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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

request: sometimes time likes to be alone underwater. with his iron boots and zora helmet, it's easy to just take a stroll at the bottom of a deep enough lake, away from the rest of the world. he did not expect, however, to find legend relaxing inside a small hole in the stone. Mer Legend.

Oh boy! I was vibing with this one for a while, I just wanted to make it perfect!

I'm pretty happy with what I made too, but man is it long!

(I hope this makes you happy, anon!)

When he and Malon have kids, he hopes they don't have this many.

Nayru knows he loves his boys, but they can get a bit much sometimes. They can get loud and overwhelming, and as a man who’s used to traveling primarily alone, with maybe a fairy trailing behind him or his trusted mount, it’s a bit overwhelming. He’s not used to being around people so much, Malon and Talon are his only consistent company and even then, the work they share means that often times it’s only him and his thoughts as he mucks, mends and tends things around the ranch.

Sometimes, when the boys get especially rowdy and playful, it’s just nice to get a moment of quiet to himself. Between Sky and Twilight he knows that nothing overly chaotic will go down, and he trusts the boys to keep each other in check.

So, when they come to the Pup’s Hyrule, their battle in this world over and most of their number restless as they wait for the next portal to arrive and whisk them away, Time allows his boys their space, and with a quick exchange with the only two he can trust to not burn something down (at least while the younger ones can still see them) he heads off into the forest to get a little space to himself.

Of course, he can’t really go far, not if he needs to hurry back, but he doesn’t really need to. His destination is Lake Hylia, which is only a short distance from their camp, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, and, when he gets there, he allows himself to actually breathe for once.

Wild, Warriors and Wind had been locked in a game of cards when last he left, the champion soundly beating the other two both at cribbage while Wars bemoans his poor luck, and Twilight and Sky were discussing wood carving with Hyrule, with the occasional comment from the smithy, who is only too happy to throw in something related every so often as he looks up from his book. That leaves himself and Legend, and he’s long since learned that the vet was one to disappear for his own space when possible.

He’s not overly worried. Legend has items and experience that far outmatch most of their group, and if he runs into trouble Time has little doubt that he’ll be able to get himself out of it to at least gather reinforcements, if not handle the issue by himself.

A deep breath of relief escapes him as the eldest of the heroes pulls a few items from his own bag. The boots are a familiar if not welcome weight as he slips out of his armor and dons the tunic and cap of the Zora, his breath bubbling softly as he steps into the lake before him with a contented sigh.

The cool water floods over the top of him, tugging at his hair and bubbling in his lungs, but it’s doesn’t burn the way that it should. He breathes easily beneath the rippling surface of Lake Hylia, the Zora tunic granting him freedom beneath the waves.

There is little sound beneath, only the muffled noise from above the surface, the flow of the water and-

Time’s ears prick forwards as a single blue eye turns to search the space around him.

Someone is singing.

It’s a haunting sort of melody, one that draws you in and makes you dazed, and Time finds himself stumbling over his own feet as he searches for the source. It is not a Cursed song, nor anything powerful from what he can recall, in fact, it’s almost familiar. It sounds similar to something he hears hummed about their camp at night while the boys take watch. He’d never been able to place which of the young heroes hummed the lilting melody, but he’s let it carry him off to sleep many a time before. Only this song, the one that twines about his head and whispers in his ears and makes his feet trek closer and closer to its source, this song is different, it’s haunted and Broken, and it is sung in a Voice.

Not a voice like most of those above the surface have, but a Voice like a fairy or spirit might have. One that pulls at your very soul and sings in your mind, un-hampered by wind or waves, able to carry across miles to be heard by those that it Sings too.

Heavy feet trod faster.

He’s under no spell, but he is a Link, and by now he has learned that all of their kind are blessed or cursed with courage and curiosity both, and to be without the latter is simply unthinkable for the young-at-heart hero. Something –the forest imp in him maybe- tells him to find the Voice, find the Singer.

He’s only made it part of the way across the lake, hasn’t even left the shoreline properly, when the song stops. Unease creeps over him as he looks around, alert and ready for trouble, only to see nothing but the peaceful stillness of the lake bottom around him.

There! His mind supplies as something pink flits in the corner of his vision, and he’s whipping around to come face to face with-

Long tangled hair drifts in the waves as glistening scales reflect the light pouring down through the waves. Too deep, too dark eyes stare at him in shock for a brief moment, and then-

The creature, the thing, is gone in an instant. Whipping away as it’s glimmer fades into the waves around him, speed no doubt granted by the brilliant tail of the thing sending it rocketing out of his grasp before he even has a chance to speak.

He tried to follow it. He does! But quite soon the adult part of his mind is reminding him how dangerous the thing could be, and that he still has his boys to return to back on the surface. It’s been exactly thirty-two minutes and thirteen seconds since he left them at their camp, and by now they usually would have sent someone to check and make sure that whatever member of their party had strayed off was alright.

Removing his boots is all it takes to float to the surface, despite the fact that he still holds the things in his hands, and it’s with no small amount of relief that he realizes that the bank of the lake is free of other heroes.

Time gathers his things together, wringing out his hair and clothes before returning to his normal gear and heading back to the camp.

Smiles and chuckles greet him as the young heroes tease.

“Go for a swim, Old Man?” Legend quirks a brow, staring up from his place by the fire.

Time doesn’t answer him, but he does shake his head violently enough to spray the younger heroes with water, earning shouts and shrieks from them as they try and shield themselves from the wet. “Seriously, Time?” Warriors moans, wiping lake water from his face. “What are you, a dog?”

Time smirks at the captain and, to everyone's surprise (which produces no small amount of delight for him), he barks.

“What sorts of people have you met in your adventures?” Sky asks a couple of days later, head cocked to the side as he watches his brothers. “You all talk about so many races, but I don’t think I've heard of most of them.”

“Well,” Wild smiles, there’s a glint in his gaze that isn’t quite mischief, but it’s a warning to be wary anyway, because they all know what a crack-pot their cook can be at times. “There’s Hylians, of course, and Sheikah, Yiga, Gerudo, Rito, Gorons, Zora and koroks! You’ve probably already met the Sheikah, since you mentioned knowing an Impa during your journey, and the Yiga are an offshoot of that group.”

Twilight blinks and stares, Warriors furrowing his brow as he two older heroes stare at the younger, but Wild seem entirely unaffected.

“Gerudo are a desert people. They’re really tall, and extremely strong! Most of their race have long red hair and slightly darker skin than the people around Hyrule. They are a society of all woman, with only one man being born to them every hundred years. They worship the goddess Din for the most part, and live out of an opulent city set in the desert where they specialize in the crafting of weapons and jewelry, and the farming of exotic plants.” The champion then proceeds to run down traits and knowledge about the other races, matter-of-factly, as if the details he is sharing are things that everyone from the surface knows.

“Wow.” Sky laughs as Wild finishes. “I had no idea.”

“There’s also the minish.” Four adds. “And the Wind Tribe, who are sky people, of course.”

Sky looks curious, but Four says nothing more, instead gesturing to the other heroes to share their thoughts, which they do.

“Terminans.” Time offers. “Very similar to Hylians.”

“Ordonians.” Twilight adds with a fond smile. No explanation is needed.

The others all nod along, but Legend rolls his eyes. “Humans, like, non-Hylian humans, Shifters,” The vet stares upwards with a light scowl as he ticks the races off of his fingers. “Technically they’re humans too, but Wild counted the Sheikah and Gerudo, so there’s also the Lorulians, Labrynninians, Holodrumese folks, Hytopians, Drablanders, Subrosians, Catalians-” Legend frowns. “I could swear there are more but I can’t really recall.”

Time, for whatever reason, he can’t really say why, cocks his head. “Any water people other than Zora?”

The vet snaps his fingers. “Mer-folk! Thank you, Time. I guess fae and animal folk count on that note.”

There’s a scoff and Warriors is leaning forwards with a smirk. “Fairies and animals, sure, but mer? Seriously, Legend? Have you even met a mer before?”

“Many times.” The veteran drawls, cocking a brow in the captain’s direction. “On multiple adventures. What about you, cap? Jealous you couldn’t snag one for your guild of brides?”

Warriors blusters about indignantly, earning laughter from the others as Legend smirks, but the man recovers quickly enough. “I do not have a guild of brides! That is- that is utterly disgusting!”

“Could have fooled me.” Legend teases, sipping some water from a flask.

“Give him a break.” Twilight snickers, shoving the vet playfully.

The unfortunate thing about Twilight’s shoves though is that the ranch hand doesn’t seem to know his own strength, and Legend is small enough that the light push is enough to send him scrabbling to not hit the ground. More laughter rings about their camp, but this time at the vet's expense, as Legend topples over into the dirt, spilling his drink and failing his arms as he goes.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Legend huffs, pulling himself back up and dusts off his clothes, scowling at the water spilled on him. “Great.”

“Oh, come on, you came back soaked to the skin earlier, what’s a bit of water going to hurt you, huh, vet?” Warriors ribs, smirking.

Legend shoots him a half-hearted glare.

“Legend,” Time starts slowly. “How would you describe the mer?”

The vet pauses, gaze resting maybe a moment too long as his hands as he brushes off the hem of his tunic. He’s already done so and there’s really no reason for him to do it again, but he does anyway. “What you’d expect.” He shrugs haltingly. “Hylian on top, fish beneath. Tail, long hair, that sort of thing.”

The old man hums. Legends ears twitch, nose shivering slightly as violet eyes flit over their group. “Care to expand on your sky people story, Four?”

“I’m good.” The smithy replies lazily.

Time would pass it off as a strange one-time thing, he would, but there are... other factors at play.

They’ve traveled to Four’s time, fighting off monsters and solving puzzles the same as they’ve always done. The boys are taking some downtime, playing hide and seek, and just like the last time, Time takes himself down to the river they’ve made camp ear and dons his Zora gear.

He isn’t expecting to see the creature, the mer, again, much less hear them singing -after all, this is a Hyrule far before his Pup’s- but there the creature is. It- or they- frolic in the water, chasing fish and singing softly. The tune is lighter than the last one he heard, a different song entirely, but there is no denying that it is the same mer.

Gold flecked, petal pink scales shimmer beneath the twisted lights that invade the water, hair of the same colors flowing in the current as long fingers, tipped with pointed claws, reach out to swipe at the fish swimming wildly away. They don’t catch anything, but Time hears it giggle anyways, the tune of its voice bubbling in merriment as it rolls like and otter and turns to explore some other part of the river bed.

