especially not good people like you.”

“Thanks Taehyung…”

“And as far as not knowing what love is…I think you’ll know when you know. That’s what they say right?” he chuckles darkly. “You’ll have some awesome, epic love story I bet.” He finally smiles. “Because you deserve it.”

“How do you know, you barely know me?” you tease.

“I’ve been stuck with the same one person every day for like 3 months, I know you enough to know if you’re a good person. And you are.”

Your heart soars at his observation of you.

“You’re kind of a baby sometimes and you are the world’s biggest brat but still, I approve.” Taehyung leans forward with his head in his hands. “y/n’s a good person.”

Your breathing picks up a little at his words, they rush through your veins. Each and every word becomes one with your body and you ache for more. You smile for him, but it’s an awkward one and you hope to God he doesn’t notice.

“Coolio.” Why the fuck did you say ‘Coolio’? What is wrong with you for Christs sake. “Uh, anyway…” you rise to your feet, gathering your towel and bottled water. “That’s enough Vitamin D for one day!

Taehyung is still seated in his spot, just staring up at you with his gaze that drives you nuts.

“Taehyung?”

“Huh? Yeah?” He snaps out of his weird daze.

“Wanna head home?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at you, “We’re calling it ‘home’ now?” he raises a single brow.

“Don’t be annoying.” You extend your hand for him to take, which he does. He’s standing to his feet, he has a few inches over you. You decide they’re a little intimidating after all.

~~~~~~

“What the hell did we do to deserve this?” Taehyung screams out, his loud voice booming throughout the house.

“Didn’t we just have a request not that long ago?” you question with a frown.

“It’s because you suck at flirting.” He whispers in your ear. “They aren’t buying it.”

“Maybe it’s you who sucks.” You whisper back.

“Oh baby, it’s not me. I’m not the problem.”

“Whatever, what does it say?”

“Must snuggle on the couch while holding hands while watching a romantic movie.” He scoffs, “What a childish request.” He says.

“We should be thankful it’s as childish as this.” You point out.

“What? Did you think it was going to say ‘The two subjects gotta fuck on the couch.’ Hm?” Taehyung laughs bitterly, and you roll your eyes.

“What’s the penalty?” you ask, curious.

“Does it matter? We got this.” He runs a hand through his messy hair.

You look at Taehyung, worry written all over your face.

“Wait what does the text say at the bottom of the screen?” you point towards the Tv where small letters grace the bright screen.

“Fact:” Taehyung begins reading, “Oxytocin is sometimes called the ‘love hormone’—you often have more of it in your blood if you cuddle with your partner a lot.” He gulps, “They really want to move this along, huh?”

“They said we have 24 hours to complete a ‘Request’ right? Should we do it—”

“—Tonight. Let’s just do it later tonight. I’ll leave choosing the movie to you.”

~~~~~~~

There was a storm earlier today, but it has relaxed a bit. Soft rain glides down the windows, every now and then flashes of lightning paints bright bolts against the black canvas sky. It’s calm enough to give you a sense of peace…despite your current position. You’re not one to get nervous…at least you don’t think you are. Shit, do you even know yourself? Anyway, back to your nerves. You are currently sitting shoulder to shoulder with Taehyung on the sofa, you are facing the TV with your fingers interlocked resting on top of his thighs. His thick, meaty thighs. Neither of you say a word while the movie plays—the Titanic. An honestly horrible choice. Your choice. See, this is why you don’t like to make decisions, because when you do they usually suck.

“Do you think this counts as snuggling? We are just sitting shoulder to shoulder…” you speak up, hating how your voice comes out a tad bit shaky.

“I told you this wouldn’t count as snuggling.” He huffs out, “You need to get closer to me, touch me more.”

“All the sudden I don’t remember how to cuddle with another person.” You say quickly and Taehyung looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“When’s the last time you cuddled with someone?”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s any of your business.” You say with a sharp tone. “Okay, would if I like, lay my head on your shoulder?”

“You’re so awkward. Here,” Taehyung detangles his fingers from yours and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, your legs almost overlapping his. In fact, he takes one of your legs and drapes it over his thigh, then he’s bringing his arm back to his front and grabbing your hand again. He places your hands on top of your thigh, and interlocks his fingers with yours once again.

“Now we look closer.” He says nonchalantly. “And yeah, put your head on my shoulder…get comfortable. Might as well, because you chose the longest fucking movie.”

“Sorry.” You say, you look up at him and eye him carefully. He’s wearing a plain t shirt and some dark sweat pants…his hair is still kind of wet from his shower and the closer you lean into him the more you can smell him. He smells so good. Like, his soap and something else, something deep and natural. It’s filling your senses, causing you to feel slightly lightheaded.

You catch Taehyung looking at you from the corner of his eye and you quickly jerk your head back towards the direction of the TV. Shit. When will this movie end?

“I said you can lay on me…” Taehyung whispers. “We want to make sure we pass this ‘Request.’”

“Right…” you lay your head down on his shoulder, sinking a little lower into the sofa as you get comfortable. Snuggling and holding hands is hardly an issue…you’re an adult. But being watched in this situation feels odd as hell.

“What’s his face is such a dick.” Taehyung lazily comments, pulling you out of your thoughts. He seems somewhat invested in the movie, unlike yourself. God, it’s just you right? You’re the only one feeling nervous. You’re pathetic. It’s like he doesn’t even feel your hand in his, as he is so easily distracted by the damn characters in the movie.

Taehyung then begins to you are assuming, mindlessly, stroke his thumb over yours, still commenting on how Rose should kick Cal’s ass. You go rigid in his grasp but Taehyung doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, this dude just continues to play with your fingers like it’s the most natural thing to do! But then you realize maybe he’s doing it for the cameras? Yes, your nerves are fucking spiking. Your heart is literally on the brink of exploding out of your chest. Yet, you remain calm. And things proceed smoothly. But then the dreaded, yes dreaded, car sex scene comes rolling on screen and you want to die. It’s not even a particularly sexy scene but still, it’s enough to fill the room with tension. But maybe you are imagining it.

“This is so awkward.” Taehyung quietly cries, “I hate this.”

Are you imagining the sweat that’s pooling in Taehyung’s hand, or maybe it’s your own palm that’s suddenly drenched. You can admit, it’s…been a while since, you know. Rose and Jack begin to kiss passionately and you groan, you want this to end. Taehyung stares at the screen, licking his dry lips as he watches the movie.

“Tell me when it’s over.” You bury your face in Taehyung’s shoulder and he laughs.

“What are you 5? Can’t handle a little movie sex?” he chuckles, “Are you not a fan of car sex or what?” he asks and you lift your head up in shock. He did not just ask that.

“What?” he feigns innocence, “You’re the one always trying to get to know each other.” He points out with a sly grin.

“I don’t ask you about your sex life! Just stuff like what you like to do for fun!”

“What if that answer is ‘sex’?” he smirks down at you and you feel yourself grow warm.

“Oh my god, Taehyung.” You hit his leg, “Three months with you and you’re finally starting to show your true colors. Typical man.” You scoff and Taehyung bursts out into his deep laughter.

“Typical man? You mean typical human being? Women like sex just as much. I mean, take Rose here for example. She really seems to be enjoying herself.”

“When will this movie end?” you whine, “I’m tired of holding your sweaty hand.”

Taehyung blushes, feeling a little embarrassed by your statement.

“I thought it was your hand that’s sweaty…” he admits, “Sorry, if it’s me.”

“This position isn’t very comfortable.” You say, struggling to find a nice spot. “Maybe we can try something else?”

“Like what? There’s not much we can do sitting down.”

“Maybe we can lay?” you suggest shyly. “But how do we lay comfortably while holding hands.” you realize. “Ugh.”

“Here.” Taehyung detangles your fingers and moves your leg off of him, “Lay on my lap, like lay your head down. And then this arm can hang over your waist while this hand holds your hand.”

You listen to what he says, following his instructions. You lift your legs up on the couch and lay you head down in his lap…careful of where you lay it. You get comfortable and nod your head, waiting for him to interlock his fingers with yours once again.

“Umm, my other hand will be at your waist, is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Taehyung hesitantly drapes his arm over your waist, his fingers brushing against your skin where your shirt his ridden up. You tense when you feel his fingers accidently touch your bare skin.

“Sorry.” Taehyung gulps. You use your other arm to bring the shirt back down, his eyes following your movements.

“I wish this wasn’t so awkward.” You admit.

You hear Taehyung release a long breath.

“Awkward because it’s with me or because we’re being watched?” he asks quietly.

“Can I say both?” you breathe out.

“Yeah…” Taehyung gives your hand a light squeeze.

Finally, the movie starts coming to an end. You sigh out in relief, you can finally move on with your lame life. The screen goes white again and after a moment the word ‘PASS’ is shown across. You both relax at the sight.

You continue to sit here, his hand loosening in your grip. You get the hint and let go of his hand altogether, trying not to get all awkward. But fuck, you are awkward as hell. Jesus Christ, help you. Taehyung just stares down at you and then suddenly breaks into a grin,

“We did it!” He reaches for your hand, holds it up and high fives himself with it. You look up into his crescent eyes and shyly smile at him.

“Yeah…” You breathe out, you both stand up.

“Don’t act like you didn’t love being snuggled up with me.” He winks and you scoff.

“You wish.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits, he reaches down and grabs a hold of your hand again. “You can hold my hand whenever you want.” He says and you go red.

“Chill.” You awkwardly chuckle.

Taehyung laughs too, but he doesn’t let go of you.

“Can I hug you y/n?” he suddenly blurts out. “You know, for the sake of human contact?” he saves.

“W-What? Why?”

“I just told you why.” He says with his lips in a firm line. “Please.”

“Fine, get it over with.”

Taehyung grins down at you with an evil glint in his eye as his hands travel to your back. He pulls you in to his chest, your body awkwardly stumbling forward.

“Relax.” Taehyung whispers.

His arms wrap around your waist and you finally return the hug. He somehow pulls you in even closer, your boobs smooshing up against his chest. He groans when he feels your soft breasts against his hard chest and you wish you didn’t hear it.

“I said relax.” He commands in his deep voice.

You release a shaky breath and try to relax in his arms but you’re still tense.

“I’m trying.” You whisper and he chuckles.

He pulls back from you, just until his face is only inches from yours and he gazes into your eyes, his stare dark and intense that you visibly shudder and he chuckles.

“I can think of a few ways to relax you.” He licks his lips with a smirk.

“H-How?” you ask breathlessly.

“Mm,” he looks up and then his eyes are meeting your again. “What comes to mind first?” his whisper hits your parted lips. “Anything you need from me?”

You feel you heart start racing, his words going straight to places you would rather not say.

“I know what you need, baby.” He groans out. He leans in closer until you can feel his breath hit your skin, “A fucking….......drink.” He grins, leaning away from you.

You choke on your spit, you begin awkwardly coughing and he laughs at you. He lets go of your body and starts walking towards the kitchen.

Holy hell, you think. Can you survive Taehyung’s flirting? Your ass thought he was saying you needed a fucking! He is the ultimate tease, you’re gathering that much.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “I could use a fucking drink.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #the island chapter 3

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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years

Note

Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round!

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air.

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her.

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable.

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.”

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner.

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it?

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home.

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family.

And god. Levi.

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things.

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child.

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought.

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating.

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom.

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her.

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything.

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out.

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open.

“Hange?”

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip.

“How was it?”

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse.

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face.

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows.

“Oi, what’d they say?”

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received.

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully.

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.”

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside.

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something.

After a moment, he spoke.

“That’s all?”

Huh? “Huh?!”

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets.

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.”

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?”

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation.

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.”

“That doesn’t terrify you?”

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?”

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?”

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?”

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting.

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.”

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly.

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?”

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer.

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?”

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.”

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?”

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown.

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap.

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?”

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw.

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again.

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.”

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.”

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm.

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs.

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.”

Levi quirked a brow at her.

“I’ve told you that before.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have. At your sisters wedding.”

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own.

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly.

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say.

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?”

“The hell else could I have meant?”

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him.

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!”

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly.

This time, he didn’t fight his smile.

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her.

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another.

“What are you doing?”

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.”

“Checking what?”

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching.

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.”

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.”

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make.

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.”

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp.

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough.

#levihan #ask #my writing #this was fun!! thank you :D #hoping I can get around to the other prompts soon too!!

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bokugaos · 3 years

Text

piece by piece.

pairing: kuroo x reader

length: 3.1k

tags — sex work/prostitution, semi-public sex, oral sex, alley blow jobs, rough sex, creampie, violence, abuse/assault, jealousy, possessiveness, angst.

summary: The first time Kuroo fucks you is your first ever. The second time he fucks you is also the last time.

The first time is in a dirty alley behind the bar, Kuroo’s pants around his ankles and you are fumbling awkwardly down to your knees.

He’s drunk and angry, too pissed off at the world to care who’s sucking him off in the dingy shadows beside the garbage bins. It’s not a bad blowjob by far—certainly not the worst he’s ever had—mouth warm and tight as he grips your hair and shoves his thick cock down your throat. You gag a little until your pretty eyes start to water, though you don’t try to pull away; you just let Kuroo fuck your mouth until he comes with a grunt, and swallows every drop before wiping your lips absently with a delicate hand.

Kuroo doesn’t look up as he tucks himself back into his jeans, though he can hear you get off your knees and lean against the wall with a sigh. The orgasm has taken the edge off his simmering rage, but he’s still drunk as fuck and anxious to get home and crawl into his lumpy bed. He digs into his jeans for twenty bucks and hands it to you without a word, and is surprised when you stuff it into your pocket and then grabs his arm before he can walk away.

“Do you…want me to do that for you again some time?” you ask, and look up at him with wide, hopeful eyes like he is the fucking Santa Claus. “I can meet you here? Or at your place?”

The words are on the tip of his tongue as he shrugs your hand off with a sigh; that he’s not picky about who sucks his cock and pretty much any mouth will do. Instead, he looks at your earnest face and the slightly desperate expression you’re trying to hide and finds himself saying the last fucking thing he ever expected.

“Yeah, here. Same time tomorrow.”

—

He doesn’t even learn your name until the fifth time you suck him off, still panting slightly after taking the load down your throat with a pleased smile.

“My name’s y/n,” you say, staring up at him through those lashes like you’re expecting a fucking pat on the head. He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond so he says nothing, shoving the money at you with a grunt before walking away.

He doesn’t need to know your name or what you do when he’s not around. And he does not spend any time wondering where you stay or why you’re out on the streets in the first place.

It’s none of his fucking business.

—

The first time Kuroo fucks you is also your first time ever, though he has no clue he’s dealing with a virgin until the deed is done.

You’re in his bed, and on your hands and knees, face pressed into the mattress and your hands clenched so tightly on the sheets. If he had bothered to, he might have guessed at the lack of experience; would have known from the wild look in your eyes and the nervous gnawing of those plush lips as you strip hastily and crawl onto the bed.

Instead, he’s too distracted by the show of your skin and his own painful erection to do much more than a perfunctory prep before he’s pushing in. you keen, high and wounded and clench down, and it takes every bit of his willpower not to just shove his cock all the way in and start thrusting his hips. As it is, he barely gives you a few moments to get used to being filled, before he starts hammering that pretty hole like his life fucking depends on it.

You groan, back arching against every thrust, sounding pinched and breathless every time he sinks in and bottoms out with a forceful grunt. You feel damn good around his swollen prick, and he finds that he can’t get enough of the way your skin bruises under his rough and calloused fingertips. It drives him wild when you grit your teeth and try so hard not to whine, which only tips Kuroo to haul his hips back and fuck you even harder.

He’s so pent-up that it doesn’t take long before he’s on the edge, and then he’s dragging you up onto your knees and spurting hard, biting down on a bare neck as he comes and comes inside that tight flesh. When he finishes he pulls out slowly, almost gently, though it still makes you cry out like you’re being punched in the gut.

“You okay?” he asks, as you just lay there on the bed, head cradled in your arms as you stare blankly at the far wall. “Did you come?”

“No,” you say, so quietly he can barely hear you. “I didn’t think I would the first time. Maybe once I’m used to it, and it doesn’t hurt.”

Kuroo stiffens, and slowly climbs off the bed. “What the fuck? What do you mean first time?”

You turn to look up at him and shrug, though your eyes are red and a little wet. “Everyone has a first time, right? This was mine.”

He pushes the bills into your hand hesitantly and leaves you on the bed.

He doesn’t see you again for a month.

—

Kuroo finds you there the week after, in the alley behind the same bar, in your usual spot at the usual time. But it’s obvious that you’re not waiting for him tonight, because you’re on your knees again in the shadows, sucking some other man’s dick like you were born for it.

His first impulse is to turn around and leave, to get away from the vivid image of your lips wrapped around someone else’s dick, licking and swallowing like you’re eating a goddamn ice cream. It’s followed by a second impulse to grab the guy and break his fucking nose, the rage welling up fast and violent when you start choking on the cock that’s being unceremoniously rammed down your throat.

Instead Kuroo just stands there and watches, frozen as the man in the cheap grey suit shoots his load inside your mouth with a satisfied grunt. You barely have time to swallow before you’re being hauled onto your feet and kissed within an inch of your life, roughly and messily like the guy is trying to inhale you. Kuroo is practically seeing red with the way he’s manhandling you like so much meat, grabbing and sucking and bruising you like his measly twenty bucks gives him the right to touch every inch of your body.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” the guy yells, when he finally notices Kuroo looming just a few feet away. “You her pimp? Or her next client?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t mind him, he’s nobody.” You interrupt, and Kuroo can’t disagree, even if the words stick in his craw like so much bile.

The tone of your words manages to surprise Kuroo, if not the invitation; he knows full well that you can’t possibly live off of the measly few dollars you make off of Kuroo alone. No, it’s the way you sound when he makes the offer—all fake happiness and a sultry smile, knowing exactly which strings to pull to get a man’s groin to pay attention.

There’s none of the vulnerability and shy air that you usually carry when you’re dealing with Kuroo, and it makes him feel nauseous, like he doesn’t know which version of you is the real one.

He watches as you follow the cheap suit guy to his small green car parked just a few feet away, ignoring Kuroo as you climb into the passenger seat. He continues to watch as the man grabs you by the back of your neck and crushes his lips to yours, like he wants to take you right there, spread your legs wide and fuck you on the fake leather seats. He watches until the car tears out of its spot and disappears down the road, leaving him standing in the alley alone, his mind filled with images of you on your knees.

Kuroo doesn’t sleep at all that night.

—

Four days later you show up at his apartment unannounced, sporting a split lip and red marks over your arms, and finger shaped bruises around his neck.

Kuroo lets you in without a word.

You flop tiredly onto the couch, pulling your legs to your chest with a sigh as he heads into the kitchen to fix you some food. When he returns, you take the plate and cup of coffee with a grateful nod and a quirk of your cracked and not quite bleeding lips.

“Really? Coffee? Do I look like I need coffee?”

Kuroo snorts. “Just do me a favor and tell me who that guy is.”

“It’s fine, I don’t really know him anyway,” you shrug, and start to wolf down the meal like it’s the first food you’ve had in days. Which is both a relief and a sting to his heart, because you don’t know that much about him as well, and neither does he.

So he doesn’t ask for any further details, and you don’t offer, though he does ask you to stay the night and sleep on the couch. He tries not to think too much about the relief that flashes briefly across your face, or what he wants to do to the guy who put his hands on you and made you look this way.

You are not on the couch when Kuroo gets up the next morning, and he tells himself that it’s just as well.

—

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”

He doesn’t know why he asks the question; has received no indication from you that any inquiry into your affairs is either wanted or appreciated. But since you showed up at his place last week ago, bruised and obviously in distress, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, and when—not if—it might happen again.

You arch an eyebrow at him and frown. “Why do you think I’m in trouble?”

Kuroo shrugs. “You’re not at your usual spot anymore, behind that bar. I thought…maybe you’re avoiding the guy that hit you.”

The smile that blooms across your face is wholly unexpected, those eyes bright with amusement and something that looks a little too much like softness.

“Yes, but it’s fine. I moved to a different spot and I don’t think he’s going to come looking for me anyway. Not after what I did to him.”

You are grinning now, practically begging Kuroo with the barely contained glee on your face to ask for details. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you do?”

You shrug, swallowing a mouthful of your food before you answer, “I waited until he fell asleep and took nude photos of him in his bed. Then I texted them to as many people as I could find on his contacts.”

“You did what—?” he starts, and then, “I’m quite pleasantly surprised. He’s such a good guy.”

“Right?” You say with a laugh, and then your expression changes, smoothing out into a mask of carefreeness that he doesn’t quite buy. “I left after that. But not before cleaning his wallet.”

—

“You can stay here, if you want,” Kuroo says to you the next morning, his arms around your waist as you lay together in his bed. “Just…I don’t know where you live but if you need a place to go you can crash here.”

You turn in his arms until you’re facing him, your face graced with a shy smile and asks, “Can I suck your cock in exchange for rent?”

“No! It’s not…I don’t mean you have to give me any…fuck,” Kuroo swears, as you tilt your head to the side in realization. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

“Yeah,” You agree, “same goes for you.”

—

It takes Kuroo almost an entire week before he realizes that you have taken him up on his offer to stay, your comings and goings unpredictable and your actions often completely unexpected. There are days when you don’t leave the apartment at all; where you spend hours cleaning the living room and wiping furniture, or doing all his laundry. Other times you will disappear for an entire day and night, and return stinking of alcohol and covered in other people’s seed and sweat. Those nights, he watches as you limp into the bathroom and quietly locks the door, and spends hours in the shower, long after the water turns icy cold.

He never asks, but he never says no either, when you climb on him on the couch and unbuckles his pants with quick and steady hands. It’s not just lust that makes it so good when you lick him sloppily from root to tip; it’s also the shame bubbling just under his skin, watching you swallow him down with those perfect cock sucking lips. Kuroo can’t stop staring at your swollen mouth sliding up and down his cock; can’t stop bucking his hips and fucking your throat, relishing the noises you make when he shoots his entire load in your sinful mouth with a groan.

You always lick your lips after you suck his cock, like it’s the best damn thing you’ve ever tasted.

And you only smile afterwards when you do it for him.

—

One day, you come home in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, carrying shopping bags that you dump unceremoniously onto the floor. You’re wearing a brand new outfit that looks more expensive than what he makes in a week, gleaming bracelets adorning your wrists and a diamond necklace sparkling on your neck. Gone are your loose worn t-shirts and baggy, low-rise jeans; you look like a model in one of those designer catalogues, or the A-list celebrities going to get coffee in sunny L.A.

Kuroo hates it.

He hates it, because of how right you look in your expensive new outfit; like these are the clothes you’re meant to be wearing.

Like you belong in them all the time, and in a world far, far away from him.

He makes you take all your fancy jewelries off, and then fucks you roughly with two fingers until you come all over his couch.

—

You still show up at the apartment smelling like sex, with bite marks on your collarbone and your lips swollen from kisses.

But you also come home with bags and bags of groceries too, and make sure to stock the fridge full of his favorite beer.

He tells himself that he appreciates your thoughtfulness, and isn’t at all jealous of whoever the hell it is that’s giving you what he needs.

Giving you everything you deserve and could never get from a guy like him.

—

The second time he fucks you is also the last time.

You ask him to go out for dinner one night, to a place with neatly folded cloth napkins and dimly lit candles on the table, and you order the most expensive dish on the menu. You spend the evening devouring a mountain of food and making fun of the pretentious staff, and Kuroo pretends he’s perfectly fine with the fact that some rich asshole he doesn’t know is paying for this good time.

But he bites back the festering resentment and gives you a genuine smile, because he’s never seen you so damned happy and relaxed, laughing and smiling as you make your way back to Kuroo’s apartment. He lets you lead him into the bedroom and shut the door behind them, and grins into the toe curling kiss that follows as you move to the bed.

This time, when he’s got you naked on your hands and knees, he takes care to be gentle and thorough, spreading your legs wide and working you open. He slips his tongue and licks your wetness all over, and tastes every bit of that pretty cunt while you clutch the sheets and writhe and moan.

“Tetsurou,” you pant, as he slides in slowly, inch by excruciating inch. “F-feels so good! Oh, please, please fuck me, god I want to feel you, please..!”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he says, groaning as you arch your back and clench around him. “Gonna make you scream my name.”

And he does, relishing every sound he can wring out of you as he sinks to the root, and every breathless sigh as he starts rocking his hips. Every stroke makes him want to push harder and thrust deeper, as he watches his cock disappear over and over inside that pretty pink hole.

He fucks you for what feels like hours that night, stopping whenever he gets too close to wring every ounce of pleasure possible from your sweat soaked bodies. He fucks you on your knees and then flips you over onto your back, and drives himself inside you like he wants to own him; be the one to break you apart and put you back together again.

“Is it good like this? When he fucks you?” Kuroo snarls, throwing your legs over his shoulders and sinking even deeper. “Do you tell them that you want them so bad? Beg them to ruin you too?”

You don’t answer, spurting all over yourself as he keeps drilling you into the bed. He follows a few rough strokes later with a groan, fingers biting deep into soft flesh, every part of him howling with possessive fury as he paints your tight walls with his come.

“No,” you whisper, much later, with Kuroo’s arms wrapped around you and his nose pressed against your neck. “It’s not like this at all.”

—

The space beside him is empty by the time he wakes the next morning, and there’s a neatly folded note on the nightstand.

He ignores it until he can’t anymore, and then crumples it in his fist and tosses it into the garbage can.

He’s always known that this is how it would end.

Still, he wishes he knew more than just your first name, or how your smile—the real one, soft and genuine—was the best thing he’d ever fucking seen.

He doesn’t see you again for a long time; days and months and years until there’s nothing left but a memory of you and a dull, aching hole in his chest.

#kuroo smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #tw sex work #tw prostitution #kuroo angst #.kuroo!#.fics!

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bosspigeon · 3 years

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not if it's you

Prompt: Day One: Cooking, Day Two: Cuddling💕 Pairing: Mason/Male Detective Words: 3293 Summary: Mason is sick. Mason's not supposed to get sick, but magic tends to not give a shit if you're a big, tough vampire man with a reputation to maintain. A prompt fill for @wayhavensummer that I wasn't sure I'd finish, but I'm glad I decided to. I combined two prompts into one, along with the inclusion of the bonus challenge, "love languages!" Juni's love language is Acts of Service~ CW for emetophobia. Nothing actually happens, but it is discussed!

“I’m not a vampire, Mason,” Juni said to him when he clicked on the lamp on his dresser and Mason growled loudly in protest. “I’m sorry, but I can’t see in the dark.”

Mason's growl became a long, low groaning noise as he dragged a pillow over his face. It helped more than he cared to admit, being immediately plunged into soothing darkness and smothered in the warm, sweet scent of the detective buried in his pillow.

Still, he feels like absolute shit.

The illness should run its course in just a few days, from what Juni’s relayed to him about Nate’s research—since he won’t leave Juni’s apartment (he’s not going to say can’t, because that implies weakness, implies that he couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he could, he just won’t, and that’s all there is to it) until he’s well, and refuses to go crawling to the Agency when he just needs to wait things out.

If he went to the Agency, he’d just be “waiting things out” the same as he is there, only he’d be doing it alone in a stiflingly empty observation room, bored out of his fucking skull until someone decided to come poke at him for science. At least here, he’s got Juni fussing over him.

It’s sort of… nice, being fussed over.

And Juni would be fussing whether Mason was here or not. He’d probably be driving himself crazy with worry, making himself sick with it, if Mason were stuck at headquarters without him, and the thought of that makes Mason feel even worse than he already does. It’s really best for the both of them that the vampire is here, buried in a metric fuckton of blankets (because even if he feels like he’s going to burn alive, the second he leaves them the sweat cools on his skin and leaves him trembling) looking into the blank, beady eyes of a patchwork plush cat.

His entire body aches, throbbing dully from the top down, but he reaches out with a heavy arm and turns it around so it’s not fucking staring at him anymore.

Juni’s been gone for a while, but Mason can hear him over the low ringing in his ears, puttering around in the kitchen. His senses are weakened by the bizarre magical illness Juni’s likened to the flu after hearing the symptoms, but he hears the detective humming quietly to himself, smells some spices and herbs he’s too exhausted to bother identifying over the low thrum of something metallic and familiar.