The cursed curiosity of a hero niggles in Time’s mind. How is the same mer from before in this timeline, ages before Twilight would even be born? And why do they play and explore as if they’ve never seen this river bed before in their life?

Long claws pull through sand, and although their hair blocks their face from his view, he can still hear the warble of delight as the creature removes something sparkling and bright from the river bed. The mer floats in place, turning the item over in their hands curiously before whisking it out of sight and returning to their search.

A mer that likes treasure, huh? Why is he unsurprised?

His own soft laugh startles them, and for a half of a moment, golden ringed, violet eyes, wide and bright and full of shock, meet his own.

The mer is gone before he can make a move.

He asks Legend about it the next day. As they travel along the path towards the nearest town, Time falls back to ask the vet more about mer.

“Do mer like treasure?”

Legend starts, eyes wide as they meet his own, and something in the back of his mind is nagging him that the look in the vet’s eyes is somehow familiar. “What?”

“Do mer like treasure?” He repeats himself.

Legend stares at him, blinking slowly as they continue along the path, but eventually the vet shakes his head and answers. “Depends on the mer. They’re people too, Time, they can have varying interests and hobbies. There is no standard for mer. None.”

“Don’t they all swim at least?”

Legend’s gaze is flat. “There are disabled Hylians aren’t there? Not all Hylians can walk, and not Mer can swim. Some just choose not to because they don’t like it!”

Time frowns. How does the vet know so much about mer culture? “How do you know this?”

The vet shrugs, eyes darting away. “I’ve been a lot of places and met a lot of people. Mer are no exception.”

“I thought you hated swimming and the water?” Wind breaks in, falling back to join the two of them with an odd look on his face. He looks like a puppy and it’s killing Time not to ruffle the kid’s hair.

“Didn’t always.” Legend returns, smiling wryly down at the sailor. “But enough of that. The real question here is if you’ve ever met one, sailor.”

“A mer?” Wind furrows his brow, looking away with a soft sigh. “The water in my world isn’t safe for the people who lived in it. There’s hardly even any fish in most places. The Zora in my time had to adapt to the air instead in order to survive.”

Awkward silence falls over them, the vet looking guilty for a half a moment before he settles a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “The goddesses aren’t always fair, Maliit, it’s not your fault.

Time hums his agreement, heart aching for yet another young hero and a world that suffered for Time’s failure to have properly saved it.

He sees the mer again. Not just when he’s in the water himself, but when he’s keeping watch during the night or on occasion when he goes fishing with Twilight. The Pup says nothing about seeing gold and pink beneath the water, but Time finds himself watching it all the same.

It darts beneath the dock they’re fishing on one time, and when Twilight’s line gets a tug, the rancher pulls it up only to find the one of his boots dangling from the other end.

Time can’t help it, he laughs.

So, this mer is a prankster, huh?

He takes to seeking them out, trying to catch their attention or try to talk to them, but nothing works. The minute that gold and violet eyes meet his own, petal pink scales flick deftly in the waves and the mer is swimming away.

But Time isn’t dumb.

He knows that the same mer cannot reasonably exist across all of time, not with all the changes that come to the world with each hero. He knows that this being is somehow following them, and h’s got a rather good idea exactly how it’s happening.

It’s a long shot, but he knows for a fact that Legend is always gone from camp before he sees the creature, and enough times startling the vet when asking about mer has taught him that the expressions between the two are the same. All he knows on the mer’s face is shock, but the vet’s eyes glimmer the same shade of violet, even if they are different in size and shape, and the petal pink hair that the vet comes out of the forest with one evening after their group was separated is uncannily similar to the shade of the mer.

They’ve made camp again, and rather than climbing into the water when he catches a moment alone, Time settles on the shore, not in the mood to be in the water but in need of its calming song. The air has been tense the past few days, and Time welcomes a brief moment to relax, forcing himself not to think of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side or the ragged breath that wheezes between the rancher’s lips.

Twilight will be fine, he reminds himself. Hyrule and Warriors had worked together to tend the wound and while it would definitely leave a scar, the danger of losing their beloved friend and brother (and maybe son?) is not so high anymore.

He welcomes a free breath, away from the hurt gazes of his boys as they try and process that their beloved canine friend and the rancher are one and the same. A chance to think without having to stop those who were out of the know from bombarding those who were in it with questions.

He’s glad to be free of the questions himself.

Legend seems to be too, if the glint of pink beneath the waves is to be believed.

He doesn’t approach this time, doesn’t try entering the water to speak. He’s tired and he wants his spae, and he imagines Legend would like his own too. So, instead, he sits on the bank, feet trailing in the water and ocarina on his lips as he plays softly.

The tune is a sweet one, one he’d written himself that lilts and dips softly, very nearly perfect for a dance, but far more suited to a night by a fire or watching the sunset. And sunset it is, fading light stretching out across the water, glinting of the surface and reflecting off of gold and pink-

He stops, eye wide as he turns towards the flash in his vision.

Gold and violet stare back at him, framed in curling pink as Legend freeze half-way through pulling on his tunic again.

Gold fades just as the scales dissapear and leave the vet siting on the shore, tunic still bunched around his shoudlers and violet eyes wide with fear as he regards his leader.

“I won’t tell.” Time forces, turning away his gaze and returning his focus to the instrument in his hand. He doesn’t play, but he doesn’t look up either.

“It’s an item.” Legend forces, strained. His voice is still tainted with whatever power had shifted him between forms, and it’s sweeter and more melodious than normal. “I found it on my third adventure. Got cursed.”

“Like the rancher?” Time hums softly, not having to look up to know that Legend is shifting nervously, foot tapping madly at the ground beneath him.

“Yeah.” Legend huffs.

“Okay.” And he does look up them, calm and as open as he can make himself seem as he meets the vet’s gaze.

“Just okay?” One brow cocks as Legend crosses his arms.

“Just okay. It’s your secret, Legend. I can’t change what I’ve seen, but I won’t tell the others either.”

Legend nods, wary bit willing to accept the words, if only for now. “If you say so.”

They’re on their way back to camp, Legend carrying an armload of fish and Time carrying both of their bags when the vet stops and glares at him. “I don’t want to hear any jokes, alright? I get enough of those from Twilight and Sky.”

“They know?” The old man tilts his head in question.

Legend flushes, ducking his head and setting off again at a speed some might label a scurry. “No. Hurry up, these fish are gonna rot!”

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

Waves lap around his head and it’s all Time can do to break the surface, coughing and hacking as he struggles to remain above the water.

The portal had come at the worst time ever, and no one had been ready to be dropped into the center of the ocean.

Lightning crackles overhead as waves swirl and crash about him. The ocean rages and Time is again reminded how small Hylian’s are in the face of Mother Earth herself.

“Boys!” The shout rasps from his throat as he spins to look about, praying to every deity he knows that he’ll find the rest of them safe and sound, or at the very least together. Never mind that Twilight still can’t walk, much less swim. Never mind the smithy’s shattered arm and Wild’s fear of the water. He can’t panic about those right now, he has to find them!

“Over here!” Sky’s voice answers him. The Chosen Hero clings to the shivering form of the smithy, both are soaked and trembling, but they’re managing to stay above the waves.

“My Hyrule!” Wind calls out as Time strikes out towards them, and the sailor continues once he’s close enough to see that at least five of his boys are safe. “We’re near land,” Wind nods in a random direction and Time wonders briefly how the sailor even knows that. “It could be a challenge in these waves, but we can make it. Have you seen the others?”

Hyrule looks up at him hopefully, the water-logged traveler fighting madly to stay above the water but succeeding despite the waves. Time reminds himself to help the boy learn to swim more effectively later, and more importantly how to properly tread water, but for now he focuses on answering Wind. “You're the firsts. We’ll have to hope the others are alright, getting y’all to safety is my first concern.

“But Wild!” Hyrule splutters, choking on some water as Time swims over to give the traveler someone to cling to. Freezing fingers latch ahold of his armor as teeth chatter, the waves are neither kind nor warm and with their health as it is he’s certain someone is going to end up with a cold when this is all over. “And Twilight! A-and Legend and Wars! They’re out there somewhere!”

“We have to hope Legend and Warriors can elp the other two. We can’t do them any good if we’re fighting to stay above ourselves.” He tries to same calm, but his own mind and heart scream with the same message that Hyrule’s voice does, and its all he can do to push it down.

Thunder rolls overhead and waves beneath as they push off towards the shore, each of the older heroes aiding a younger one as Wind guides them all towrads the supposed island.

Time hs never been so relieved to see sand in his life, and as Hyrule pulls himself up the bach and Wind helps Sky to settle Four, Time can only pray that he’ll find his way back again. “I’m going to look for the otehrs. Wind, stay and help Sky.” The sailor looks as if he wants to hesitate, but he knows better than anyone how a small body can be lost to the waves much easier than an adult. “Make a fire, warm up as best you can. Keep an eyes out. I’ll come back if- when I find the others.”

He stops only to shed his armor and don his Zora gear, but a single dive beneath the water is enough to tell him that it’s for naught. Wind wasn’t joking about his water being toxic, and a single breath of the stuff leaves Time heaving as soon as he breaks the surface.

His chances of finding the boys have lowered considerably.

Nayru above, don’t let anyone have sunk beneath!

Time swims for all he is worth, pushing past weariness as he battles each and every wave. And he’s just beginning to lose hope when he catches sight of something silver reflecting in the water as lighting flashes above.

“Time!”

Blue whips around to meet its twins as Warriors comes to swim beside him. “Have you found any of the others?”

“Wind, Sky, Hyrule and Four.” he breathes back. “You?”

The captian looks rueful but nods to his side. “Legend.”

Time can’t help but start as Legend’s eyes peek above the surface. Golden and violet are glassy in the pale ace of the vet, but they’re there and that means that Legend is alive.

“I’ve officially met my first mer.” Warriors sighs, but there’s worry in the captains voice and face both.

“Split up.” Legend’s voice rasps, and there none of the melodic song that Time is used to hearing from this form of the vet.

Legend is pale, far too pale.

“What’s-”

“Wind’s world.” Warriors tells him. “Water here is toxic.”

The water is toxic. The water, which mer have to breath to stay alive, is toxic.

Time’s gaze shoots to the vet but there’s only a flick of gold and pink as he disappears beneath the waves. Warriors groans. “He keeps doing that! I swear, I have no way of knowing if he’s even still there, but he still insists on disappearing like the little shit he is.”