Mason's stomach growls at the same moment it churns. Hungry, but the very thought of consuming anything, blood included, makes him feel nauseous.

He doesn't know how Juni managed to sweet-talk Adam into handing over Mason's blood rations for the few days it would take this sickness to work its way through his body, but it makes him faintly irked he'll have to disappoint the detective when he tells him he doesn't even think his traitorous stomach can handle it, no matter how hungry he is. Juni always looks so pitiful when he can't help, soft doe eyes and pouty mouth and genuine, heartfelt distress rolling off him in waves. Mason groans into the pillow and comforts himself by drawing another detective-scented breath deep into his lungs.

And then Juni knocks on the doorframe (of his own fucking bedroom, because he's ridiculous, and Mason's chest squeezes) and calls, "Still alive in here?" softly teasing, his voice carefully lowered in deference to Mason's throbbing skull.

He makes a rough noise and tosses aside the pillow, because the only thing better than being buried in Juni-perfumed sheets is taking in the scent of him right from the source.

Juni always looks so different when he's at home. He relaxes, softens, like a bird coming to roost. His shoulders aren't so tense, his eyes stop darting like he's waiting for an attack (something Mason noticed even before Juni was actually under attack every other week) and he just, he looks settled and safe. After the shit he’s been through, he deserves to feel safe.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Mason just awkwardly squirms his way out of the blankets to free his arms enough to reach out.

"C'mere," he grunts.

Juni laughs, and the way his cheeks curve, the way they make his eyes crinkle at the corners, makes Mason hate whatever magic bullshit allowed him to get sick in the first place with a burning fury that feels like it's immolating him from the inside.

Or maybe that's the fever.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Juni teases when Mason growls. It's not as fierce as he hoped it would be, which is more than obvious when Juni only smiles indulgently at him.

He perches on the edge of the bed and smooths a hand over Mason's clammy forehead, making a soft, commiserating cooing noise. Mason wants to be annoyed, wants to growl again, complain about being coddled, but the sound that comes out of him is not a growl, or a curse, but a soft moan. He pushes up into Juni’s hand and closes his eyes.

“You’re still burning up,” Juni sighs, sinking his fingers into the vampire’s hair and scratching at his scalp. He moans again, lower and rougher. A little awkwardly, he adds, “Nate said you should, y’know, drink something.”

Mason’s stomach turns, and he grits his teeth and shakes his head.

“Mason.”

He shakes his head again, turning his face into the pillow again when it starts to make him dizzy. He wants to break something. He feels so pitiful.

“Mason, you’re not gonna get better if you don’t—”

“You ever seen someone puke blood, detective?” he snaps. Juni’s hand retracts sharply, and Mason keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to see the hurt streaking across that soft, expressive face. “It’s not pretty,” he adds gruffly, and it takes all the strength in his flagging body to roll over and turn his back.

Juni’s quiet for a long moment, before soft fingers are sliding into his hair again,rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I had kind of a weird idea that might help, if you think you can stop pouting long enough to hear me out,” he says.

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy, huh?” Mason grumbles, but his body, an aching knot of sweaty tension, starts to slowly loosen up under the gentle petting.

Juni goes quiet again, and then, with a little laugh, he says, “Would it make you feel better if I told you you’re really cute when you’re all whiny?”

“How fucking dare you,” he snarls impotently into the pillow.

Juni laughs, and when Mason rolls over again to glower at him, he snorts trying to stifle it. “Do you want to hear my idea or not?”

“Not exactly in any position to stop you, am I?” Mason scoffs.

The detective pokes his nose. “Nope!” Mason nips at his finger, but his reflexes aren’t exactly great at the moment, and Juni just pulls it back with a smile. “I wanted to ask before I, like, ruined one of your blood rations for a weird experiment, but I’ve been doing research on different recipes that use blood—” “Why?” Mason interjects.

Juni flounders a bit, shoulders drawing up to his ears. “I… Well, I know you don’t like to eat human food, for good reasons, but sometimes I can convince Felix and Adam to try stuff I make, and Nate likes to eat sometimes, and I like… I like cooking for people? And I can’t really do that for you, because I know how overwhelming your senses can be, but you’ve said they’re kind of dull right now, so I thought maybe I could make, well… sort of a blood soup?"

Mason blinks at the detective.

Juni nervously babbles on to fill his befuddled silence. "If I thinned it out with a mild broth, I figured it would go down easier. And I know ginger is really strong on its own, but it also settles the stomach, and with the blood and the broth, it might help? I thought about adding some other things, but I tried to be picky with it, because even if your senses are dulled, I don't want to overwhelm you."

Mason chews it over, and even though he can tell his silence is making Juni nervous with every second that ticks by (fidgety, fussy, open and honest to a goddamned fault, a ball of nerves Mason wants to drag into bed and shield from the world) he can't really think of much to say, except, "Sure. Why the fuck not?"

"That's okay! I figured it was a long shot anyway, and—" Juni freezes, his knee-jerk anxious capitulation cutting off like he’s run into a brick wall. "What?"

"I'm already overwhelmed, sweetheart," Mason groans, and honestly, even talking is getting exhausting, his aching throat protesting every word he can manage to eke out. He wants Juni closer, wants to bury his face in his neck and hide like a wounded animal crawling its way home. "It honestly can't get worse at this point. If you think it'll help, I'll try it."

Juni still looks stunned, but is also clearly jangling with nervous excitement. Nate's used the term "puppyish enthusiasm" before when describing the way Juni lights up when he's actually able to help, and it's almost comically accurate.

Juni's bolted from the room before Mason's sluggish brain has a chance to even process the humor at the observation into a snort.

He's alone again, and if Juni were still here, he'd call what Mason's doing pouting, but he's scowling, damn it. Not that anyone's around to see it save for Juni's stuffed animals. He pulls the pillow to his chest, half-burying himself underneath the blankets again. He keeps his foggy focus stretched far enough to hear Juni in the kitchen again, making a game effort not to clatter around noisily and failing spectacularly. It's the thought that counts, Mason supposes.

It doesn't actually take all that long for him to come back, but it still feels like ages with how shitty Mason feels. He's painfully aware of every single ache in his body, radiating down to his bones, of the fever burning him up, the mutinous turning of his stomach even as it gnaws itself apart with hunger. He’s becoming so bogged down in the prison his ailing body has become, he almost doesn’t notice Juni pattering his way back into the room. Almost.

The second he crosses the threshold, Mason senses are honing in on everything they can about him, his smell, his warmth, the way his cozy sweater (it’s midsummer, for fuck’s sake, and sure the AC is cranked due to Mason’s fever, but it always is, because Juni’s body regulates temperature like a goddamned lizard and he hates the heat almost more than Mason does) makes him look soft and touchable. It takes him a long while to even notice the detective is carrying a tea tray with a bowl on it, as well as a glass of water, and when he does, he’s honestly not sure what to make of the smell.

Human food is overwhelming, usually. But usually, Mason’s sinuses aren’t swollen and borderline useless. Juni is walking as carefully as he can, and there is a palpable relief when he sets the tray down on his bedside table without incident. “I made the broth already, because I didn’t want it to take too long if you said yes. It actually smells, like, really good? Is that gross of me to say?”

Mason tries to push himself upright, and his muscles protest loudly enough that he can’t quite bite back a grunt of pain. Juni makes a sound like he’s been shot, and his hands are on Mason with an urgency that vibrates through his skin. Still, his touch is an instant balm to the vampire’s overwrought senses, his hands gentle as they ease him upright and fussily pile pillows behind him to support him. It fucking sucks to be so weak, but at least it’s only Juni seeing him like this. He can’t quite express why, when it feels like his head’s stuffed full of cotton, but he thinks it would suck a lot more if he were riding this out alone, or in a sterile room at HQ. He lolls his head towards Juni, his cheek smashing against one of a half-dozen goddamned pillows piled around him, and laughs weakly. “Gonna feed me too, Nurse Fenn?”

Juni blushes, and the usual rush of his blood doesn’t smack Mason in the face like usual, but it washes over him in a gentle wave of warmth, that tempting smell tickling the back of his tongue. “Do you need me to?” he asks, and it’s pretty clear he’s trying to make it sound teasing, but it comes out much more earnest than anything else.

Mason almost wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want Juni to be in the splash zone if his stomach decides it can’t handle the detective’s little experiment. “Nah, I got it,” he grunts, reaching for the tray. It trembles dangerously when his shaking hands lift it, but Juni’s quick to steady it and guide it to his lap. He mutters a quiet thanks, and Juni mercifully doesn’t rib him for his uncharacteristic politeness. “You’d make a cute nurse, detective,” he says to cover the strangely loaded silence.

Juni laughs and sits on the edge of the bed, close but not quite touching. “I’m too squeamish,” he offers with a shrug that rubs their shoulders together.

“You just made me soup out of blood,” Mason says dully.

“I also have a borderline breakdown giving myself the same shot I’ve been giving myself every week for the last decade,” Juni retorts. “Do you really think I could do it for someone else?”

Mason snorts. “Probably not. Would kill to see you in one of those little dresses, though.”

The only thing protecting Mason from getting a hilariously ineffectual swat on the shoulder is the bowl of soup in his lap. He’s not even sure his current feeble condition would be enough to stop Juni otherwise. “Eat your soup, asshole,” Juni groans, covering his burning face with his hands. He peeks through his fingers after a moment’s hesitation, “And maybe I’ll show you the Halloween costume Tina got me as a joke a couple years ago when you’re feeling better.”

Mason’s whole body reacts to that, and he can’t be sure if the chill that rolls down his spine is due to the illness, or something else entirely. If nothing else, choking down some soup will be worth it, just for that promise.

The first spoonful goes down surprisingly easy. He doesn’t really taste much, at first, not even the coppery tang of blood. It’s thin, as Juni promised, so it doesn’t quite coat his mouth the same way fresh, raw blood would. Juni’s watching him with obvious concern, eyebrows scrunched together and plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. Either concern that Mason’s body is going to reject it fully, or he just won’t fucking like it. Probably both.

“It’s not too hot, is it?” Juni asks, touching Mason’s knee lightly through the blanket. He swallows his mouthful hard and bites down the urge to ask the human not to stop touching him.

“S’fine,” he grunts, trying to parse what exactly he makes of it at all. The warmth feels nice, soothing his raw throat. He takes another bite. He thinks he can sort of make out the individual spices underneath the taste of the blood and the broth (slightly watered down bone broth, he;d guess) but he can’t really smell them either. The ginger, at least, is obvious. He knows the smell enough to guess the taste, even with the complete lack of culinary experience. It’s, strangely enough, not horrible. It does taste mostly like thinned-out blood, which is weird, and gives him a sense of dissonance from the texture he expects blood to have. “Weird.”

Juni doesn’t seem to take offense to that. “Well, you’re not spewing it across the room like you’re possessed, at least, so weird is better than bad?” he laughs, squeezing Mason’s knee. “How’s your stomach?”

Mason takes a second to consider. “Not great, but not terrible.”

Juni almost deflates with relief. “And the taste? It’s not too much, is it? I can be kind of heavy-handed with my seasoning, so I tried to be really careful. It’s really only a pinch of salt, sage, and ginger, with a little bit of licorice root, which I know is kind of weird, but it’s good for sore throats?”

“Tastes like…” Mason screws up his face, realizing he has absolutely no context to work with. “I don’t know. I think I like it?”

Juni smiles like the goddamned sun, and it somehow makes his snarky little pet name for Mason that much funnier. “Really?”

Mason’s not sure he’d be saying the same thing if his senses weren’t dulled to near-uselessness by his traitorous body, but the way Juni looks, like he couldn’t be happier to be dealing with a sick, cranky vampire hogging his bed and sweating in his sheets, makes him bite his tongue. There’s always a brightness to the human when he brings food to the warehouse for Nate and Felix, he smiles so wide his face almost cracks when Adam crumples under the weight of those puppy eyes and takes the smallest portion of whatever concoction Juni’s brought to nibble on, and offers the most awkward compliment he can manage. Juni just likes doing things for people, providing for them any way he can. Food is his usual go-to, but if he can help at all, he’s happy.

I can’t really do that for you.

It almost makes Mason wish he could enjoy whatever the detective whips up in his cramped little kitchen, just to make him smile.

Christ, his brain must be more addled than he thought.

He manages a few more spoonfuls of soup before his stomach starts to feel uncomfortably full, but the gnawing hunger of going too long without drinking has gone away, and he doesn’t feel so much like he’s going to puke like he did earlier. He feels heavy, and tired, and honestly that’s one hell of an improvement. Juni’s quick to take the tray and spirit it off back to the kitchen, bending to press a quick kiss to Mason’s cheek before he goes, and when he returns, the vampire is slumped in his pillow nest and half-asleep, eyes shuttered to thin slits.

He feels more than he sees Juni approach, and when a gentle hand smooths over his clammy forehead, he pushes up into it with a raw, weak noise he has zero energy to be embarrassed by anymore. He reaches out blindly, tangles his fingers in the knit of his detective’s sweater, and tugs. He can’t be sure how it happens, a jumble of movement and complaining muscles, but Juni winds up in bed with him, slouched comfortably against the pillows so Mason can rest his head on the soft curve of his belly. The human plays idly, sweetly with his hair, twirling damp curls around his fingers.

“I’m sweaty,” Mason halfheartedly protests. Juni’s stomach rises and falls beneath his head. It feels like being on the ocean, like being rocked to sleep on quiet waves.

“I don’t mind,” Juni murmurs, thumb stroking the shell of his ear.

Before he can think of anything to say to that, he’s being pulled under, dozing off between one breath and the next.

48 notes · View notes

cookiebirdtui · 3 years

Text

Carlton’s fate. story

So, before we start on the story I have a few things to say

TW:Blood, crawly things under skin.

This follow’s Carlton, a month after the events of fourth closet.

This is not cannon, and just happens in my au.

Carlton hastily walked through the old rocky streets of hurricane. He gripped at his grey hoodie sleeves, the soft material becoming weaker every time he wore it. It had been a month. A month since he was released from the hospital. A month since he almost died for a second time. A month since Charlie went missing again. A month since he was faced with the serial killer, William Afton. A month since he was stabbed in the chest with remnant.