Usually, Time would scold his brother for such a tone, but he knows that Warriors is just sacred. He’s terrified, and it leaks into his voice and his actions, and the only way that the soldier knows how to hide the fear is by biting back with venom, not dissimilar to the vet’s own actions.

They swim together, searching and calling out for the two missing heroes. Hope is beginning to fade and Time can feel a gnawing fear eating away at his heart as he thinks of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side and the likelihood that Twilight would even be able to swim with it.

His pup’s chances aren’t high.

“Look!” Warriors shouts over the storm, jerking him from his thoughts as his eyes follow the captain’s pointing hand.

Pink bobs on the surface, backed by bedraggled and soaked black fur as Legend hauls Twilight’s limp form through the water.

“Pup!”

He’s taking the lad from Legend as soon as they’re in reach, and Legend seems to sag in relief as the weight is removed from his shoulder. “Was with Wild. Bring him to-” The vet wheezes and ducks beneath the water for a moment, coming up with a pained expression on his face. “Bring to shore. I’ll get Wild.” He gives them no time to respond, tail flicking as he disappears beneath the waves again.

Time and Warriors exchange a glance and head back to shore, supporting the weight of the rancher between them.

Wind and Sky have managed to get a virtual bonfire going on the shore, and the sailor has laid what blankets and bed-rolls he’s found of their equipment in front of it, allowing their dampened things to ry as he and the other three heroes bundle together for warmth.

It’s with a cheer that they al; greet Time and Warriors as the two emerge from the ocean, and Time can’t help but smile a bit in relief at seeing them all safe again. Only a little longer and Legend will be back with Wild, and then he can rest easy knowing they’re all out of the storm.

Rain still patters against already soaked skin and cloth, but with the fire flickering before them Time can’t bring himself to care over much.

Hyrule’s fingers shiver as they slide over the wound in Twilight’s side, cleansing it from the poisonous water that has soaked into the bandages, and while Twilight grits his teeth and winces, he’s at least conscious enough to do so, and that alone brings some peace to the others.

Warriors informs the others of the whereabouts of their two missing brothers, and Time helps to settle Twilight on one of the warming bedrolls. It made still be wet, but it’s better than getting sand in the pup’s wound.

They wait in tense silence, bundled together to share heat as nervous gazes watch the shore. Wind hasn’t stopped muttering under his breath and Four isn’t doing much better with his half formed sentences and steady murmurs.

It’s only when Wild’s golden hair can be seen on the shore that they all release a breath of air.

Cornflower blue is wide and glazed, likely from shock, but it doesn’t stop the champion from reaching back into the waves to pull out his companion.

Legend is a mess.

The veteran gasps and splutters for breath once he’s free, skin a sickly shade of white and eyes just as glazes as Wild's own as the two clings to each other, and when the two stand together Legend is leaning heavily against the shaking champion, and it’s only through sheer luck that Time and Sky get there in time to catch them before the duo collapses back into the waves.

Wild curls against Time’s chest, fingers shaking and eyes blank as the man carries him back to the fire. Legend doesn’t even stir, lying limp in Sky’s hold as the Skyloftian bustles back to join the other heroes.

Nothing is said about the glistening tail that fades into legs once Legend is warmed and dried, and even if anyone had dared the stern gaze of the first of their number would have been enough to silence them.

Violet blinks hazy and distant beneath the warmed fabric of Sky’s sailcloth, but they are all safe. They are all safe and they are alive.

“Thanks to Legend.” Wild whispers when he comes back, head resting against Times collar bone. “Without him I would have never got Twi back to shore.”

“Three cheers for the vet.” Wars forces a smile, and while the cheers are heartfelt and thankful, they do nothing to lighten the mood.

Legend doesn’t even seem to hear them.

313 notes · View notes

kandyrezi · 3 years

Note

Offers you some pocket lint and also a bag of chocolate buttons and an actual button or two

Can I get some uhhhhhh Yandere Ziki stuff?

—esurient;

pairing: yandere!ziki x reader

warnings: dismemberment, amputation, blood & gore

(a/n: I have no idea what on earth I’m supposed to do with those assortment of items you just electronically gifted me, but thank you anyway -

- yeah, not me thinking to myself upon seeing this ask ‘who tf is ziki?’ ……. OH, THE MOUTH WITCH. moment of enlightenment after that. (there are some bonus headcanons as well at the bottom of this fic! <3))

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

SHE DIPS HER FINGERS into the crimson stain, placing the blood-stained digits on her tongue, identifying the one it belongs to. Unmistakable, no doubt. Her lover's blood isn't as tasty as some of the others' she's consumed – but it's inconsequential. The taste bears no meaning in comparison to the adoration she feels for the one who brightened up her world like no one else ever has.

(she remembers the look in your eyes – lost and confused – the very look you gazed at her with the first time when she spotted you.)

The blood splatters leave her darling's scent lingering, yet they themselves are nowhere to be found – most likely having somehow wandered off to somewhere. You must have hurt yourself, as she doesn't remember you bleeding when she'd left you on your lonesome.

(she fell in love with you the day she'd met you.)

It's too bad no one in this world will come to your aid, not like she did when she first met you. The other witches are all selfish and only acting in their own self-interest.

(not wanting to lose someone so precious and wanting to consummate your love, she took you back to her little place of residence hidden away in the witch world.)

Finding you is laughably easy when you didn't even make it very far in the first place; you're awfully noisy and the tongues on her body have excellent taste receptors. One of the mouths on her braided hair maims you in the thigh, hardly a challenge at all as you're still drowsy from your escape— rather, your impolite, unannounced departure. As you look up at your pursuer hovering on her broom with your one still-intact eye, instead of ghostly white, her eyes shine a captivating yellow much like the mysterious sphere resting in the skies.

You must have seen her then for who she really was.

A witch of hunger and rage.

She didn't want to inject you with her venom. Weaker creatures such as yourself were easily susceptible to it and would likely die from it ("cardiac arrest" Ptomain had described it as) as opposed to becoming immobilised.

You are not the human who had the prettiest lilac eyes who escaped from the mansion of a vampire lord. You are not the leopard seal girl with broken fangs she came across beached on an island.

But you're you, and that's all she cares about.

. . .

The source of light provided by a stream of orange glow from the skies reflected off of the leaves from the trees yet the bright hues do nothing in ways of giving comfort. It could be pitch black and your heart would threaten to beat out of your chest from terror in equal measure.

You're partially blind due to your missing left eye and your surroundings are alien to you. Never would you have willingly entered a maze of unknown woods, yet at this moment you're desperate. You wish some ghastly beast would emerge from from the underground to devour you right then and there to simply end it so you wouldn't have to endure it – anything at all to avoid the deadly clutches of Ziki.

The soles of your feet no doubt have developed callouses and your toes burn from how long you've been running while avoiding getting your ankle stuck in vines or treading on one of the many-eyed endemic snakes. You momentarily lean your weight onto a (hopefully) harmless tree trunk with your dismembered, two-fingered hand.

The wind blows, howling right next to your ear, causing a tremor of shivers to trail down your spine. You feel like you're being taunted, watched with a calculating gaze – you push yourself upright and are ready to sprint (to your death if you have to), but it only takes you less than a second—

The jolt of sharp pain in your thigh forces you to freeze up like an icicle as the painful sensation rapidly spreads through your body. You fall into the dirt with no way to brace yourself with painful collision. something (but you know it's in fact, a someone) has bitten you in the leg and the juncture above your ankle is maimed next.

Ziki might not be hunting you for the purpose of killing you (—or so she's claimed) yet obviously natural predator-prey instincts kick in when the one being hunted down isn't so keen on allowing the one doing the hunting to sink their sharp, sawtooth-like tusk into your thigh so she can't let you get away. Especially now when one of her twin-tail mouths latch on to and break through muscle and tissue, the stream of red running down your leg creating another warm shade of color to paint the woods with. You're too weak to struggle much due to injuries you've sustained back at the witch's residence and on the run, and the fight ends before it can even begin.

You slip in and out of consciousness many times – the words shifts and moves around you, but you aren't sure where you ended up, not until after you wake up again.

The braided witch is saying something but you can't make out all the words.

"Neither your eye... your fingers... enough."

Were you really taken back...?

"It seems... you still don't... the conjoin of our love, so..."

What is this lunatic saying?!

"...Zi-Ziki..."

Your head barely becomes clearer yet it still hurts, you realize it when you feel the tight hold of belts strapping you to a familiar chair by your ankles and shoulders. It must be her kitchen. Where she keeps her jars and other glass containers full of substances you don't want to know about. The herbs and flowers hanging from the walls can't block out the stench you feel oozing from them. You can't really see her, but a smile on her face was normally her default expression, so it's far from a stretch to assume so.

"But I'm not complaining," Ziki keeps on talking, "Not when the meat from your flesh is so... tender. I've been keeping you well-fed and nourished, you can thank Ptomain for giving me some tips. Not sure how she knows so much about the health of your kind, but..."

She leans forward to hold your hand with farce tenderness, her other fingers stroking the outlines of the veins on your wrist below.

"...it's good that you're here now! After this, you'll tell me how much you feel the same way that I do for you~! Don't worry, I won't let you die. A witch's promise."

All the mouths on her body open to showcase their sharp teeth right in front of you. you vaguely register her biting your arm off from the elbow with the mouth on her face while the rest hold your body still to keep you from struggling. It's not a clean bite – she twists and yanks as your bones crack and shatter while tissues come apart under her immense strength. It all happens in less than a few seconds yet your nerves are on fire and you can't remember screaming or crying or pleading – nothing – as your body forces itself into unconsciousness from shock and agony.

You pray you won't wake up again after this time.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

• Ziki has a desire to consume a part of her lover so they're with her always - probably a body part like fingers, an entire limb, earlobe, or an eye (rarely) - possibly keeps some in a jar as well. She "falls in love" easily but is unable to "keep them"for long because she becomes too overzealous in her treatment of them.

• She hates it when her darling runs away from her. It's enough to make her lose her composure and almost kill them when she finds them again - it's mainly a stroke of luck when she doesn't violently lash out at the moment of seeing them.

• Despite how much of a whacko she is, she is actually strategic when it comes to anatomy and knows best places to injure to keep a darling immobile or crippled.

• Ziki doesn't have any healing abilities like some of the other witches. If her darling were a human, they would most likely end up dying from the injuries which she inflicted.

• She is kept under careful watch of the Great Witch to make sure she doesn't go overboard but will sometimes turn a blind eye if it's some stray, weak human (since they don't usually survive under the harsh conditions of PBW anyway).

• While she will otherwise go for anyone, she has a bit of a fetish for humans in particular because she likes how frail and docile they are.

• Feels lonely since the death of her familiar (not caused by her). This might correlate with her desire to keep a plaything to fill in that void (...or it might not).

• The mouths on her body can open and eat things, but can speak with only the one on her face.

• Ziki is friends with Ptomain and Kagimori. Since they can do types of witchcraft that fundamentally differ from one another, Ptomain has given her tips on medical care and health without the need for magic usage. Kagimori sometimes complains about the mess from blood stains on the hardwood floors of Ziki's cottage when she goes in for a visit.

• Her eyes change color depending on her mood; her pupils are pure white when she's feeling more docile, but they turn yellow when her emotions become intense and she feels them strongly.

• Aside from her appetite for flesh, she also likes mandarin oranges.

- - -

(a/n: ziki is literally a blank slate with just a visual appearance, so I got a little creative with her in ways you normally can't with established characters. I wrote the headcanons while i was trying to figure out her personality for just myself initially, but then decided to share them anyway.)

#yandere x reader #funamusea #mogeko #okegom #yandere #deep-sea prisoner #dsp #female yandere #ziki (mogeko)#yanderecore #ficlets

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mqnasluvr · 3 years

Note

heya ! i heard you were new around here, could i request headcanons of enemies to lovers with kaeya and childe ? any pronouns are fine ! they’re so annoying i hate how i love them nevertheless,, thank you belladonna and take your time <3

enemies to lovers | kaeya alberich

pairings; kaeya x gn!reader

mentioned; jean

warnings; enemies to lovers but it’s pretty one sided, spoilers for kaeyas backstory, no beta we die like men, a lil bit of kaeya slander im sorry i had to, gn! reader

word count; 2k

a/n; where did kyquu go? :( i hope they at least see this.. i didnt finish childes part but i wanted to push this out as soon as possible. :(

kaeya

to put it simply, your relationship with kaeya was... tiring.

you had been close to kaeya and his younger brother for years, them being your closest and most trusted friends throughout part of your childhood and teenage years. but that all came to a halt when the former admitted to being a spy from khaenri'ah.

in no way or form did he expect for you two to forgive him— but actually seeing your broken and betrayed faces hurt him more than he thought it would, and the image still haunts him to this day.

you had separated yourself from the two brothers. although diluc didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t want to pick between them ( even though you really should’ve ). that decision was too hard for you to make.

for years, you stayed out of touch with kaeya as he continued to climb the ranks within the knights of favonius, and you followed, much to your dismay. you worked hard to become a knight, and you weren’t going to quit just because of some bad blood between you and your superior. ( props to you for maturity )

he wanted nothing more than to reconnect with you, and maybe even diluc— but that was wishful thinking. diluc ragnvindr was a stubborn, hardheaded man, and getting past that exterior would be no simple feat.

so, he opted for ( not so ) subtly courting you— giving you the occasional wave whenever he saw you walking through mondstadt, offering to help you train ( although you declined every time ), and other small things. you question why he chose to do this now of all times, after half a decade of not speaking to each other.

you weren’t sure how to feel, but it made you agitated. not seething with rage, but it did annoy you to see his lazy grin whenever he walked into the angels share and saw you sitting in the corner of the room. it annoyed you whenever he did that stupid two finger salute before walking off, and archons, did it annoy you when he patted your shoulder after sparring as if you were the best of buds.

then why did your thoughts never stray from him?

that question, you couldn’t answer.

and so, you resorted to treating him like he didn’t exist. it was rude, but you couldn’t really think of anything else. avoiding him like the plague was the one thing you were good at.

as if things couldn’t get any worse, one of your worst nightmares came to fruition.

“jean, please. why can’t i do this mission with you? why... him?” you were basically at the acting grand masters feet, head in your hands and pleading up at the woman. she felt bad, but there was nothing she could do.

“i’m really sorry y/n. but i’m too busy with other things, and kaeya happens to be available. you know an ordinary knight wouldnt be able to take this mission,” her guilt worsened when you looked up at her with ( fake ) tears in your eyes. she kneeled to your height.

“i don’t know of your history with kaeya, but please, just put it aside for this one mission. it shouldn’t take you very long.”

jean helped you stand to your feet, the frown etched into her face growing deeper when she saw your shoulders slump. “alright, fine..i’ll try-”

“jean! have you seen y/n— ah, there they are,” kaeya waltzed in without so much as a knocking, making you jump in surprise and shoot a glare at him. he flashed you a lazy grin.

“speak of the devil..” you muttered.

“are you ready to go? we don’t have much time.” the mission you were assigned was to gain intel on what the fatui were planning. to get said intel, you had to sneak into a gathering held by the fatui. the dresscode was rather expensive— more expensive than anything you owned— so to help you out, kaeya took the liberty of purchasing an outfit for you.

kaeya dropped it into your arms. “change into this. don’t want to show up to a party wearing uniform, do you?”

“thanks...” your face felt warm from embarrassment, but you did have to admit, that was considerate of him.

he laughed and waved his hand, shaking his head. “let’s get going, yeah?”

—

you finished getting ready with the help of jean. she sent you one last apologetic gaze before walking you out the door, waving at you both.

kaeya didnt even hide the fact that he was checking you out. his eyes raked over your attire, before sticking his arm out for you to hold. “my, my, you look quite impressive, y/n. is everything suited to your tastes?”

you huffed and walked past him. “the corset is too tight, and the shoes are too small.” you were only half lying— the corset was a bit uncomfortable to move in, but he got your shoe size down to a T. how? you didn’t really want to know.

“if that’s the case, i can loosen it for you-”

“no.”

kaeya laughed it off, and you only grew more irritated. “come now, y/n. don’t be so stiff.”

“i am perfectly content with being stiff, thank you. now hurry up, i want to get this over with,” you muttered the last part.

you didn’t want to admit that you were struggling to take your eyes off of his attire. he was clad in a white suit with blue complimentary colors to match your own outfit.

you rolled your eyes. ‘of course he’d get us matching outfits.’

but, you didnt find yourself minding all too much.

—

the party looked like any other party— fatui agents littered all over the residence, along with guests in fancy clothing.

you tugged on your sleeve, feeling uncomfortable and out of place. but on the outside, yourself and kaeya blended in pretty well.

because kaeya was such a well known figure, he had to change up his looks a bit. no eyepatch, ( i know, so uncharacteristic ) and he used contacts to change his eye color to a darker shade.

he also put that disgusting rat tail away.

so he didn’t look completely different, but he looked different enough.

...the change was nice.

you couldnt help but feel watched though. but that was to be expected. even though you felt somewhat secure in this situation, anxiety rests for no one. it rested in the pit of your stomach dormantly, waiting for a moment to bloom.

looking around the ballroom, kaeya found people dancing in the middle. deciding that it was better to at least enjoy the party before leaving, he stood in front of you and held his hand out, bowing.

“may i have this dance?”

“who do you think i am-”

kaeya flashed you a cautious glance, head nodding towards a fatui agent who was keeping their eye on the two of you. holding back a sigh, you placed your hand in his. he grinned.

“thank you,” he said. you grunted quietly and held back a roll of your eyes as he dragged you to the middle of the dance floor.

“attention whore,” you muttered, feeling warmer as he placed his hand on your lower back and pulled you in closer.

“you wound me, y/n.”

“you deserve it. i wish i could slap you.”

he stayed quiet. maybe too far?

you shook your head. no. there was no way you we’re going to let yourself feel sorry for him when he was literally a spy.

but he feels honest enough.

sure, his intentions at first were.. questionable. but he’s changed for the better. kaeya has been in mondstadt for years now, and khaenri'ah fell ages ago. his love for mond shouldn’t be doubted for a second, even if he hides it quite well.

before you could look up and make sure your words didn’t hurt him too badly, he leaned down near your ear.

“we have to go.”

“what-”

“i’ll explain later, but we have to go,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd.

you didn’t notice, but several of the fatui agents were watching you. you didnt change your looks as much as he did, opting to use simple touch-ups to make yourself more presentable. but it wasn’t enough.

“hey!” one of that agents shouted, and kaeya turned his head back to see how close they were. like he suspected, they were following gou. they pushed through the people, even going as far as knocking one man over, just to catch up.

you hurried your steps along with kaeya, almost sprinting to keep up with him. his grip on your hand was firm though. you two dashed up the stairs onto the third floor of the residence, where the bedrooms were. offices, libraries, bedrooms— they were all there. kaeya picked a random one and shoved you both inside.

it was a red themed bedroom, the lights dim with papers scattered along the desk on the other side of the room. “it seems we’ve gotten lucky,” kaeya joked, skimming over the papers. they were letters, between the fatui and some unknown source. kaeya stashed them in his jacket.

you didn’t understand how he could joke at a time like this. you still arent in the clear and you could hear rapid footsteps coming upstairs. “kaeya—!”

“you know how you said you wanted to slap me?” he said while tucking the last bit of papers into his suit. he didnt even give you a chance to answer. “you can, after this.”

you were confused, but when he backed you up against the wall and pressed his lips to yours, that confusion turned into anger, then more confusion, then understanding.

sighing when you finally caught on, he pulled your body closer to his and you wrapped your arms sround his shoulders. he tugged and nipped on your bottom lip, and if you didnt know any better your knees would be knocking. he was almost too good at this.

suddenly, an agent— a female one, this time— barged in. “have you— hey! take that shit elsewhere, lovebirds!”

kaeya hid your face in his chest, grinning lazily at the woman. his lips were swollen and his eyes were lidded. the woman blushed.

clearing her thoat, she held up a picture of you. well, moreso the back of your head. “have you seen this individual?”

he stared at the woman, then glaced down at you. “..sorry. i’ve been busy, i haven’t seen anyone of the sort. wish i could help,” he shrugged, and the ladies blush worsened. “o-of course..” she muttered, before closing the door and locking it.

kaeya snorted at the irony. he looked back at you, who was still touching your lips with your fingers.

“was i that good?” he chuckled, and caught your hand when you moved to slap him. his laughter died down and he looks oddly serious.

“y/n, we need to talk..”