A month since he saw Michael.

After the accident, Carlton was always on high alert when walking around hurricane, and always precocious of everything he did, always, always afraid of something. Carlton didn’t like it. Not one bit. He didn’t show how much Freddys impacted him last time, Even though a few years ago he was shaken to the core. Nightmares always awoke him, making him silently shed tears. And they were always the same thing. What if. What if this, what if that.

What if Charlie didn’t save him?

But unlike a few years ago, unfortunately, he wasn’t so silent about waking up. Since leaving the hospital, sometimes he awoke by being shaken by his dad, a look of worry on his face, as he was told he was screaming. His face turned bright pink after that. Carlton sighed, looking back on the many memories he had of awakenings exactly like that, as he continued to walk home.

CLANG!

Carltons soul jumped, as he whipped his head around, his eyes skuttering around, his adrenaline spiked. There wasn’t anything there. Carlton put his hand on his chest, in an attempt to calm down his nerves. While he was still trying to calm down, he caught eyes with something rusty, in an alleyway, but as soon as he caught eyes on it, it seemed to duck around an alleyway corner. Carltons breath stopped. He stepped back, shaking. All he wanted to do was run straight to his house, or Jessica's, or John’s, or someone who he knew he could trust, but a small part of him, a part of him that he now kept tucked away because he knew it was dangerous, was curious. It was such a small part of him that it shouldn’t have any influence on what he did, and he should just get out of there and go home. Key word: shouldn’t.

As he began walking down the alleyway, he kept on thinking of turning back, but his feet decided they had their own mind today. And plus, as many thoughts as there were that this scenario was dangerous, there were equal amounts that stated he was overreacting, and that it was probably just a mouse. And besides, nothing terrible would happen!

Oh how wrong he was.

Carlton turned the corner of the weirdly designed alleyway, to face….

Trash Cans and bins. Carlton let the feeling of disappointment and relief flood him. He turned back around to get out of the way too creepy alleyway, But then he heard it. Another shuffle. Carlton slowly turned his head, his face full of fear and curiosity. But mainly fear. Absolutely mainly fear. He heard another shuffle, making the hair on his neck stand up even more than it already was. He thought he heard it from one of the closest bins near him, and even though every nerve screamed at him not to get closer, he found himself unwillingly walking up to it. Once he approached the bin, he had to jump and pull his body up to look in. It was empty. Absolutely empty. Not even a single trash bag. Satisfied with his results, Carlton jumped back down, then patted the metal bin. He turned to leave once again, but before he could take his hand off, he heard another sound. It was quiet, but ear shattering, and he immediately covered his ears with his hands. The screeching ended after a few seconds, and Carlton warely removed his hands, afraid that it would start again. He turned his head to the bin, a wave of annoyance and repetition consuming him. He stomped over to the bin and looked inside, and yet again. Nothing. Just like last time. Carlton rolled his eyes as he jumped down, and felt the bin slide a bit. Carlton probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but after...everything, he found his senses heightened. That and the wheel rolled on his foot. “DAMN IT!” Carlton yelled, as he pushed the bin off. After a few seconds of wiggling his foot, he realized something. He looked at the bin, with a new wave of uncertainty. He approached it as if it was a monster going to eat him.

Or a deadly suit.

Then he began to look over the bins, to see if he could spot anything from behind. He looked over the shiny plastic lids, on his tippy toes.

He shouldn’t have looked over.

Suddenly, a bear, that reminded him of Freddy, jumped out from behind the bin, and let out an earth shattering screech. He didn’t look like any type of Freddy that Carlton knew though. It looked as if it didn’t have an exoskeleton, just a tangle of wires, with what Carlton thought -and hoped-, were animatronics eyes mixed in. But it’s face, looked like it was about to fall apart, all rusty. Hints of bronze and silver only peaked out from underneath.

Carlton screamed, falling on his back, shuffling back to try to get away from it. Of course, it didn’t keep away, as it lept on Carlton. Carlton shrieked, kicking the thing, off of him. Carlton desperately stood up, stumbling, starting to run away, and. Get. Out.

Unfortunately for Carlton, the Freddy abomination reached out and took a hold of Carltons legs, leading him to fall on his face. Tears pricked up in his eyes, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get out of the stupid alleyway. The red head screeched when the wires climbed further up, and he desperately tried to pry the wires off his legs.

It didn’t work. If anything it just angered the broken Freddy even more. Wires continued to slither up Carlton's body, like snakes. Thousands of snakes. Tears streamed down his face, as he continued screaming, trying to get rid of the thing that reminded him of so many traumatizing memories.

It Didn’t work.

Carlton screamed, the loudest scream he’s screamed yet, with a burst of adrenaline, he dragged his leg out of the wires and coyles, kicking it in the face in the process. It fell back on the ground with a satisfying thump.

Carlton scrambled up, his pulse was out of his body by the time he began running for the corner. He could just about see it, when he felt something wrap around his body, and his body sprung back, just like a spring. He landed in the pile of wires, that seemed to make its own little wall, or spider's web. The thousands of wires wrapped around his arms and legs, keeping him in place. He tried to pull away, but his arms snapped right back in place, like glue.

Or Aftons bounds.

A face he knew was the animatronics -or whatever it was- stretched out in front of him. And I mean, literally stretched. Wires that came from seemingly nowhere helped it do that. It reminded Carlton of a giraffe's neck. The face seemed to stare at Carlton, as if looking for something. After about a minute, Carlton felt a prickling pain on his wrist. He tried to ignore it, arguing that it would go away, and he would also regret turning to face his wrist. The pain didn’t go away. If anything it just got worse. After about a while of this, he snapped his head to look at what was wrong. The pile of wires…..was cutting open his wrist, overlapping the same cut, over and over again, as if trying to make it wider. And there was the blood. All of this blood. Streams and streams of it, running from his wrist, before inevitably falling on the ground, creating a puddle. Carlton immediately felt nauseous, and regretted looking at the thousands of drops of blood. HIS blood. Carlton tried pulling his hand out of the way, but instead, just ended up accidentally shoving the wire into the cut. He screamed, as the nerves in his wrist affected his entire body. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if to stop the pain. It didn’t. He then felt something, very, VERY unsettling. And it was PAINFUL too. Almost as painful as the remnant. Almost. Carlton opened his eyes to see what the pile of wires was doing. It horrified him. The wires,

were crawling up his wrists.

Wires, hundreds of them, were crawling up under his skin. He then screamed, not in fear like before, but in agony. The slithering continued up his arm, as Carlton bent down in pain. The rest of the wires wrapped around his body to stop him falling to the ground. A shriek escaped his mouth, as his shoulder jerked up, due to the fact that hundreds of wires were now crawling on his nerves on his shoulders. Ok, maybe now it was a little more painful than the remnant. A little. He looked up, to face the Freddy mask, just, staring at him. Carlton stared back, with one thought crossing his mind. What is it doing?

Carltons head then jerked down, and all feeling in his neck was gone, which terrified him. Tears fell down his face, as he began to silently sob. He felt his head being lifted up. He hesitantly opened his eyes, to face the Freddy creature doing…. Honestly Carlton didn’t know what it was doing. He ground his teeth, as tears continued to soak his face, the excruciating pain not stopping for even a moment. After a few seconds, Carlton realised it was looking at his neck. Carlton gave the Freddy, -which Carlton realized, looked sorta molten together- his skeptical eyes through the level of tears, that seemingly came from nowhere. It wasn’t until it’s wires came closer to Carlton's neck, did he realize what it was going to do. Carlton thrashed around, one last shot of adrenaline burst through his body, trying to get away from those particular wires. He only stopped when the wave of pain got inflicted onto his body, making him gasp for breath. Out of nowhere, a wiry, disfigured hand held his face in place, making him keep still. Carlton felt a sudden swipe across his neck, and then pain erupted through his body. Carlton screamed, as he felt bucket loads of the crimson liquid leak from the gaping whole in his neck. He gasped for breath, the taste of blood pilling up in his mouth. A familiar sense of tiredness consumed him. He felt his cheek hit the stoney pavement before blacking out.

***

Jessica layed on her bed, reading what she had to read for homework, or at least trying to read, but instead kept flicking her eyes to her phone (pretend that phones were a thing then). Carlton left from her apartment, and said he was going to go home. She asked him if he would call her when he got home. He promised he would. That was 2 hours ago. Jessica knew that his house was more on the edge of town, but it wouldn’t have taken 2 HOURS to get there. Probably 45 minutes at the least, and 1 hour and a half at the most. She had experience going back and forth this past month. Carlton wouldn’t admit it, but she would see the worry in his eyes whenever someone talked about that day. The day they rescued the kids from the new pizzeria. The day that Charlie went missing again, though she suspected John knew what happened.

The day she thought Carlton died.

She would never forget it. Finding him was a miracle, but yet, she was terrified. He probably would’ve died if they didn’t find him right then. Jessica remembered very clearly. The amount of blood he was losing through that stab wound. His sickeningly pale skin. His shallow breathing. When the ambulance came she wanted to go with them. She wanted to watch over him, to make sure he was alright. If anything, she was acting like Marla. When the ambulance left, and they were all waiting for Clay, she remembered, very vividly, looking over and finding a child’s drawing right next to where they found Carlton. She knew that she didn’t see it earlier, and pocketed it, in case it was Carltons. It was. She remembered talking to Carlton in his hospital room.

-She also remembered entering her house to the mess of the hallway. She was quite annoyed.-

He was acting as if nothing happened at all, and he was his bright and cheery self. Everyone thought nothing of it, but a week after, when he left the hospital, he started acting, weird… It started off gradually, him just being skittish when someone suddenly snuck up behind him, making less jokes, and wanting to go to town less. Completely normal behavior, everyone thought. But that was before Clay told them that he sometimes awoke to Carlton screaming in his sleep.

Screaming about how he was sorry he couldn’t save them. Screaming about how they couldn’t trust him. Screaming about someone getting away from him.

Screaming in pure agony.

(Jessica wondered who they were.)

When Clay told them about Carlton, Jessica had to admit, she didn’t think it was so bad. But that was before she went over to their house.

She was over to help with the investigation of finding Charlie again. John was also over. Said he had to leave his apartment.

They were in the living room, reading over some files that honestly just confused Jessica. John was lying on the couch, just staring at the ceiling. Jessica looked up from the files to try and clear her head. She looked around at the surroundings, only to find that someone was missing. “Clay, where’s Carlton?” she asked, turning to the older man. He stopped for a second before looking at her. She didn’t miss the concern that flashed on his face. “He went to bed early, and, by the looks of it, you two should be heading off to bed soon”. Jessica was about to reply with how her and John's home was about an hour away, when a scream echoed through the house. A look of shock was on everyone's faces. “WHAT. WAS. THAT!” John yelled, a hint of worry in his voice. Clay looked over to him sadly. “Carlton has been getting nightmares lately, didn’t I tell you?” a look of confusion on his face when he said the last part. John looked away in shame. She knew that he didn’t think they were that bad, that and the fact he was still grieving over Charlie. Suddenly, another ear-piercing scream erupted through the house. This wasn’t like the last one though, it sounded, painful. She stared at John, giving him a look, and he looked back, then nodded. They both rushed upstairs and burst into Carltons room. The scene was terrifying. Carlton was screaming in pure agony. He was clutching his sleeves as if he was going to die if he let them go. Hot tears streamed down his face onto his pillow case, and he was curled up as if he was in pain. To him he probably was in pain. “Carlton…” Jessica whispered, making her way into the boys room. “Carlton, CARLTON!” she shouted, panic settling into her voice, as she shook him. He shot up, gasping for breath. He looked over from his bed, and then, unexpectedly, hugged her. It was so sudden, that all she could do was stand there. John's eyes widened from the hallway at the unexpected hug. Jessica was about to ask Carlton to get off of her, when she heard that he was rambling about something. “Please don’t go, I don’t want to be alone again, don’t leave me please, I’m sorry, don’t leave, Please don’t go”. He kept on repeating, in between gasps for breaths and silent sobs. It pulled at her heart. She turned to John, who was silently sneaking into the room. Then all of a sudden, his grip seemed to tighten, and he started loudly sobbing. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s my fault, it’s always my fault, he’s dead because of me!” he yelled out the last part, shocking both of the others even more. He thought Michael was his fault? Carlton began shaking, stepping back, surprising jessica. He clutched his arms before hyperventilating and rambling on, and on about something Jessica didn’t know about. “They left me, they left me, they left me, they left me, they left me…” he continued on and on, stepping back until he hit the wall, before sliding down, still grasping onto his arms. “John, go get Clay, NOW!” she shouted the last part, whipping her head around to face John, tears making the way to her eyes. John didn’t need to be asked twice, as he ran out of the room. She turned her eyes to face Carlton, panic making the way through her body. And he kept repeating the same thing over and over again.“..They left me, they left me, they left me, they left me, they left me, they left me, I’m going to die here. It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have told them!” Realisation hit her hard when she realized what he was referring to. Was he still thinking of that? “I got Clay-” she heard John start, before looking down onto Carlton’s hyperventilating body. Clay pushed fords, and Jessica clearly saw the look of horror on his face. She guessed she had the same. He slowly walked up Carlton before bending down and placing his hand on Carlton's shoulder. Jessica saw Carlton flinch, before looking at his dad, with a face that would make mostly everyone cry. He then looked at her, before his head dropped onto his fathers shoulder. He was unconscious.

“What….was that?” John finally asked, when they closed his bedroom door after they placed Carlton back onto his bed. He looked so peaceful, and not like he was screaming in pain a few minutes ago. Nobody could quite answer him. “I’m….. sorry. It’s never been this bad. Not even close”. Clay looked at them with a face of worry. None of them have ever seen Carlton like this before, wallowed in screams and self doubt. It scared Jessica. Alot. “I know what he was talking about…” Jessica whispered, which surprised the three of them. “Talking about..what?” John asked, his voice soft. Tears fell down her eyes at the thought. “Y-you know, how Carlton kept on saying over and over again that ‘they left me’?” Jessica asked, looking at John. He nodded, confused. Jessica gulped before starting again. “I-I think he w-was referring to the, the Freddy incident” she stuttered. Confusion was all over John’s face. “But, you said that he went looking for the little kid himsel-” “I meant the the a few years ago.” a wave of horror washed up along John’s face, as the realisation hit him too, maybe even harder. The hallway was silent. “Oh my god….”. His response was honest. “We left him! We left him there! How on earth has he been able to forgive us, nonetheless act like everything was fine for years! He was stuck in that suit for over 24 hours! He could’ve died! He would’ve died! And afterwards he acted like everything was ok! And we believed him! Even while he had that concussion and was puking his guts out, he was somehow able to ask if we’re ok!” John ranted, pacing back and forth. Clay looked at them hesitantly, afraid to say anything that would set them off. “You two should head off to bed, and don’t worry, you can stay the night.” Jessica and John looked at each other with a worried glance, before trudging off to the spare rooms they slept in last time.