“...no we dont,” you turned your back to him. he put his hand on your shoulder.

“yes,” he sighed. “we do. i know you didnt want to do this with me-”

“kaeya..”

“-and really, i understand. but i’ve changed, and i know you’ve noticed. i dont want you to hate me forever-”

“kaeya-”

“and you can’t-”

“kaeya!” you nearly yelled. he finally stopped talking over you. “i don’t want to talk about this right now. can you just drop it?”

“then when?” he narrowed his eyes. he laughed humorlessly when there was no reply.

kaeya’s eyes softened the longer you stayed silent. he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you in for a hug. “...sorry.”

“could you please shut up,” you mumbled into his chest. he laughed softly.

“i know you’re wary right now. but all i ask for is a second chance,” he pulled away and hend your hands together in his. “...please.”

it was an odd sight, seeing him this vulnerable. then again, there was a good chance he was faking it to get on your good side but.. for some reason you found it hard to believe that. he looked truly sincere.

you groaned.

“you better not make me regret this.”

#i took inspo from a fic i read on tiktok... ill try to find the original creator #kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you

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junhuiste · 3 years

Text

next level (ex-wip)

pairing: wonwoo x gn reader

word count: 2200

tags/warnings: fluff, angst, slightly suggestive, cursing, friends to enemies to lovers, college au

a/n: so i said i’d publish my other ex wips and here’s another one! i planned on making this a 3 parter where y/n asks wonwoo for help on a computer game even though they were enemies but before that they were friends …does that make any sense i didn’t think so! also this is an ex wip so sorry for the asterisks everywhere! those words were the ones i was gonna replace later on lmfao!!!! also i wrote this 2 years ago when i was 17 so my apologies if its utter bullshit 😭

as wonwoo help you leveled up, you wondered if you should do the same regarding your friendship…errr…enemyship….

It’d been an hour or so of Wonwoo verbally guiding you through the various moves and strategies but once he stood up your breath suddenly hitched, for whatever reason.

Breathing seemingly became somewhat harder as you saw from the corner of your eye that wonwoo was coming to stand behind you.

“it’s gonna get harder,” he said softly, his hand finding yours, “let me help you.”

as much as you appreciated his help, you didn’t need wonwoo to baby you; you were perfectly capable of taking verbal directions without needing guidance like a rookie. “i can do it; i swear!”

though it was hard to train your eyes on both wonwoo and the computer monitor simultaneously, you managed to do it anyway. “that’s not what you said last week when i offered you my help.”

it wasn’t that you didn’t need wonwoo’s help, and it wasn’t certainly that you didn’t want it, but there was something mischievous yet somehow alluring and amusing pushing him away. it was honestly quite ***horrible ** for you to admit it, but playing cat and mouse was refreshing, though it was a game hard to keep up with.

eventually you gave in and you took deep breaths slowly and surely as wonwoo’s hand rest atop yours. it was warm, but not sweaty; relaxed, but not ***heavy***. his head was most definitely closer to yours than last time, even though you tried to focus solely on the computer monitor, he was within an ear’s whisper from you. as he guided your hand, your thoughts glided slowly away from the game entirely and onto the boy behind you. it was hard, really, to ****focus*** on the 146th level of the game when the boy you liked a while back had his shoulder barely leaning into yours, with his warmth radiating onto you so so comfortably.

it hadn’t even been 10 minutes since wonwoo had stood up behind you that his arm was now resting ***comfortably***on yours. the weight of his top half ***barely*** on yours wasn’t even what went into consideration, for the most part. it what you could feel was ***slowly*** developing in the room, moment by moment, and it was excruciatingly painful how much time it took to build up. palms clammy, fingers ready to give out, and breathing ***most definitely*** not under control, you were ready to tap out and give into your instincts.

a mosh pit of psychedelic colors reflected onto both of your faces as the round ended. with the blinds only half drawn and how bright the screen was turned up, you winced at what seemed like a light source that envied the sun glared at you. the heat from the screen wasn’t the only **warmth**** prevalent, however. you certainly hadn’t forgotten about wonwoo’s shoulder ***leaning** onto yours.

avoiding all what you’d learned in high/secondary school about what freud said about the ego calming the id, you surpassed straying from your normal actions. you’d leaped from them, and it couldn’t be fathomed by anyone, by you or soonyoung, or especially jeon wonwoo, what lead you to remove your headphones and turn around in the computer chair and then kiss jeon wonwoo. what was most surprising was that he leaned in too, so much didn’t have to be done on your part.

as he leaned in closer, you pulled wonwoo closer, as if it were instinct and you’d kissed him a thousand times before. knowing him for quite some time, it was evident that he didn’t link up with anyone, whether that be for a single night of pleasure or months of commitment, so it was ***most definitely*** more than alike to a jack-in-the-box when he knew what he was doing, and so well too. his hand **softly*** stroking your cheek with your thumb and your hand ***softly **rubbing*** his neck were a pair you never would’ve expected in light years would be together. the whole ***thing** was just unbelievable…and undoubtedly **breathtaking***, as such as you would ***hate*** to ever tell him.

flashes of blue and red glossed wonwoo’s face again as you looked up at him. “would you look at that,” a slight tinge of satisfaction laced his tone and captured his expression, as you heard a faint “level 147 unlocked” behind you.

the exact reason you were at the dorm for you had completely abandoned; your endeavor was ***seemingly** cut short by your id, too strong for it to be tamed by your superego. in fact, all goals for the game were temporarily thrusted into the iceberg of your unconscious thoughts as you looked up at wonwoo again while tugging his shirt.

it was a precarious game of truth or dare you were playing with yourself, and you were losing to nothing none other than your current desires? mere attractions? repressed feelings? whatever it was, it didn’t really matter as wonwoo leaned into you again, this time more ***forcefully/intensely**, with both of you managing to slip a tongue in here and there. french kissing wonwoo? not exactly on your bucket list but something you were glad to have checked off, be it for lust, regret, or simply nostalgia of how you once felt for the boy who’s sweater you were tugging at to bring him closer and closer and closer.

it had **certainly** been more than a few good minutes of locking lips with jeon wonwoo, and what resulted was both of you panting heavily and looking each other in the eyes a little too intensely for your liking—not necessarily a look of sin but rather of repressed longing and ***regret**. the tension swore to engulf you and spit you out but what was sprinting through your mind instead was that wonwoo kissed you back.

had the naive, freshman you known that making out with jeon wonwoo would become a reality, you would’ve jumped at the thought. was he cute or irritating? bold or brazen? or was he simply just there that you immediately caved in and let your libido think for itself? it was just like that class where he palpated you; did feelings resurface because of a craving for affection? or was wonwoo a person you genuinely wanted to pursue something with. restating what he’d said earlier, that’s not what you’d thought a few months ago.

confusion. that’s what it was at most, at best, with the clearest label. wonwoo was there, yes, but he was also ***caring** (yet competitive), offering (yet **pretentious**), and someone you’d cared for back. the way he carried himself around you was *annoying** at times, sure, but he was never malicious. wonwoo had not one bad bone in his body, and you were willing to stand by that statement. his competitiveness and bold nature that peeked in once in a while were far outweighed by his humility.

no matter how many times he corrected you as naive and curious freshmen, you’d always find yourself falling back to feelings. just like now. but what was it really? did bubbles reappear just because of his hand on yours? because of his somewhat secret smiles when he knew you enjoyed his company? maybe. but it certainly wasn’t because he was just there.

even if bubbles popped and didn’t reappear, it would be better to get feelings out, right? it would lessen the blow, for both you and wonwoo. would you come to terms with what you once harbored for jeon wonwoo? maybe not.

sitting on the bed, wonwoo perked his head up at the sight of you in the chair finally facing him. “this…this isn't a heat of a moment thing…” you began, taking as much of your precious time as possible. if you were going to confront how you felt and didn't feel simultaneously, it might as well have taken some thought at the very least, especially for wonwoo’s sake.

the raven-haired** boy hunched over with a quirked eyebrow to continue to hear you out.

“i like you—i’m sorry, i mean i used to like you. like a lot. sometimes a lot for my own good. back in freshman year.” it was a struggle to get it all out in one breath. confrontation should be something you’d never have to do again. wonwoo stayed silent, his eyes no longer **trained* on yours, but shifted **somewhat** nervously to the floor. the way your heart pulsated mercilessly at the brutal sound of silence forced the temperature to shoot up suddenly.

it didn’t work; you didn’t feel clean, worse actually, and from what it looked like at the moment, wonwoo probably did as well. he usually did well when it all boiled down to fear, feelings, and *rationality* mixing, because he pushed it away. everyone knew that, and you especially. he didn’t take any hard hits when he was third-wheeling soonyoung or roaming mindlessly at one of **NCT’s** notorious frat parties.

maybe it was time to leave. perhaps those moments of silence where you had to recollect yourself, your dignity, and your feelings were a pure waste.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i just threw that at you. i’ll leave now—and uh, thanks for the help.” sometimes feelings weren’t merely felt, other times they were ruthless and just sprung up at the worst of times. maybe that’s why your body was unforgiving and threatening to prick your eyes with water. hurriedly, you grabbed your headphones and clenched them tightly in your fist before taking a step to leave.

however, a pang of something hit. it was unidentifiable, that thing that was keeping you from taking any more steps to leave wonwoo’s room. it was agonizing at the same intensity as it was delirious, and wild and tantalizing even. whatever it was, it was piercing you, forcing you to stay in place.

once again, the air around you was impassioned and the evident thumping and thrashing and thrusting in your chest occurred as wonwoo stood up in front of you. his tall stature didn’t threaten you, only how you felt did.

“how long?” he pried with a *cold** kind of warmth before sitting down in the computer chair. his knees were almost touching yours, and he leaned back with burning curiosity.

“i…don’t know. it was a while back…and for a long time; that’s all i remember.”

the unspoken miracle had graced you as river that almost formed around your eyes earlier had finally dried up.

wonwoo had that same look on his face he always had when no answers or solutions came to mind right away. it wasn’t expressionless, far from it. you didn't know if it was inquiry or discontent, or even a thrill; the latter you’d wished but was far from being a reality.

the way wonwoo struggled to get out what he wanted took you aback. he always knew what to say, whether witty, spiteful, or helpful, and to plain sight of him also choking on his words threw you for a numbing, yet throbbing** loop.

“do you still like me?” wonwoo finally made eye contact with you, the kind of eye contact someone makes when they itch for the answer to so badly be yes.

it was at that moment that he locked you in again. but you spent the last year convincing yourself you hated him. indeed, hate was too strong of a word for it. something else. and just as you’d told him, it was absolutely not the kiss that stirred you to confess in a half-assed manner. it was just so bothersome to not know what those feelings were.

it almost choked to say it, because you *genuinely* felt it, but didn’t know what exactly to do about it.

“i-i don’t know.” you couldn’t keep up with eye contact. it was much too biting.

wonwoo captured your eyes again, but this time it wasn’t the same confused gleam they held, but rather one of clouded elation. you couldn’t exactly tell, but you knew it was just electricity in there somewhere.

“do you want to kiss me again?” was the million dollar question that was lurking. wonwoo asked it with such subtle amusement. instead of taking advantage of your feelings and vulnerability in this situation, which he would never think to do, he decided to act upon his own.

there was an evident yearning in his tone, his body language, his eyes, everything. you knew the difference between when wonwoo was simply waiting for an answer and when he was aching for it immediately. this moment called for the latter.

his inclination provoked a smile out of you. whatever it was, you didn’t know how you felt; you just knew you needed to kiss him again.

you dropped everything you had been clenching so tightly in your hands and and bent down to hold his face in your hand as you leaned in. his soft lips finally met yours again, and unlike the first couple of kisses you shared, this time it was *softer***, slower, driven by an avid and throbbing want to be as close to the other person as possible. this time it had meaning. and you couldn’t find yourself pulling away as wonwoo’s hand came behind your thigh to pull you closer to him.

he was never one to make the first move, for most things, and it surprised you when he popped the question and pulled you to him. practically falling on him in the chair, you whispered out a faint “sorry”, as he rushed to hold you. he *giggled softly** before he continued to kiss you. eventually you repositioned yourself to straddle him in the chair and oh my god you were making out with jeon wonwoo.

videogames, huh?

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagine #seventeen #wonwoo

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Stepdaddy

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- Its here and now I lowkey wanna write more of this)

Summary- Caught in a lustful attraction, Keanu and his soon to be step daughter, fall victim to their desire. *OFC (Y/n) is over 18. (I beg you, please don’t kill me.)

Warnings- NSFW/SMUT, daddy kink, semi-public sex, infidelity (please just read the title and summary), age gap

Keanu knew it was wrong, with every fiber in his being, from the depths of his experienced mind all the way down to the very tips of his toes, he knew for certain, it was wrong. But he couldn't help himself, for though he’d prided himself on having a strict moral code, he was, at the base of it, a man. A man who could appreciate a gorgeous woman when he saw one. If only that gorgeous woman wasn’t mere months away from being his step daughter.

From the minute they’d met, Keanu had found himself urging resistance, he loved his fiancée, he did. Caroline. She was a notable, and incredibly talented designer and they’d met when the fashion house she worked with had sourced him as the face of their fall line. Falling for hadn’t been instantaneous, instead, they’d spent a few too many nights together and gotten to talking. He’d found something in her, a resting place for his weary soul, a familiarity that had yet to be discovered in anyone else. They were both well travelled, old souls and no matter where they were, as long as they were together, it felt like home. When they’d gotten together, Keanu was positive that he’d never have eyes for another. That was, until he met her daughter.

The spitting image of her mother, thought minus twenty something years in age, Y/n was jaw-droppingly stunning. From the minute she’d walked into the room, that night when she’d returned from a month-long trip to Paris with some of her friends, Keanu found it hard to tear his gaze away. She was magnetic, far more melancholic than her mother and had this sort of dark princess, too moody to be the life of the party kind of vibe. But still, there wasn’t a soul that didn’t gravitate towards her when she entered a room. Y/n was a paradox of sorts, wildly mysterious yet disarmingly charming.

After their initial introduction, just some seven or eight months prior, she’d become a staple of their Malibu household- he and Caroline had agreed that they would move into her place on the beach; it was the one thing she’d held on to after her husband’s untimely passing and where she’d raised her only child. At first, Keanu welcomed the idea, anything for his dear Caroline, though, months later, he was slowly beginning to regret it. Especially when work had taken Caroline to Italy, leaving him to often find Y/n lounging near the poolside, with her model friends and whatever lucky man had been in her good graces at that point.

They never seemed to last; the men, and every time one stopped coming around, Keanu would breathe a sigh of relief. It was ridiculous really, but he’d somehow developed the notion that if he couldn’t have her, no one else should. He wanted her, physically he ached for her, especially after seeing how the scarce fabric of her bikinis would hug her curves. And then to add insult to injury, during the stretch of her mother's absence and the short stint of one of those overly pompous surfer boys, he’d stumbled upon the most vulgar thing on his way to his and Caroline's shared bedroom.

Well, maybe ‘stumbled upon’ might have been too generous. Maybe he’d followed the sounds of strained yelps and heavy grunts all the way to a slightly ajar door that led to Y/n’s bedroom. A peek in had proven to boil his blood upon finding her with her back pressed against the dresser, panties hanging off one of her ankles and her nameless companion jerking her body into the furniture. Part of him was illogically enraged, jealous. But another part had stiffened, hardening in his pants and when he’d found the will to rip his eyes away from the scene, Keanu had stolen to his room, taking himself in his hand after a pumping some lotion from a bottle on the nearby nightstand into his palm, grunting Y/n’s name through clenched teeth as he fucked himself. After that, it was hard to look at Y/n without thinking of what he'd seen, without wishing it had been him with her that afternoon instead.

That night, long after Caroline’s return, when they had made reservations at a nearby restaurant to celebrate the green light on her latest line, Keanu, for a few dear minutes, had been able to give his fiancée his full attention. He wished it could have lasted longer, because every time his mind wandered, it made him feel guilty, but they were just heading out through the front door when Y/n sauntered in, from a hallway off to the side, head down and loose tresses, curtain her face as she secured her phone in her large clutch. She swayed her hips slowly and thin heels thumped quietly on the hardwood. “Sorry,” she breathed absently, not looking at them.

“Glad you decided to join us,” Caroline huffed and unlike Y/n, all Keanu could do was stare. And try to not drool. Her black dress was skin tight, sporting a high slit at her left thigh as if its already lacking hem didn’t boast her smooth legs. Spaghetti straps supported a dangerously low neckline and he had to actively avoid ogling at how her full breasts seemed pushed together. A bright ruby pendant drew attention to her cleavage, while similar stones shone on the ear that she’d tucked some of her hair behind, though, none of the exquisite stones were as deep or dark as her full lips, caught in a perpetual pout.

As she lifted her head, Y/n rolled her eyes, sighing softly as she met her mother’s fallen expression, her own softening as she spoke next, “I said I was sorry,” Y/n sighed again, approaching her mother and seemingly ignoring him at her side. As Y/n leaned in to peck Caroline’s cheek though, her bare arm brushed his, and Keanu could have sworn electricity passed between them. “You know I wouldn’t miss this mom, it’s important to you.”

“I know,” Caroline smiled softly, slipping her arm into Keanu’s, “Isn’t Shane joining us?” She inquired absently as the slipped through the front door, the steps illumined by yellow, glowing porch lights.

Scoffing, Keanu barely missed the way Y/n brushed some hair out of her face as she did. “He’s…..we’re done.”

“So soon?” Keanu was the one who spoke up that time, his interest peaked. Shane had been around for longer than the others. They’d actually met him and Caroline seemed to like him well enough for her daughter.

“Mm hmm,” Y/n hummed, being the first to get into the back of the black, heavily tinted sedan so he and her mother could sit together, “He was boring.” She never came off as one interested in offering many words, and as far back as Keanu remembered, they’d only had a handful of full conversations. If it weren’t for Caroline telling him, he wouldn’t have even known that she had a job outside of lounging by the pool almost everyday; she was a fashion curator, whatever that meant.

“He’s a doctor!” Caroline defended, knitting her brows, “A doctor for Doctors Without Borders, what’s so boring about that?”

Shifting so she could look out the window, Y/n propped her chin on her hand, her elbow stationed on the door, “I don’t know,” she shrugged half heartedly, already off in her own world, “He just was.”

Keanu threw Caroline, who’d realized that Y/n wasn’t really entertained by the conversation, a sympathetic look, effectively hiding his satisfaction with how unattached her daughter was. “Alright dear,” she gnawed on her lower lip and Keanu affectionately squeezed her hand in his, “Whatever you say.”

Vacantly, Y/n stared at her half finished meal, fork held loosely between her fingers. Occasionally, when she’d raise her head to take a sip of her wine, she’d meet the sight of her mother leaning into Keanu’s embrace as they shared innocent pecks ever so often. She liked seeing her mother happy, it had been years since her father’s passing after all, and Keanu was the first person she’d let get that close, but despite it all, Y/n was still jealous. Not jealous of her happiness, but really, who she'd found happiness with; Keanu.

He was smolderingly attractive; the specs of salt in his beard, the dark locks falling perfectly over his rugged features, his broad shoulders and towering stature. Y/n could see the appeal, and she could see it well enough to want her chance at him. It was twisted, immature and he should have been off limits, but there was just something about his rich pools of whiskey that sent shivers up her spine when he laid eyes on her. And Y/n went out of her way to make sure he laid eyes on her.

It was particularly hard either; half her time back at the house was spent in a swimsuit anyway, and she’d been especially sure to wear her skimpiest pieces when she knew for sure that he'd be out on the balcony for his late night smoke. It wasn't overtly obvious, but Y/n could tell her efforts were paying off. Sometimes, depending on what she was wearing and if they were alone in a room, she could feel his eyes following her around, and then, there were some more…….unsavory things that she'd been privy to.

It had never been Y/n's intention to hurt her mother, or steal her boyfriend, but who could resist a man as magnificent. Keanu was every girl's wet dream, older, hunky and no doubt experienced, in all respects. Besides, it wasn't like she was trying to snatch him away forever, at most, she wanted to show him a good time, what her girl her age could do before he and her mom got hitched.

Speaking of the wedding.

"Y/n?" Her mother roused her attention, just as her eyes had started straying towards the ocean view offered through the window, "I’ve waiting to ask you something when we were all together, as a family," Caroline reached across the table for her daughter's hand, "I know that we haven’t been as close as we used to be before you left for college. But you're still my daughter, my little ballerina," at the words, Y/n blushed, memories of a simpler time flashing across her mind, "And I'd love it if you'd be my maid of honor."