Jessica sighed, shaking her head, as she continued on with trying to read her homework. He probably just forgot.

BUZZ!

Jessica looked up and saw who just texted her.

Clay

<Hey, can you tell Carlton to leave your place soon?

I can’t get ahold of him on my phone.

Jessica looked at the message, confused by what he meant by that.

Um, he left a while ago>

Why?>

<Really?! He hasn’t come home yet.

Concern washed over her face as she furiously typed.

I thought he was at your house!>

<How long ago did he leave your house

…>

<Jessica?...

2 hours ago…>

<REALLY! I’m going to go look for him. Can you please help?

Of course, he’s my best friend!>

Panic settled into Jessica. He wasn’t at his house?! She lept off her bed, grabbing a random jacket on the back of her desk chair in the process. She slipped it on, as her hands stumbly pressed John's number. Of course, only after she tried to call Carlton. He didn’t pick up. She was halfway down the stairs of her apartment when John picked up. “Jessica?” John answered tiredly, even though it was about three in the afternoon. “John! Can you help me look for Carlton? I thought he was at his house, but his dad just texted to ask him to leave mine!” She started yelling, hearing the pitter patter of her footsteps. “Ok, ok I’m up-” Jessica wondered what he was doing before she called. “-how long ago did he leave?” “TWO HOURS AGO! JOHN, do you think I would call you about this if he left 10 minutes ago?!” she yelled, finally making her way to the ground floor, before throwing open the doors “Ok, I’m sorry ok! Have you tried calling Carlton?” she heard the shuffling around his house, as if to try and find something. “Yes! He didn’t pick up!” her voice was frantic, as she walked out to the streets outside of her house. “Ok, I’ll look around my apartment, you look around yours, we’ll check in with each other in 30 minutes again. Ok?” she heard the jingling of keys in the door from her phone. “Ok” she responded back. There was the loud beep of the call ending. She looked around the streets, panicked.

It had been 30 minutes. No one has found Carlton yet. She was rushing past the shops, resisting the urge to scream his name. The sound of ringing from her phone distracted her for a fraction of a second, as she brought the ringing phone to her ear. “Hello?” “Jessica, it’s John, have you found Carlton yet?” She let herself sigh as she continued walking. “No I haven’t John. He’s nowhere near his walk home from my house!” She looked across the street, in hopes to find an adorable red tuft of hair. She couldn’t spot it. She was about to look away, she thought she spotted something in an alleyway. She squinted. Her eyes widened. “Jessica? You still there?” she heard John's voice ask. “I think I should call the police.” She answered, mindlessly. “What! Why?!” She heard John yell in her ear, just like she was doing half an hour ago. Jessica then realized what she just said. “I spotted some blood across the street, in an alleyway, and I’m sure I can stop the search for a second to call the police.” She told John, as she started crossing the street (looking both ways, obviously), “John?” “Do you think it’s Carlton?”. She reached the outside of the alleyway when he said that. She stopped. He said it so quiet, that she almost missed it. She hadn’t thought of that. She gulped. “I h-hope it’s not.” She knew that he heard her stutter. She took a deep breath, before stepping into the alleyway. She stopped right before turning the corner. And right before stepping into blood. It looked as if it was still slowly spreading. It looked new, but not brand new ether. Approximately an hour and a half. She shook off the fact that Carlton would be around here at that time. She took a deep breath in before turning the corner.

Her phone collided with the ground. Her eyes widened. Her breath stopped. All she could do was stand. After what felt like eternity, Jessica slowly placed one foot in front of the other, slowly making her way to the thing that rendered her speechless. It was like she was walking through honey. After a few steps, she started sprinting, like it was the end of the world. And for her, it might have been.

“CARLTON!” Tears rushed to her eyes as she knelt by the body of one of her best friends.‘Friend? Yeah right.’ Blood soaked her jeans, but Jessica didn’t notice. She was trying to turn the body over to face her. When the body came to face her, she stifled a gasp. Just barely. She started bawling her eyes out, like a little kid. His face was all scratched up. No, not scratches, gashes, all over his face. His ginger hair was soaked with the crimson liquid. A gigantic, deep, cut was slashed on his neck, and looked like it was still bleeding. Cuts covered his legs. Jessica took deep gasps of breaths in, as she gingerly lifted his head up, cradling it like a baby. Tears kept on flowing from her eyes, as she looked at his wrists, (for some odd reason). She stared at them, as if looking for something. She carefully rolled up the grey sweaters sleeves -which were now more maroon than grey-. Her breath stopped for a second time. There were deep gashes across his wrist, but it wasn’t just that, that made her breath stop. By what she could tell, there were pieces of metal, inside his wrist and under his skin. She started sobbing uncontrollably, not hearing John's request to know what was going on.

***

John heard. He was confused, but heard. He heard the sound of clashing against the ground, and Jessica screaming, then sobbing from a distance. “Jessica, who was it? Are you ok? Jessica? Jessica?!” Then, John stopped, recalling what he said earlier.

“Do you think it’s Carlton?”

Tears silently made its way down his face, plopping on the concrete ground below him. John started rushing around, asking continuous questions of “where are you?” After about ten minutes, he heard, just over a whisper, “I’m at ***********” . As soon as heard the address, he rushed over as fast as he could.

He couldn’t have missed it. There were police cars everywhere. And what felt like hundreds of ambulances. John's eyes scuttered around until he spotted Jessica. It wasn’t hard. She was just to the side of the alleyway. She was sobbing. Tears made their way down her already red face. Officer Burke was standing next to her, his hand on her shoulder. His eyes were hazy, as if he wasn’t exactly there with them, and he just left his body behind. It looked like he had been crying too. He made his way up to them, just as other officers started putting up yellow tape. Suddenly, he was wrapped around in an unexpected hug. He felt hot tears hit his shoulders. He then let his own tears slip from his eyes. For it was a day where they lost one of their own.

Little did anyone know, but the rusty pile of wires, at the back on the alleyway, that no one gave a second glance at, now burned with a new life.

A new soul.

#carlton burke #fnaf tse #fnaf carlton #molten freddy #fnaf jessica #fnaf john #fnaf clay burke

32 notes · View notes

eelistolvanen · 3 years

Text

Bruises that you left behind - Travis Konecny Pt.3

A/N: So since we’ve almost reached 100 notes on Part 2, I finally got the motivation to finish the next part. So thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged or commented! Let me know if you like it! Part 4 is in the works but I’d greatly appreciate some feedback :)

So here it is, there will finally be some Travis x reader interactions, so buckle up folks ;)

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of suspected cheating, no proofread (as usual)

You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

_____________________________

You were nursing the worst hangover you’ve ever had the morning after. You’d already drunk enough at the party, but after Kevin had left, once he brought you home, you’d downed a entire bottle of red wine in self pity. You weren’t really sure anymore what triggered your episode. You wanted to blame your outburst against Travis on the alcohol, but deep down you knew there was another reason, the alcohol just aided it. After all this time you were still hurt. You’d never really gotten over it.

Getting out of bed proved to be a real struggle. But after half an hour you were sitting at your kitchen island trying to eat some breakfast. The pounding headache had gotten a bit better after taking some painkillers, but was still noticeable.

For a quick moment you though the ringing in your ears reappeared, then you realised that someone had actually rang your doorbell. You could already imagine who was standing behind the door as you approached it. Not entirely ready to face one of his lectures, but you couldn’t really avoid it.

“Damn, you look a lot worse than I expected you to.” This was all you were greeted with as Nolan moved past you into your apartment.

“It’s nice to see you too, Nols.” You scoffed sarcastically.

He sat down at the kitchen island and waited for you to join him. Both of you stayed silent as Nolan let his gaze wander over the mess in your kitchen. Surprisingly, he didn’t comment on it, a quick headshake was all that you got.

“I know Haysey already told you that we didn’t know that he would show, but I just needed to tell you myself. We really didn’t know. He wasn’t even invited and I have no idea why he thought he needed to make an appearance. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You knew that he felt bad, just like Kevin. But it wasn’t their fault. And as much as you wished not to have to see him, you also knew that there always was a chance that you’d crossed paths somewhere.

“It’s fine, Nols. I’m not mad and you did nothing wrong, so no need to apologize. It should probably be me apologizing, after all I’m the one who called his girlfriend a puckbunny, so… “

Nolan chuckled at your words. “I’m pretty sure they’re not dating, so don’t be sorry. I mean, I thought it seemed to be very fitting for her but anyway… Let’s forget about that.”

You gladly accepted. The two of you hung out for another hour or so, before Nolan decided that he probably shut head over to Kelsey’s.

Sometime in the afternoon Kevin texted you and asked if you wanted to hang out in the evening. You agreed to it even though you knew that Kevin would bring up the whole Travis thing as well.

It did take Kevin surprisingly long til he brought Travis up though. And you knew that this conversation was about to come.

“He called me today.” Kevin didn’t have to name any names for you to know he was talking about him. “And he asked about you.”

You waited for him to keep going but he stayed silent.

“So?” Kevin exhaled loudly and made eye contact with you. “I just thought you wanted to know…”

“Do I?” You couldn’t stop your voice from being laced with poison. You were being rude and you knew it. Kevin never asked to be dragged into this.

“Ahh, I don’t know Y/N. Come on, I’m trying here. Well anyway, he wanted to know about you. What you were doing at the party. Why we went together. Why you’re in Philly.”

You felt irritated. Why on earth would he care. He felt. He had no right to ask Kevin about you.

“So you told him, huh?” You were being unfair, you knew you had to stop acting like a bitch towards Kev, but God you couldn’t help it.

“ No, Y/N! I didn’t. I didn’t tell him anything because I didn’t want you to get hurt-“

“You also told him that he wouldn’t show to the party.” That was low, even for you.

“For fucks sake, Y/N! He wasn’t invited, he wasn’t supposed to show up, okay? I get it, you never wanted to see him again but it’s to late now. Just don’t take your anger out on me, I did nothing wrong.”

You deserved to be called out like this. He was right after all, you had taken it out on him. And Nolan. And neither of them did anything wrong.

“So what do I do now? I mean this is the exact reason why I left that life behind. Because even though you’re my family, it also means that everything I tried to avoid is catching up to me. And I don’t know how to handle that, Kev.”

“But you can’t run away anymore, Y/N. You have to face it. And maybe talking to him would do you good. You know, talking like adults. Civilized.” He meant well but you still felt like he was accusing you.

“Civilized? So I don’t know how to talk civilized?” There was disbelief in your voice. Was he serious?

“No, you do… It’s just that swearing at him and calling him names won’t get you anywhere. That’s all I’m saying.” He was right but you still hated to hear it. There was so much pent up emotion inside you, you had to get rid of it somehow.

“I know what you mean Kev. But I can’t just forgive him…”

“And I’m not asking you to. But I know that you want to know the reason and you won’t get an answer unless you talk to him. An I know he wants to talk to you…”

He was speaking softly, quietly asking you to speak to Travis. You were walking a fine line, you knew that. But you were also painfully aware of the fact that you wouldn’t get any better unless you started to face this. Face him. And your feelings towards him.

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

Every turn Kevin made, made you feel more nauseous. The closer you got to him the more you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t know if I can do this Kev.” Your voice felt weak, barely above a whisper.

Kevin quickly glanced over to you in the passenger seat. A worried look flashed over his face.

“Yes you can, Y/N. At least try okay? You agreed to meet him and if it gets to much, I’m gonna be waiting in the car, okay? And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

You felt yourself relax slightly. You were still nervous but knowing that Kevin was close by, put you slightly at ease. You had to do this. For you.

Kevin parked the car in a parking space beside the sidewalk, only meters from the entrance to the park. You hadn’t been here in a while. You hadn’t been here many times anyway. A couple of times with Travis, when you were walking the dogs. It wasn’t your usual spot, which was exactly the reason why you choose it. It didn’t hold any particular memories that could hurt you. You barely even remembered what this park looked like. Kevin pulled you out of your thoughts as he put his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N. You can do this. And I’m here, okay?” You could feel him squeeze your shoulder as you slowly nodded and got out of the car.

You saw him as soon as you walked through the entrance of the park. He had his back to you and you couldn’t see his face but you would always recognize his silhouette. You felt your heart get heavy. You started to walk towards him, fighting all the urges to turn around and run away from him as fast as you could. He hadn’t noticed you, so you could still pull out. But once you got within a 10 feet he must have heard your footsteps. He wiped around quickly and you were left wondering how this movement didn’t give him whiplash.

“Y/N. You came.” His voice was quiet and he send you a quick smile. It didn’t reach his eyes though, they were filled with sorrow. His sad smile made your heart ache.

You looked at him. For the first time in almost 2.5 years you really looked at him. You almost felt yourself taken aback at the dark rings underneath his eyes. He looked tired, exhausted even and completely worn out. In a way he looked almost the same than he used to. But in some way he also looked like a completely different person. The radiance, the light that he used to give off seemingly had vanished. His bubbliness seemed to have made space for something darker. He looked hollow, almost as if the Travis standing in front of you was a ghost of the man he used to be. To a stranger he probably would have looked completely normal. Physically he hadn’t really changed that much, but all those little things that made Travis Travis weren’t there anymore.

He had noticed your shocked expression as well as you gave him a one over.

“I look like shit, huh?” He was trying to lighten the mood, but if anything it made it worse.

“No no, you just look… different.” You knew he didn’t buy your lie, but you didn’t feel like pity him so you did what you did so well. Turn defensive.

“So your girlfriend let you go and talk to me?” Travis scoffed at your words.

“She’s not my girlfriend. And you don’t have to worry about her, you won’t see her around again.”

“I still shouldn’t have called her a puckbunny. That was low.” You genuinely felt sorry about it. Even if she was one of those girls, calling her out in front of the entire team wasn’t your proudest moment.

Travis chuckled slightly. “Nah, it’s fine.” His expression turned serious again, almost sour. “You and Hayesy, huh?”

At first you didn’t even understand what he meant. It took you a moment to regain your composure.

“What? No, we’re friends. Same as we’ve always been. Nothing more.”

At first he looked sceptical but slowly he seemed to relax. Which then sparked anger inside of you.

“It shouldn’t really be any of your concern though, I mean what do you care? You left me.”

Your emotions were bubbling inside of you. And as hard as you tried tears were scarily close to spill as you tried to choke back your pain.

He groaned loudly. “I know. I fucked up. I made a mistake. And I’m so sorry for doing this to you, Y/N.”

This was too much for you. You couldn’t hold back your emotions anymore. Tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“You just left and I’ve never heard of you since. Not even a single word. Nothing.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. I reached out to you. Afterwards. But it was too late. When I came back to our house the first time after that day, you were gone. Every trace of you had vanished. An I tried to call, but I could never get through to you. And eventually I had to accept that I lost you.”

“Don’t put this on me! What did you expect Travis? That I’d wait around in our house hoping that maybe one day you’d return? That maybe it was all just some sick joke? You left me standing on our wedding day and you don’t get to blame me for trying to pick myself up again and start fresh.”

He stayed silent for a while. The guilt seemed to consume him. He abandoned the most important thing in his life and he knew that you had every right to hate him. He had no right to ask you for forgiveness and he knew that. But that didn’t meant that he wouldn’t at least try to mend the things he broke. You could hear him inhale sharply.

“I know that I hurt you. I fucked up, big time. And I’m painfully aware of it.” Even a complete stranger would have been able to identify the pained expression on Travis’ face. He was being completely honest with you. Not that it mattered though.

“Yeah, you did. You broke me Travis, you realise that, right?” He felt like someone shot a dagger through his heart. He knew he hurt you. Badly. But hearing you say it made it real. He would never be able to forgive himself. And you wouldn’t either, Travis was sure of that.

“I know Y/N, just tell me what I can do to make it better. Please, Y/N! I want to fix this. Fix us.”

He had tears in his eyes. You could see that he wanted to touch you, hug you, comfort you but he also knew that it wasn’t his place to do so anymore. It killed you to see him like that. So broken. How ironic. Both of you broken beyond repair.

“You can’t, Travis. This isn’t something you can fix.” You paused, thinking over your next words.

“You know I wish there was a evident reason, one that I knew back then. That you had some mistress, stopped loving me or something. But… I thought everything was fine. I thought we were great. I had no indication that something went wrong between us and I think this is why it hurts so much. One day everything seemed great and the next… everything was completely shattered.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. Quickly you turned around. You couldn’t do this. Standing across from him, talking to him, hearing his voice. All it did was remind you of the pain he put you through.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” He tried to reach out to you, catch your arms but you slipped out of his grip before he could get any closer. “Y/N!” But his pleads fell onto deaf ears. You’d already turned your back to him and were walking away as you heard him speak up again. It was quiet but you could hear it clear as day.

“I still love you Y/N! You have to know that. And I will never stop loving you, even if you hate me now.”

A quiet sob escaped your lips. This is why you wanted to stay as far away from his as possible. Nobody was able to hurt you like he did, even if he didn’t intent to. So you kept on walking.

When Travis left the park he caught a glimpse of you, sitting in Kevin’s car, seemingly hugging him. And although he knew that you had been honest with him when he asked you about Kevin, he couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jealous that someone else was the one comforting you now, when it used to be him who held you when you felt like you were falling apart. Jealous that someone else got to go to a Halloween party with you and dress up in stupid costumes. Jealous that someone else got to see you smile now.

Because this should have been him.

-----------

You were sitting on Nolan’s couch, trying to figure out how your life slipped from you, when you thought you had everything. You tried not to think back to that day, but every time you thought about Travis the memories just kept resurfacing. You couldn’t get his face off your mind, it almost seemed like his image had burned itself into your memory.

Someone ringing the doorbell ripped you from your thoughts.

“Are you expecting anyone?” He didn’t answer, he just gave you a quick headshake before making his way to the door. You didn’t want to eavesdrop but your curiosity took over. You felt yourself freeze as you recognized the voice at the door.

“I need to talk to you, Pat.” There was urgency in his voice, he sounded almost desperate.

You could Nolan calmly reply: “Now is not a good time, Travis.”

“But it’s important. Please.” It really must have been important, considering that Travis didn’t usually begged for someone’s attention like that.

“I.. I can’t, Teeks, I’m busy.“ You couldn’t see Nolan’s face but you could sense the uneasiness in his voice. And of course Travis had picked up on it to.

“You’re busy?... She’s here, isn’t she?” You couldn’t hear Nolan’s answer but the commotion coming from the hallway pretty much gave away that Travis knew that you were here. You could hear Nolan and Travis speaking over each other and moments later you could hear footsteps coming down the Hall. You could hear Nolan telling Travis that he needed to leave.

“I have to talk to her.” With that he appeared in the living room. “Y/N.” It was more breathed over his lips than actually spoken and it instantly send shivers down your spine.

“What are you doing here Travis?” You felt so little, sitting curled up on Nolan’s couch while he was standing in the entry of the living room.

“Can we talk? Again?” He seemed surprisingly calm. He was wearing a snapback and that yellow hoodie that you used to love so much. He used to radiate almost as much brightness as his hoodie, but now he constantly seemed as if someone dimmed his light. He looked tired, just as the other day.

“We have talked.” You tired to be as cold as possible, trying to shield you from the emotions that were rising inside of you.

“Yeah, and you ran away.” You sucked in air, trying to interject before he spoke up again but you came up empty.

“Please Y/N. And if you feel like it’s too much or you want me to leave I’ll leave, just let me at least try to explain.”

You wouldn’t get rid off him that quickly, so you took a deep breath before nodding.

You led him out of the living room towards Nolan’s bedroom. As much as you wanted Nolan by your side you knew that you needed to have this conversation in private.

Once the door was closed you looked at Travis expectantly. He seemed to be fighting for words.

“So? You wanted to talk. So talk.” You were being cold but you didn’t feel like standing in a room with Travis while the both off you stared at each other in silence. As if there wasn’t already enough tension between the two of you when you spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-“ You interrupted him. Was he really doing this again?

“Yeah, you already said that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“And I mean it. And you need to know that. I know that I hurt you. Badly. And there’s nothing that I regret more than walking away that day. I made a mistake and I ruined my life with it. And there’s not a day in my life where I don’t wish I could undo what I’ve done.”

“Well, you can’t Travis! Did they tell you that I tried to come after you? That I tried to track you down? Tried to find you and change your mind? Only to find out that you had packed a bag and already left the country? And then you flew to..”

Your voice broke, your eyes were teary and you felt like you could barely breathe. The guilt on his face made you feel nauseous.

“Why?! Why Travis, just tell me why you did it?” You sounded raspy, you barely recognized your own voice.

“You know why, Y/N.” “No, I don’t! You never bothered to tell me. YOU JUST LEFT, without a word!”

He took a step back in surprise, certainly not expecting this outburst from you.

“You read the letter, I didn’t know how to tell you in person.”

A humourless laugh came from your lips.

“I never read the letter. I burned it.” Your entire body was trembling now. You weren’t sure why though. Maybe you were nervous, anxious even or maybe it was the anger inside of you.

“You.. burned… the letter.” He was in such shock at your words he nearly seemed to swallow his own tongue. He stood frozen, unable to move even a single muscle. This was the last thing he expected you to admit to him.

“I just… I don’t get it, Travis! What have I ever done to you to deserve this? What did I do to you to have a reason to leave me standing at the altar?” Your voice softened, ”What happened, Trav?”

He looked like a fish out of water. He was still fighting for words, closing and opening his mouth. If you weren’t so hurt and angry you could have laughed at his expressions.

“I.. I don’t know Y/N. I just couldn’t do it.”

Anger started to rise up in your chest. God, you wanted to punch him. He’d always been a bad liar, you could smell his lies miles away.

“That’s bullshit Travis! We both know that, so stop lying to my face. You know how much I hate lying. You were able to write it in a letter but you can’t say it to my face?!” You tried to calm yourself. Take some deep breaths and steady your breathing. To no luck. Even Travis could see your trembling hands. You let out a shaky breath and kept going: “Was there someone else? Is that it?”

Your jaw clenches at that thought, you really didn’t think that Travis would ever cheat but who knows. You also didn’t think he would leave you on your wedding day but here you where. Apparently you didn’t knew him as well as you thought you did. He seemed absolutely frozen for a moment, too shocked at your accusation to answer. But his hesitation was leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No, Y/N! That’s not the reason-” “So what is it then? God Travis, just tell me. What on earth could have possibly been a reason to break off our engagement? Our relationship. Years spent together and without a warning you left.” You felt yourself starting to crack, a lump started to form in your throat and you knew that you would break soon enough. “ Did you just suddenly, one day to the next, stop loving me? Did you fall out of love? Was I just not good enough for you? What happened, Travis? Why did you leave me?” You weren’t even gonna try to hold back the tears streaming down your face. You just let them all out, sobs racked your body. The anger had left your body now and made way for the endless pain you felt when thinking about that day. You completely broke down in front of him

“Y/N…”

He knew that there was nothing he could say that would ease your pain. The damage was already done. You could feel Travis trying to reach out to you, but you pushed him away. You couldn’t see the expression on him face but if you did, you’d seen the agony that mirrored yours. When you let out a sorrowful quiet cry, he couldn’t compose himself anymore. He couldn’t watch you being in this much pain. He’d never hated himself more than in this moment. He knew that he was the reason for all this pain. So he fled the room.

Nolan stormed into the room only seconds later. Wrapping his body around his, as if he was trying to keep all the broken pieces together. And for what felt like eternity he just held you like that, at least you knew that he wasn’t going to let go of you.

“I think there was someone else, Nolan.” You broke the silence first, knowing that Nolan would give you as much time as you needed. The confused look Nolan gave you now, told you that he wasn’t exactly following what you were saying.

“That’s why he left. There was someone else. That-“ Nolan interrupted you before you could get another word out.

“This can’t be. Someone would have known. He would have told someone by now. I mean, did he admit that there was someone else?”

“Not technically, but he kinda hesitated when I brought it up. And he also didn’t actively deny it, so..”

Your voice started to cut out and you could feel the lump in your throat form. You were so sure of it now that you thought about it. His hesitation, the way he deflected the question. This had to be the reason. There was nothing else that could have been the reason.

“There was someone else, I just know it.”

Part 4

#travis konecny #travis konecny imagine #travis konecny x reader #travis konency fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #My writing

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐒.

Tw// eating disorder.

I was thinking of how I skip meals and stuff while studying, but still people could comment on how a certain way my body has gotten. So,,,yeah. Just wanted to write a blurb on that.

Eating meals thrice a day's fun thing, kiddos.

Harry's busy with album, well you with uni to the point you've no spare time to take care of yourself. You just wakes up giving a haste kiss to him, rush to university because you were studying all last night in the guest room not to disturb him knowing how half of limps he comes back from the studio. When you're back at home he's at the studio again and you straight away flops into your sheets without eating anything, then you again get up from your nap have a bit of snack and the routine goes on for irritatingly exhausting loop.

Else when Harry's not too busy in work he checks upon you while your nose's in books, he brings you snacks. green apples. your favourite chocolates. cack-buns. whatever he could steal from refrigerator. He clings to you until you don't end up taking a break pouting adorably, "what'd ye' do without me hu? starve yourself." So you always end up giving in.

When he becomes your tutor for the mean time and it all has one ending; that's him quenching out many orgasms from you while you thrash in his lap, him fuckin' you raw because he has missed your warmth too passion, him teasing you not letting you focus on what you're studying. That's the worst one from all of the above because when he does that he doesn't stop and it drives you insane.

When sometimes you're too stubborn he grabs you by ankles making you squeal in amusement and throws you on his shoulder to drag you to the nearest diner and swear you look like panda wearing his tattered t-shirt and pyjamas.

He doesn't let you sit in another room and study alone, whining that he couldn't sleep without you in his arms and he used to sleep on you listening to the buzz of whatever you were reading, cheek smashed against your tummy arms coiled around your waist.

That indeed caused you weakened eyesight from focusing under the night lamp. But, you loved it how he always tried to make you stick to him now he couldn't you miss him and his care.

Dinners long forgotten. In breakfast you eat cereal in the same bowl Harry did moments ago before leaving you have time for nothing, and in lunch you fill your system with cold coffees.

Now. You were free after your exams hanging out with your classfellows for few hours before going home and seep into your sheets for two damn days.

"Looks like you gained weight, during this semester." One of your classmates told you with a weird pull of her brows and you chuckled nervously not knowing what to say, the plastic cup of cold mocha in your hand getting sweaty.

"Pfft. She looks fine. This one was hectic for all of us. Y/n you look great." There's a huge lie under it because you look sodden and emotionally traumatised, you know it people don't need to butter things up for you.

You excused yourself from the hangout. You looked at delcious mocha with watering mouth and yearning gaze but you gave it to the homeless little girl in your way considered how many carbs it contains.

You rambled to yourself. Muttering under your breath what you'd have said to her. 'Maybe beacuse I'm happy and when you're happy your heart makes more blood. Maybe I'm hanging out with my friends more often eating to my fullest and maybe I enjoy having late night snacks with my boyfriend.'

But you were doing none of that so you couldn't have said that to her.

When you stepped inside your home it was smelling appetizing, again watering your mouth and making your stomach growl loudly.

When you padded inside Harry was making pasta for you in the kitchen singing a melody to himself most probably of his album. He's glowing from hanging out with his friends, writing songs, and singing them whole day at studio but you're not you feel miserable.

At some point you had thought of dropping out and end this shit for real but looking forward to Harry. How he faces every hardship and never gives up, you did not too. You're always gonna idolise him.