Widening her eyes, Y/n's jaw slacked, "Mom…..I'd be honored." Mustering up a smile and doing her best to ignore Keanu. That moment wasn't about him, it was about her and her mother.

"Really?" Caroline cooed giddily, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. For a split second, a pang of guilt stabbed at her chest. Her mother was marrying Keanu. Her mother who'd sworn off dating after a horrible accident vowed her a single parent. Her mother, who'd taken her around the world as a child, along with an armory of private tutors, just so Y/n could have the best of both worlds. Her mother, and there she was, trying to seduce her fiancé. How ungrateful could she be?

Chuckling fondly, Y/n tilted her head, "Of course mom, I'd love to be your maid of honor."

"Oh! I'm so happy to hear that," Caroline sniffled, "Keanu can tell you, I've been meaning to ask since you got back. But we hadn't even started planning the wedding yet, and then I had to go to Italy and I didn't just want to spring it on you either," her smile faltered, and Y/n knew where her mother was going with that, "I know that it's been almost fifteen years, but I didn't want you to think that I'm marrying Keanu to replace your father."

The memories of him stung and Y/n had to clench her jaw as she shook her head, "I know. It's been…..a long time, since he…...doesn't matter," clearing her throat, Y/n was suddenly fighting tears, "You deserve to have love again."

"Y/n's right sweetheart," Keanu pecked the top of her mother's head, "And I'm so happy that I'm the only that gets to love you."

Even if she'd just reprimanded herself, seeing Keanu coddle her mother was still a bit annoying, and coupled with the barrage of memories shared with her late father, Y/n was starting to get the feeling that the walls were closing in on her. She needed air, fast. "Excuse me," the chair scraped the tiles noisily as she stood abruptly, discarding her napkin next to her plate on the table, "I think I'm gonna go for a walk, get some fresh air."

As she stalked off hurriedly, Y/n could hear her mother calling after her, asking if she was okay. But the last thing Y/n wanted to do was talk about it and, as she broke through the glass doors of the establishment, sea breeze blasting her face and the sound of waves crashing against the shore filling her hearts, she sighed heavily, grateful to finally be alone with her thoughts.

Replaying the past in her head, like the best parts of a movie on repeat, Y/n walked slowly along the sand dusted wooden pathway tucked against the side of the restaurant. The area was barren of all other life, and dark void of any other lighting besides what was offered by the twinkling night sky. Usually, she supposed the area was used by workers who wanted to escape the bustle without being caught, but that night, it was perfect for a young girl seeking to escape her reality.

If only for a very short while.

"Is everything okay?" A painfully familiar baritone pierced her thoughts, causing Y/n to turn around as face Keanu. His features were shrouded by the dimness, but she could identify the outline of his frame almost immediately, marveling at how much bigger he looked under the cover of the shadows.

Blinking away her tears, thankful that he could not see her glassy eyes, Y/n nodded stiffly, "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

Shrugging, Keanu took a couple steps forward, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "You ran out of there pretty quickly," he nudged towards the restaurant, "Your mom wanted to come talk to you, but I offered to do it instead?"

"Yeah?" A sly smile broke through without her permission, and Y/n folded her arms, leaning against the sturdy guard rail, "Why?"

"I just think it's important for us to be able to have these kinds of conversations, I'm marrying your mother in a few months after all," his words seemed to shake and Y/n was beginning to wonder if concern for her was what had brought him out there. As much as people wanted to believe it, she knew that Keanu was hardly a saint.

"You're right," Y/n teased, subtly inching closer. Any trace of guilt she'd harbored was gone from the minute he'd called out to her. Maybe he should have stayed inside if he wanted to keep up the good guy persona, and maybe, just maybe, Y/n was a little too used to getting want she wanted. "Soon you're gonna be like…..my daddy," raising her brows, she snatched her lower lip between her teeth, "My step daddy," sure enough, she enunciated the word, ensuring that it dripped with seduction.

"So that's why you came out here?" Keanu scoffed, shaking his head and clearly trying to hide his smirk, "You know, you're not as innocent as your mother thinks you are."

Throwing her head back, Y/n chortled, the sound smooth like a full-bodied red, "I never claimed to be, or tired," shaking her shoulder, she was eventually looking at him again, dark, lustrous gaze unwavering, "You on the other hand…..you might have her fooled. Hell, you might have everyone fooled, except for me."

Licking his lips, Keanu hesitated before humoring her, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't act so coy," Y/n dismissed with a wave of her jewel adorned hand, "Tell me Keanu," she closed the distance between them, leaving a weak few inches between their bodies, "Do you always call my name when you fuck yourself?"

He knew exactly what she was talking about and Y/n could tell. She'd heard him that day, even when the door muffling her words, in particular, had rang through clearly; her name as he came sloppy all over his fingers. "You heard that?" He breathed hoarsely.

"And so much more," Y/n fingers lightly trailed the zipper of his leather jacket, and she gazed up at him through her thick lashes, daring him to make the next move. "Wouldn't you like to feel the real thing?" Y/n hummed, "See if I'm as tight as you're imagining."

"You're a bad girl," he mused, his warm palms ghosting her hips, as if he was scared that touching her would solidify the act. Still, he worked against conscience, "Say it again," he urged, "Call me that again."

Quelling a mischievous soiree, Y/n laid her free hand on his bicep, discarding her last shred of rationality, which screamed that she was possibly among the worst in the world, "Daddy," she purred. "How often do you think about fucking me, Daddy?"

"Too often," he growled, hastily shoving Y/n against the wall. "You walk around in those tiny outfits, like some kind of little slut. And you let frat boys fuck you with the door open. You're practically asking for it."

"And what are you gonna do about that?" Keanu had already hoisted her up, one of Y/n's legs hooking around his hip while the other laid limp. Her arms looped his neck as their proximity had allowed for her breast to be pressed against his chest as she kept a hand planted on her ass.

"I'm gonna give it to you sweetheart," he nipped at her neck, carefully avoiding any marks, "I wanna be a good Daddy."

"Fuck," a lewd moan escaped her lips, and the feeling of his hard-on pressed against her inner thigh was enough to drench her panties. Keanu merely felt deliciously big. When he nipped on her skin, dragging his teeth as he pulled away, she clutched his bulky arms, nails sinking into the soft leather of his coat. Y/n’s body arched into his as she threw her head back, and Keanu’s hands slipped beneath the hem of her dress, the fabric bunching up at her waist as he roamed her body. “I want you,” she whispered huskily, shutting her eyes and lolling her head back against the wall.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he mumbled, pawing at her ass, kneading and squeezing the firm flesh roughly. Wasting no more time, he shoved her panties away, setting Y/n back on the ground so they could slip down her legs and fall in a sparse pool of racy navy lace at her feet. As Y/n nudged them away with the tip of her stiletto, Keanu got started on the buckle of his belt, aided by her lithe fingers.

“What if someone sees us?” She probed, finding the zipper of his jeans and then reaching inside his pants to palm his hardened cock through his boxers, grinning wickedly at its undeniable girth.

“Look around baby, no ones gonna see a damn thing,” he offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “We just gotta be quick.”

Hissing loudly as she squeezed, Keanu bucked into her touch, groaning languidly when she rubbed her thumb over his cotton clad head. “Then what are you waiting for Daddy? We haven’t got all night.”

“You’re right,” he snarled, hastily collecting her in his strong arms once again, shoving her against the wall, situating himself between her spread legs. Temporarily, he clumsily squeezed one hand between their heated bodies, pushing down his underwear and freeing his cock. “You ready?” Keanu’s rumbling words didn’t await permission before he jerked into Y/n’s dripping cunt, her response reduced to hitched cry. Immediately, she could feel his veins bulging against her sensitive walls, and the slight curve of his shaft reached so deep she could have sworn she felt him in her stomach. “You cunt’s so tight babygirl, perfect for Daddy’s cock.”

The feeling of Keanu nestled in her drenched sex, his pace steady and guiding, while still bordering intense rabidity, had Y/n gasping for breath, not caring if the salty air would assault her senses. His cock expended her, almost to the point of creating the most pleasurable burn, and his bruising grip on her waist, the only thing supporting her, was like electricity. Desperate to touch him, Y/n clawed at his t-shirt, barely aware that ripping it would be an unexplainable disaster. Though, her patience quickly wore thin and she resorted to sliding her hands down the neck of his t-shirt, reaching for his back.

Keanu’s tongue, dancing around hers, tasted of the beer he’d been having with dinner, and that, coupled with the lingering Merlot on her tongue was astoundingly intoxicating. The act, the danger of being caught, its depraved immorality, was so sweet that it was drunkening. The feel of Keanu drilling into her, leading her to the threshold of sweet release was far above anything she’d ever felt. The top of his jeans, lowered only enough to allow their sin, chafed the underside of Y/n’s thighs, the friction only adding to the unmatched sensation.

“Oh fuck!” She rasped, sinking her nails into his shoulders, the words swallowed eagerly by Keanu as he rolled his hips aggressively, knowing that they didn’t have much time.

“No marks,” he managed, pulling away and pressing her nose to Y/n’s. Shrugging hastily, Keanu tried to nudge her hands off, “She can’t know.” Barely registering his words, Y/n still loosened her grip, sliding one of her hands up to disturb the neatness of his hair. Around his hips, her legs tightened, consequently restricting his pace even as she breathlessly mumbled broken pleas for him to go faster.

As Y/n’s nails scratched his scalp, one of Keanu’s rough palms deserted her hip, roaming her side, yanking down one of the thin, delicate straps of her silky dress down her arm, freeing one of her breasts so he could grope it eagerly, between moments spent rolling her pebbled nipple between his thumb and pointer. Struggling to buck her hips to meet his, Y/n could quickly feel the last threads holding her coherence together getting ready to snap. “I’m gonna…..” Y/n threw her head back, cool night air combating the heat seeping to the surface of her skin. An indecorous cry parted her lips, and she barely got the words out, “I’m close.”

“The come for me,” Keanu gritted, baring his teeth as he buried his face in the crook of Y/n’s neck, “Come all over Daddy’s cock, baby.”

Under the witness of the navy cloak, speckled with twinkling specs of white, and to the melody of foamy water sloshing beneath their shaky feet, the broil in Y/n’s stomach overflowed explosively. Stars, much like the ones teasing them from above, danced on her blurred vision as a rush of slick moisture coated their thighs, bathing Keanu’s swollen member. As she clenched around him, her legs losing sensation, Y/n felt him slow down, his thrusts rigid as Keanu revealed in the feeling.