Harry notices your presence and he wide spreads his arms for you to just cuddle into him. Wooden spatula in his hand and he grins brightly at you, "c'mere puppy. made pasta fo' m'girl." You didn't felt like eating it. Not because you're not hungry. You're fucking starving but your stomach has gotten accustomed to be empty all the time that it's feeling like a mission to fill it.

"M'not hungry. Had lunch already." You muttered lying to him walking past him to your shared room and his brows rocketed to his forehead surprised that you didn't fled in his arms as you usually do, not even a peck on his cheek, not an appreciation that you'd eat it after your nap.

You're a bit cranky, stressed and all over the place. You don't want to take it all out in him because you know you'd say mean things just as "I missed you so much, but all you cared was to enjoy yourself with your friends and make songs with them." . "Duh. Only if I could be a singer who doesn't needs to do anything." Or "you didn't once checked upon me." Because you know that would be your nonsensical words but it would really hurt him.

Not changing into comfortable clothes you dived into your sheets sleeping on your stomach. Harry felt alone and sad even though you guys aren't being that close for months despite of some quick sex in shower and when you or him badly needs a release.

He didn't even touched his home made pasta putting it in container and storing it into fridge. His ears perked up at your moans, only realizing that those were moans of pain. You were groaning in your sleep from the headache and cold sweat breaking all over you, you're feeling nauseous even in your sleep too.

Harry was by your side resting his hand atop your shoulder and he found you bathed into sweat, pulling his bottom lip he frowned running his thumb in circles at the nape of your neck.

It's so unlike of you. To not change and brush your hair before going to bed. He turned you around, "shh. sh. baby 's me Harry." He whispered when you whimpered snuggling your face to his folded thigh and tucking your hands in between your own thighs like a sandwich.

He stroked your blazed flushed cheeks with the back of his index finger. Taking in the slightest of features that looks worn out, he really missed you and he kinda feels bad that he got so engulfed into everything that he forgot to check if you're okay.

He pecked your lips removing duvet from over you changing your clothes only leaving you in your panties and your favourite rolling stone shirt of his's. He massaged your soles and ankles a timid smile creeping at his lips at the memory how he used to give you head and back massages. He missed being by your side too.

It was past midnight and you were still into deep sleep. Concerned Harry gently tapped your shoulders kissing your forehead, "bubba. wake up darlin' you haven't eaten anything." Only if Harry knew how it has become a routine.

You woke up with little yawns and cute rubs of eyes making your Harry giggle and shower you in his loud wet kisses. The storm had yet to come. When your eyes fell over your clothes anxiety ignited in all of your body and you pushed him not even glimpesing at the awfully hurt eyes he got after that.

You quickly covered yourself with duvet with wide eyes stuttering, "why did you changed my clothes." You don't want him to look at you when you're so out of shape and not feeling physically appreciative in yourself even though you're exactly how you were before.

This's what happens when someone puts the seed of insecurities inside you.

Harry did what he has been doing the whole day, frowned in confusion he doesn't want to think you're done with him and doesn't loves him anymore but it's flickering through his mind.

"M'sorry, jus' thought that I always used to change you. You wouldn't mind." At this you strewned your lip inside not to cry at your situation how do you tell him what you're feeling?

He fumbled with his rings. Shaking your head you stood up but a train of dizziness making you knock your knees with the beds foot and Harry was on his feet wrapping you in his arms.

"You need to eat. m'not takin' any excuses. When was the last time you ate?" He was furious at you. He doesn't care if you push him this time too. He loves you too much to let you ruin your health like this. When even you forgot that what was the last time you ate a proper meal He shook his head in exasperation.

The door to ensuite bathroom was open wide as he sat a tray of pasta and two plates infront of you, his head craned in your direction as you examined yourself in the bright lit mirror.

Pinching your slightest pouch then turning a little to have a proper look of yourself. Harry didn't said anything he just observed you joining the dots clearing his throat, "come to me, pet." He made space for you and you tried to give him a smile that came out wavering.

Eating in silence. After, so much time it feels like eating a proper meal's a blessing but you couldn't eat much giving it to Harry and he took it from you kissing your head.

"Sorry." You mumbled and he stood taking the trays with himself raising his finger in air gesturing you to wait.

He waddled back not thinking twice and taking you in his arms, burying his nose into your hair as you did into his sweater cuddling closer to him.

"I know you're not feelin' good. Bad days happens with all of us." His lips lingered over your hair and he's missing the usual smell of your shampoo. He smoothed down your arms and it's the proper cuddle you're sharing after so long.

"Whateva' goin' with you tell me whenev' you're ready." His finger tucks under your chin thumb circling over your softest skin.

You just wanted to let it all out but decided against it thinking you're gonna get back to normal and everything would be okay.

Sensing your hesitation just from the beats of your heart he reminded you looking you straight in your eyes, "remember. I'm gonna love you forever and always. Whateva' it takes for m'body to."

You nodded giving a chaste kiss to his lips and both of your eyes fluttered at that warmth, his fingers dipping into your hips.

Next day you were way better. Hanging out with Harry's bestest friend at café near your home, Harry has his arm slinged around your shoulder keeping you close to him as he talked joyously.

"What would you like to eat bunny? Brownie?" He asked you knowing how much you love brownies. If anyone wants to have their way to your heart it's always brownies and chocolates.

When you first started dating Harry, he knew how much you loved chocolates so he would bring a box of different chocolates with one tulip everytime he used to visit you. He used to fed those delights to you (with a kiss in return of each) so much that you had a sugar crash once which isn't your proudest moment.

You shook your head at which his friend quips, "ooooh dieting miss?" Then that same damn insecurity came back rushing to you and when you looked down then to her asking her innocently Harry's heart broke into millions pieces, realization dawning on him with a jab.

"Do you think I need to diet?" She shakes her head vigorously trying to make you understand that her intention wasn't to make you feel bad, "hey no. you're perfectly healthy I was just teasing you." You nod at her with a little "oh." and after that Harry felt you zoning out away from him emotionally.

At home on your bed while Harry rummaged through drawers for your favourite sushi socks you pondered over everything quietly, it's frustrating him. Your silence's killing him. He wants his bubbly bunny back who used to hop in excitement, who used to crack boomer jokes with him, who used to eat brownies and chocolates like it's her last sweetness.

"Bunny..." He gave a squeeze to your ankle after slipping your feet into warm socks, "talk t' me yeah? 'S killin' me." You sapped your teeth into your lower lip.

"It's been hard Harry. Very very hard." He cradles your jaw and you continued, "my head used to ache so bad while studying, eyes used to sting and I stopped eating anything...." Tears bearing at your eyeline and Harry scoots closer to you. He feels awful.

".....n' and you weren't there. I missed you so much you know...wanted to sleep in your arms after a long day...." You were full on sobbing now and Harry's own lip wobbled he can't see you crying especially when he's the reason.

"M' s' sorry baby. Such a dickhead I'm." He wipes your tears with his hands lost inside you hair and thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

"Then again people had to throw it on my face that I've gained extra fats—" Harry grunted at this nose flaring, "who the fuck told ya—oh my god." His eyes enlarging and he felt so fucking remorseful that this's what you were insecure of from days.

"Listen to me y/n. You're exactly like how you were baby. Except more beautiful. Don't let any man, any woman to tell you that you're not. Don't let 'em hurt ye' bunny." He pulled you in his lap kissing your cheeks as you cried into his shoulder and he let you because you need it.

"Never hide your body from me bubba. You know that I worship it with my whole heart." He murmured and now you're full on crying with breath hitching, hiccuping like an innocent baby.

"M' an' awful person." He protested knuckles feathering your jaw, "no you're not."

"Yes I'm. You love me so much and–and I wanted to say mean hurtful things to you." You huffed at him when he smiled musingly, "because I was the one never giving my all lovin" to you how you deserve in the very first place. No' made sure you were eatin' properly or not, you know how worried I got findin' you practically drenched with sweat in bed that day? It was because of your low blood pressure."

He squeezes you in his arms, sponging light kisses at the side of your neck while you closed your eyes and he slipped his hand under your shirt tickling you hooking his thumb in your belly button.

"I'll love your soul in every body." His affectionate words soon turned into cheeky ones, "anddd yeh' know how much I like pregnant women."

You giggled at him smacking his shoulder but he captured it interlacing your fingers kissing the gap of your each knuckle.

That night. You guys made dinner together eating it with a big smile and gratefully for Harry you licked your plate clean.

"Sweets?" You asked him with a lowered gaze and a tilt of your head. He tapped his lips teasingly straddling you over his thigh and a moan fused into warm air when your lips slotted into perfect missing puzzles.

He admired. Sipped. Adored every inch of you tasting your mouth while his fingers kissed the dip of your waist and thighs.

"Hmm. Close your eyes open your mouth." He pecked your lips placing his thumb over your tongue and you obeyed closing your eyes shut.

Soon his thumb was replaced with dark sweetness and you instantly got on what he has done, immediately opening your eyes chewing the chocolate. Tangerine bursting on your tongue as the chocolate cracked open.

"Such a cute little mouth chews just like a bunny." He moans against your lips swiping at the hint of chocolate on your lower lip and you mumbled an appreciative 'thank you.' to him which was soon captured by his own mouth in the form of passionate kiss.

P.s: I freakin' love chocolates and this whole situation I wrote it on me because I know I've alot of people struggling through the same difficulty the thing's we've to be our own Harry.

#harry styles #cute harry #harry styles blurb #harry smut #fluff #dom harry #harry styles smut #harry angst #hsh #harrystyles smut #harry #angst with a happy ending #harry x reader #eating disoder things

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spookyboywhump · 3 years

Text

Overheating

Alright so I really wanted to write smth with This so thank you @unicornscotty <3

I know it’s the fourth but I really wanted to participate in the @summer-of-whump event but I didn’t have the time until today so technically this is also for the day one prompt “overheating” (fun fact: originally I had a piece with Wren planned for this)

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, locked outside, emeto mention, drowning mention, heat exhaustion

***

He woke up when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and dragged off his bed, roughly pushed to the floor. He was disoriented, squinting up at Cain from where he laid. His owner looked irritated, apparently still upset over the fight Zander lost the night before. He should’ve been expecting this, seeing as Cain hadn’t punished him immediately after getting home.

“Fucking hell… good morning to you too.” He muttered sarcastically, while Cain jabbed him in the side with the tip of his shoe, Zander wincing as he dug into one of the bruises.

“Get up.” He ordered, and Zander sighed, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. He was too exhausted, too sore to fight with him. He figured he may as well just accept his punishment and get it over with. “Hands behind your back.”

“Sure thing, officer.” He snickered, doing as he was told though, only for Cain to quickly cuff his wrists together. Zander followed him from the room, mentally preparing himself for a beating, a whipping, caning, drowning, anything like that, but instead, Cain led him out back.

Now that he was outside he realized it was early in the morning, around the time Cain usually left for work. He sighed heavily, realizing that it was going to be another day locked outside, but instead of dragging him out into the yard, he was made to kneel on part of the patio- specifically, the part that wasn’t covered. Cain had clearly already prepared this punishment, a chain locked around one of the nearest posts, which was grabbed and clipped to his collar. It was just long enough that he could lean forward, but he couldn’t have moved from that spot, even trying to move into the shade was impossible for him.

“You’ll spend today out here. If I’m in a better mood, I might let you in when I get home.” He said, and Zander jerked away when he tried to ruffle his hair. Cain started to head inside after that, pausing to add, “Oh, and by the way mutt- I’m working late today.” He said, Zander glaring when he flashed a smile at him before heading inside, the doors slamming shut and locking behind him.

Zander tried to tell himself this wasn’t that bad. He’d been left outside before, sometimes for days at a time, he could handle it. He wasn’t happy, but he could handle it, in fact, he considered it better than a beating. He was bored, of course, but by now he was used to boredom. He didn’t think it would be a problem at all, but as time passed and the day went on, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

It was the middle of summer, and while it wasn’t so bad early in the morning, the temperature continued to climb higher and higher. He was used to being tied in the yard, on the cool grass, with a chain long enough he could move into the shade of the trees. He was trapped here though, the sun beating down on him as he knelt on hot concrete. He regretted falling asleep wearing shorts, even if it would’ve been hotter at least pants would’ve provided some protection from the burning heat that had him constantly shifting uncomfortably.

He didn’t normally hate the heat very much. He was used to it, he used to enjoy being out on a sweltering day, but back then he’d usually end up at a friend’s pool or down at the lake, anything to cool off. He would’ve killed for even a drop of cold water, done anything to be submerged in it. His hair and his clothes stuck to his skin, sweat beading on his forehead, the back of his neck, he couldn’t even really wipe it away thanks to his hands being restrained. He winced as sweat stung open scratches from the night before, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a slow, deep breath.

He could handle discomfort. He was always uncomfortable. Hours went by and discomfort had given way to sickness though, somehow nauseous despite the fact he hadn’t even gotten to eat that day. He was doubled over as much as he could, trying to ignore the stomach pain and the sick feeling, but it was difficult when there was nothing else he could focus on.

“Fucking Cain.” He muttered to himself, attempting to talk himself through this. “Fuck him, fucking idiot. Can’t fucking believe this…” He winced, his stomach in knots at this point. “It’s fine… it’s just the sun… fuck, if I get a sunburn I’m gonna be pissed… I hope his stupid ass gets a sunburn, pale fucking vampire looking-“ He was forcibly cut off, dry heaving as the nausea got worse and worse.

By late in the afternoon he felt weak, even more exhausted than he had been that morning. His legs hurt, there was no position that was comfortable as the concrete burned his feet and legs. He hated to admit how much he cried, when he finally couldn’t take it any longer, but he couldn’t even cry for long, as though he were too dehydrated to manage even that. He kept his eyes shut as much as he could, his head was pounding and the bright sunlight wasn’t helping at all.

By the time the back doors opened again, Zander was blinking in and out of consciousness. It was sometime in the evening by then, but it was still warm out, too warm for Zander after enduring the whole day like that. He didn’t actually recognize that Cain was back until he was standing directly in front of him- something held in his hands too.

“Hey, you look like shit.” He snickered, and Zander couldn’t do much more than attempt to glare at him. He didn’t even want to know how he looked right now, likely drenched in sweat, red in his already bruised face. He was taking slow, deep breaths, he’d been fighting against the urge to vomit all day. He set down something in front of him, a bright red dog bowl, which was filled with water. “Go ahead boy, I’m sure you’re thirsty.” He told him, and it took Zander a moment to realize what he was saying.

Am I really this fucking desperate?

His mouth was so dry it was difficult for him to swallow. His throat hurt, he was hardly even capable of keeping himself awake right now, so exhausted and dizzy he couldn’t even really think straight. He hadn’t had anything to drink that day, and no matter the circumstances, this was water being offered right in front of him.

Fucking whatever, dignity be damned.

He abruptly lurched forward, desperate for it after all this time, only to gag as the chain stopped him, only inches from the water but just out of reach. He whined pathetically, he pulled against the chain despite the fact he couldn’t breath and it was showing no signs in breaking, but there was nothing he could do except sit there, and listen to Cain laugh- something that very, very quickly set him off.

“Fucking Bastard- really?!” He shouted. “Fuck you! Fucking let me go!” He growled, using all his energy just to yell at cain. “Stop fucking laughing, it’s not fucking funny!”

“No, it’s hilarious!” Cain laughed. “You’re such a desperate son of a bitch, huh? Would you really drink from a bowl like the dog you fucking are?”

“I would if you weren’t such an asshole! I don’t give a shit, just give me something!” He cried, just short of begging him. Cain was still laughing, but he nudged the bowl closer to him and Zander really did disregard any desire he’d had to avoid this, doing his best to drink from the bowl without his hands. The humiliation was absolutely nothing compared to the relief he felt, he’d never tasted anything better than that water tasted now. He drank as much as he could, as fast as he could to avoid having it taken away, but eventually Cain did take the bowl from him, then he unclipped the chain from his collar.

He tried to get up but he only just now realized how weak he was, collapsing almost immediately. Cain had to actually help him back into the house, his legs were trembling violently and he swore the room was moving side to side. Cain made a face since he was close enough to smell him after a day of sweating under the summer sun, if anything Zander counted that as some sort of victory on his end. He didn’t seem to realize anything was actually wrong with him though, he was dragged to his room and shoved to the floor, where he laid as he was locked into that cell again.

It took a long time for him to move. He couldn’t walk, he had to drag himself into the bathroom and turn on the shower to cold water, his hands shaking as he peeled his clothes off, sitting on the shower floor and breathing a sigh of relief as the cold water poured over him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, and he winced as the water hit the fresh burns on his legs, worse than he thought they would be. He wasn’t even sure if he had anything in his supplies meant for burns, but he figured he could work with what he had, he’d always done so before.

He didn’t expect to pass out in the shower. One moment he was tiredly looking at the back of his hand, at his bruised knuckles, and the next he was waking up slumped against the wall, cold and shivering now that he’d been in there long enough. He didn’t know how long that had actually been, but he finally was able to turn the water off and struggle to his feet, able to keep himself upright long enough to dry off and get dressed. He wanted to go pass out in his bed but just the thought of the mattress and the blanket made him feel hot, he wasn’t entirely thinking straight when he laid down on the bathroom floor, but he found he didn’t regret it one bit, finding relief in the cool tiles against his skin.

He wasn’t thinking entirely clearly, his thoughts still clouded with confusion, but he knew one thing for certain- With how angry he had been over his little “joke”, Cain was lucky Zander had been restrained.

#whump #my writing #my oc’s #zander #Cain #pet whump #dehumanization #heat exhaustion #summerofwhump #summerofwhump1

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kodzumie-archived · 3 years

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can you do some yandere!mikan nsfw hcs?

❝YANDERE! NSFW❞

Synopsis; Yandere Mikan certainly is a freaky one, isn’t she?

Featuring; Mikan Tsumiki x GN! Reader

Warning(s); Yandere themes, nonconsensual somnophilia, drugging, manipulation, blood (taking of blood samples), blood kink, consumption of blood, cum eating, mentions of piss (watersports), masturbation, use of sex toys, mentions of needles, and intentional misuse of medical supplies. (Things do get pretty fucked and gross, please pay attention to the warnings!)

Kodzumie’s Note; Absolutely! Thanks for your request, and I hope you’re doing well. Muah! <3

➤ MIKAN TSUMIKI

⤷ She’s calculating and rapacious; plotting all the ways she can get you to succumb to her. She practically thrives in the vulnerability you’ve unknowingly put upon yourself due to the blind trust you’ve put in her.

⤷ As hopelessly in love as she was, Mikan was aware; she knew that it was far too soon and sudden to formally ask you to engage in such bare intimacy with her. She was also aware of the possibility that you wouldn’t even want to do something so lewd with her.

⤷ But she can’t help herself. So much has been taken from her by those who’ve recognized her weaknesses, her bullies taking anything and everything as she’s unable to do a thing. Isn’t it only right that she’s a little selfish?

⤷ It’s not like you’d mind, of course. You can’t mind something if you don’t even know it’s happening, right?

⤷ Mikan’s desires surge through her with insuppressible fervor. Yet she wouldn’t dare do something so reckless; she wouldn’t dare run the risk of tarnishing your treasured friendship.

⤷ So she covers her tracks. She takes full advantage of your trust within her as a friend and the faith you’ve put within her talents as a nurse. A common tactic she’s picked up is replacing the sugar within your tea—which she orders you to drink to retain good health—with a finely powdered drug; their appearances akin with only a minuscule difference.

⤷ After drinking, you’ll subconsciously succumb to the effects of the drug within fifteen minutes, and then she’ll begin her ministrations; pampering your unconscious body and exploring your most intimate realms.

⤷ A hidden utopia reserved for only the eyes of those you’ve allowed seeing you so bare; so exposed. And, even if you hadn’t known it, Mikan was those eyes. Peering down at you so sickeningly gleefully as she thinks to herself; Your body, sprawled beneath her, was all for her.

⤷ As you’re knocked out, there isn’t an inch of skin she doesn’t smother in sloppy, wet kisses. Her breathing rapid and crazed.

⤷ She savors each moment; relishing in your taste as she sears the memory of every sensation into her core memories. She will never allow herself to forget the blissful oasis of her beloved’s body.

⤷ At first, you’d only assumed that your state of fatigue and extreme exhaustion were the aftermaths of stress. It was understandable; that week had been your finals week.

⤷ And yet, it kept happening; moments where you feel fine, but then you’ll experience powerful waves of nausea before slipping unconscious. So much so, that you asked Mikan about it, of course. She was the Ultimate Nurse, after all.

⤷ Just like you expected, she managed to deduce the possible reasonings behind your experiences. Even going as far as to pinpoint habits that are a common occurrence before you fall into such a vertiginous state.

⤷ “W-Well, typically it’s when you’ve consumed a beverage with sugar.” She deducted, a thoughtful visage as her soft features sharpened with determination. “If I remember right, you’d felt particularly nauseous after you drank tea with sugar that one time.”

⤷ “That can’t be a coincidence though! It happened another time too. Remember when I gave you those sugar cookies? You fell unconscious from those too...” She ponders, her bottom lip jutting out in thought. Your eyes widen as the dots connect internally. That is true, all the instances had been induced as you’d consumed anything with sugar.

⤷ “If you’d like—“ Mikan’s voice cuts out as she nervously squirms under your curious gaze, her hesitant nature bringing a smile to your lips. “Take your time.” You assure her, placing your hand over hers to, hopefully, calm her nerves. If only you knew what you did to her and her poor little heart.

⤷ “W-Well I just thought that if I took some blood samples, I-I could confirm my suspicions!” She exclaims, cheeks flushed as her gaze remained fixated on your hand atop her own.

⤷ Your eyes widen once more as they glimmer with surprise and appreciation. “Would you really do that for me?!” She’s taken aback by your exclamation, accidentally tearing her hand from yours as she falls backs.

⤷ But she’s quick to recover, smile faltering at the lost connection of your hand with hers. “Of course!” She confesses.

⤷ And that’s how it began, her odd secondary obsession. Behind you, of course.

⤷ You hadn’t given her suggestions much thought other than that you trust Mikan, and what she was doing was simply what’s best for you. This was her talent, her field. If you couldn’t trust her with what she did best, who could you possibly trust?

⤷ So she began taking samples of your blood. At first, it was only a weekly thing. Once a week, she’d draw out enough blood to fill a miniature capsule and examine it to determine the underlying causes for your sudden fits of falling unconscious. Though she was more than aware of the true reason.

⤷ For each blood sample she took, she returned to you with the discovery that the amount of glucose within your blood was alarmingly high, and that her hypothesis was, in fact, correct.

⤷ But that’s all lies. Lies, lies, lies that you oh-so-helplessly believe. Mikan’s the nurse, she knows best. Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best!

⤷ Regardless, you believed her. And you provided her the weekly blood samples as she instructed. Though it was a bit tedious to have the pricking of a needle within your arm so often, it was better than randomly passing out at the most unfortunate of times.

⤷ Once she collected the capsules, she informed you that she’d take them back to her house where she can perform more thorough research. Since all of her equipment is there, of course!

⤷ You don’t question it. Not even as you wonder what she’d done with the capsules after weeks of no word of them. Surely she threw them away. You shouldn’t question her, you trust her, after all!

⤷ If only you’d questioned her. If only you’d taken the second to doubt her; debunk your trust in her. Perhaps then you’d have realized the red flags within everything.

⤷ Within the confines of her bedroom, Mikan’s moans are barely concealed as she unscrews the capsule filled with the familiar crimson liquid; your blood.

⤷ Her mind fuzzy with idea of her possessing such a fluid. Your fluid, of all things. Her obsession fueled further as she coats her fingers in the viscous liquid. It was still warm, still so fresh from within you. The thought of how this blood was once within your body sends jolts of depraved pleasure down her spine.

⤷ She lathers the blood around her fingers, savoring the sensation. A shaky sigh of ecstasy escaping her lips as she stutters out a moan. Everything was so overwhelming at that moment. She was in disbelief, yet oh-so alarmingly aware. This was your blood. This was your blood.

⤷ “Ha...Aha!” A delirious moan escaping her lips as she swirls her blood-coated fingers over her clit. The stimulation paired with the searing reminder that it was your blood beginning to smear over her clit instantly sent tremors through her legs.

⤷ The pleasure felt so intense; so very intense. Even as she has pumps two fingers into her pussy, stretching herself out as your blood coats her walls, it all felt so intense. Almost unbearable. The feeling of your blood within her driving her to the brink of insanity as if she hadn’t already plunged into the abyss of madness.

⤷ Yet even as her fingers continued to plunge into her sopping cunt—her slick blending with your blood—she couldn’t help but yearn for more. She wanted to have your blood coat her walls entirely. And her petite fingers simply wouldn’t do.

⤷ Thankfully, she has just the thing. Within her hands she cradles a dildo, having already removed her two digits from her cunt as she eagerly drags her fist down the girth of the toy. It’s lengthy. Good.

⤷ She grabs the previously discarded capsule which still witheld blood. Perfect; everything was perfect.

⤷ Mikan tilted the small bottle, drizzling the viscous crimson fluid as it glazed over the dildo, painting its pink exterior in a contrasting red.

⤷ As the bottle emptied, the last of your blood poured onto the toy, an eerie giggle escaped Mikan’s lips. Her eyes swirling with psychotic euphoria as she pumped the blood upon the length of the dildo. Successfully smearing the blood all over the toy, not a trace left untouched.

⤷ Her breathing turned erratic. Huffs of air forced from her lungs as she sunk onto the blood-coated toy. It stung; the stretch searing through her senses as she gasped, squiriming in discomfort. And yet, it felt so damn good.

⤷ Your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her, your blood was inside her—

⤷ The idea driving her mad as she bounced, squelching air bubbles caused by the drool of her pussy mixed with the blood, arousal poisoning the air as she released an unsettling laugh, moaning mid-way through.

⤷ This was it. This was true happiness! To be filled with your fluids, no matter what they made be. Stuffing her pussy full of you and anything reminescent of you. This was true ecstasy.

⤷ The blood upon the tip of the dildo nuzzling against her cervix—painfully—yet smearing your blood deep within her.

⤷ It’s painful. Her thighs ache as she bounces, yet she craves the stimulation; the pleasure. It’s so overwhelming she trembles, shaking until she’s attempting to squirm and retreat from the toy as her orgasm begins to bubble within her stomach, ready to boil over.

⤷ And so, the string snaps; her climax washing over her with violent shudders and breathless sobs. Her cum oozing around the base of the dildo as the length remains snuggled within her clenching pussy.

⤷ Mikan breathes heavily, shifting her weight to ease her knees as she moans. Every movement forced a jolt down her spine, her cunt throbbing with sensitivity.

⤷ Her fingers delicately brush over her stretched slit, toy still buried within her as she dabs her digit in the mess, coating her fingers in her cum mixed with your blood.

⤷ It was a rosy hue; the translucent, milky white of her orgasm and your deep vermillion blood mixed together. The dew an embodiment of the connection you and her shared; your shared fluids mixed into an addictive concoction.

⤷ Mikan brings her fingers to her lips, sucking on the mixture as she licks her digits clean. It tastes so good; it tastes like love. It tastes precisely like the bond you two shared, a bittersweet cocktail.

⤷ And as she layed spewing your combined mixture of love—an unknowing commitment and the blossoming of yet another depraved addiction—she couldn’t help but grin. She couldn’t wait for how many more times she’d pleasure herself with your fluids.

⤷ What more could she take from you? What more could she use to satisfy her needs, yet keeping a piece of you with her? She wanted more. She needed more. But she knew better than to be impatient.

⤷ One day, you’ll willingly engage in such ludicrous acts with her. One day, you’ll provide her with whichever fluid she selects; blood, cum, spit. Hell, she’d even accept your piss. She just wanted more of you, you, you!

⤷ She’ll wait. She’d wait a millenial for you; lifetimes. If it’s for you, she’ll do anything and everything. But for now, she’ll settle on waiting; waiting as your blood coats the valleys of her pussy’s walls. If she can’t get you, she’ll get the next best thing.

#yandere #tw yandere #sdr2 x reader #dr2 x reader #mikan x reader #mikan tsumiki x reader #danganronpa x reader #mikan hcs #mikan headcanons #mikan imagines #danganronpa hcs #danganronpa scenarios #danganronpa imagines

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