A vulgar grunt joined their sounds, ending with a series of hitched breaths as Keanu shot generous, hot bursts of his product inside her, coating her slick walls as excess dripped between them. Sloppily and without rhythm, he rode out both their highs, his movements only slowing down almost completely as they came down.

Stumbling back as he pulled out, Keanu braved himself on the banister, catching his breath. Y/n, still disheveled, slouched against the wall, eyeing Keanu intensely as her chest heaved with deep, heavy breaths. The lingering exhilaration roused the tried smile from her and leaning her head back, Y/n let her eyes slip closed.

"We need to head back inside," Keanu declared, putting himself back together. "Tell you what," he beamed wickedly, bending near Y/n's feet to collect her discarded panties off the floor, "I'll keep these," he crumpled her thong, shoving it into his back pocket, "And you can keep this," without warning, he tossed her the same handkerchief he'd used to hurriedly wipe away the evidence from his thighs.

Before Y/n could even sum up a witty response, still in the process of rearranging her dress, Keanu was adjusting his jacket and running corrective fingers through his full, dark mane. "Don't take too long, alright?" He set off for the side entrance, "See you inside Kid."

As he neared their table, nearer to the cost booths and situated perfectly under the intimate lighting, Keanu watched as Caroline lifted her head, a worried, yet hopeful smile etched across her lovely features. He loved her. "Sweetheart," he bent, pecking her cheek quickly before settling in the chair next to her. As he did, a wave of guilt, incomparable to anything he'd ever felt before then, washed over him. He'd betrayed her, the woman he was going to marry, with no other but her own child.

"Is everything okay?" She probed gently and when Caroline looked at him, with those familiar eyes so full of love, Keanu felt like he was bare naked and blasted with frigid air.

"Yeah," he gestured elaborately with hands, trying to suppress his muddled feelings, "Yeah, why?"

"Well my daughter left in the middle of dinner and practically ran out of the restaurant and you told me you were gonna talk to her. So I'm just wondering how it went," Keanu knew it wasn't her intention, Caroline trusted him, even if he didn't deserve her trust, but every question was suddenly an interrogation, a witch hunt for the truth.

Sucking in a breath, the feel of her against him, her part breasts to his chest, the warmth between her silken legs, the taste of her skin, it all came back to him in a rush, as if he were still out there with Y/n, losing himself in the pleasure. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman that age, and with the experience he'd had then, the thrill was exalting. He wanted it- her again. But he shouldn't have had her at all. "It was good," he cleared his throat reaching for his beer in hopes of swallowing the lump in his throat. "We had a nice-"

Before he could finish, Y/n was approaching the table with a cool confidence that suggested that nothing out of turn had transpired between them. When she sat though, even if Caroline was completely oblivious, a heavy tension befell their table. "I'm back," she declared with a soft giggle, hiding one of her hands, presumably the one with his kerchief, under the table.

"You are, Keanu was just telling me that you two talked things through. And sweetie, I just want to apologize, I shouldn’t have brought him up, I know you don’t like to talk about your father,” reaching across the table, Caroline took her hand and Keanu noted how Y/n stiffened, actively avoiding him.

“I should be the one apologizing mom,” Y/n inhaled audibly, her feigned smile faltering, Y/n turned her hand over so she’d have a loose hold on her mother’s manicured fingers, “I’m sorry, about just leaving like that earlier,” for the first time since she sat down, Y/n glanced at Keanu, and he found guilt reflected in her eyes, with something else lingering beneath, desire perhaps. He held her gaze, for a little longer than he was supposed to, and Y/n was eventually the one to turn away, guarding herself as she fixed her attention on her mother once again, “I’m sorry mom.”

*****

Tagging- @crybbyren @cynic-spirit @imagine-the-fanfics

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x y/n #keau reeves fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #stepdaddy #au

160 notes · View notes

ddaengtae · 3 years

Text

in the in-between || bbh

pairing: byun baekhyun x reader

genre: friends to lovers, new year’s eve!au, slight angst, fluff

word count: 7.4k

summary: you had never been a fan of new year’s eve. something about the illusion that once the clock struck midnight, the past would be behind you and everything would change for the better never sat right with you because it never turned out to be true. yet every year, the holiday provided a sense of false hope that maybe this year, things would be different. maybe this year things would change between you and baekhyun for once and for all.

a/n: well i finally pushed myself to write something after nearly 5 months and the result turned out to be none of my initial ideas and very mild compared to what i’ve written before. not totally content w it but it is progress and it is complete!! it’s been a bit so my writing is a little rusty, but happy new year everyone and i hope you enjoy. :)

There had always been something rather paradoxical about the concept of celebrating the brink of a New Year to you. The night of New Year’s Eve itself was at conflict with itself; the idea was to cheers to leaving the past behind, but doing so often led to much indulging in nostalgic memories of the exact year that everyone was aching to leave behind. The premise had always been to throw one last grand celebration to celebrate the accomplishments of the past 365 days and drown out all of the past sorrows with some deafening music and a bit too much to drink. After one last hurrah surrounded by the ones you love most and an alcohol coma bound to keep you knocked out until the next afternoon, the blanket assumption was that all would start anew and everyone would at last conquer their greatest fears and commence accomplishing all of the things that they had been putting on hold for far too long.

Yet every year it felt like a sham to you. Too many January 1sts had you woken up with a mind-numbing hangover and the overall sense that despite all you had pledged to change the night before, everything still felt precisely as it had in the previous year. Sure, you and everyone around you would follow their lackluster resolutions of going to the gym more or eating healthier for a month or so, but once the pressure and urgency died down, so did the effort. In the end, there was no substantial change. It was almost like being stuck in a gridlock; despite wanting out and craving for something more, you could never bring yourself out of the stalemate. Maybe your typical resolutions were too safe. Maybe you were just too secure remaining in the cozy comfort zone you had resided in for most of your life. Regardless of reasoning, New Year’s Eve had always felt like a sort of in-between dimension; a place where both the past and future existed both at peace and in conflict of each other for just one night, and a space where they both could be deemed as of the utmost importance or a pointless memory of the past.

“If your New Year’s resolution is to be the life of the party, you’re going to be off to a bad start,” a sarcastic chide and a bubbly laugh broke you out of your lonesome philosophical pondering. It was only once a shoulder was playfully nudged against your own bare arm that you snapped out of your trance and realized that you had been standing in the abandoned kitchen for long enough to be noticeable, cradling a half-downed glass of champagne in one hand and your cracked cell phone in the other. It was only then that you noticed Baekhyun popping your personal bubble and bringing you back to reality.

Baekhyun. How ironic for it to be him of all people to interrupt your contradictory New Year’s Eve stupor when your relationship with him was perhaps the best analogy of all for your perspective on the holiday. The pair of you had felt an immediate connection upon being placed in the same orientation group your freshman year of college years prior; the effortless way your personalities molded together and the jokes bounced back and forth nearly diminished all of your anxiety of fitting in and making friends in a new environment. From that day forward, the two of you, as well as the extended group of friends you accumulated with time, stuck together through failed tests, heartbreaks, job offers, and all of the other highs and lows of life as confused university students. Miraculously, you had made it to graduation in one piece and both managed to land jobs and apartments in the same university city along with many of your other friends. Miraculously, the two of you were still friends. Just friends.

The dynamic of your relationship with Baekhyun, like New Year’s Eve, always existed as a sort of in-between. What it was in between, that you were not completely sure of. One thing was for certain: you were friends and always had been. Friends who could tell each other just about anything. Friends who helped each other pick out their outfits for the night, and then assisted one another in getting out of them if one of you happened to have a bit too much to drink that night. Friends who stared at each other, perhaps longingly, for just too long when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Friends who joked around and touched each other constantly in a way that could only be described as flirting. Friends who had “accidentally” kissed-- nay, made out-- more than once when under the influence. Friends, but also not just friends. Not just friends, but not anything more than friends. It was yet another frustrating in-between that had never been resolved over the years, and one that you believed at this point never would be.

Downing the rest of your glass of room temperature champagne, you placed the empty cup down on the kitchen counter of Baekhyun’s apartment and raised an eyebrow at the bleach-blonde-haired boy beside you. “Well, if it’s your resolution to be more obnoxious and invasive of my space, then congrats. It’s not even midnight yet and you’re already off to a great start.”

Letting out a scoff, Baekhyun turned to face the counter and slowly re-filled your empty champagne glass with one of the many opened bottles remaining on the counter. It was evident from his shaky hands and the way the liquid splashed over the rim of the glass that he too had already had quite a bit to drink. “I haven’t been able to talk to you all night and now that I am, you choose violence? In my own home? Disrespectful.”

Offering him a half smirk, you reached to ruffle his hair with your free hand. “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

“Oh, the heat?” Baekhyun’s lips twitched upward and his smirk was soon matching your own. “Is it because you’re hot? Because I can get behind that.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks as you shoved his shoulder with the heel of your hand. It was the alcohol causing your flush, you told yourself. There was no need to feel flustered by his meaningless flirtation after all of this time. “You’re unbearable.”

Baekhyun flashed you a toothy grin, his eyes remaining on yours just long enough to make you feel even more jittery. There seemed to be a sense of warmth, or even admiration, in his eyes as he stared at you, his once beaming expression slowly morphing into a more pensive one. “Mmm, maybe I am.” Reaching forward, he nonchalantly-- too nonchalantly-- tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “No, but I’m actually curious. Do you have any resolutions this year?”

All you wanted to do was melt into the warm touch of his hand as it brushed against your cheek, but it was gone before you could indulge too deep into that fantasy. Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Probably just the usual… Make more time for the gym, be more organized… Stuff like that.”

Clearly not impressed with the cookie-cutter answer you provided him with, Baekhyun shook his head as he retrieved one of the nearly-full bottles of champagne off of the countertop and took a swig directly from the source. “I don’t mean that sort of resolution. I mean the type that you tell yourself deep down, the important type, that you usually don’t tell anyone.”

Of course that’s what he meant. And of course you had thought of one, but it struck a little too close to home to feel completely comfortable sharing. It struck a little too close to him.

Wanting to stall for more time and also needing to make your nerves less obvious to the boy standing in front of you, you tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean? Can you give me an example?”

Placing the glass bottle back on the counter, Baekhyun stared down at his feet for a few moments before nodding his head. By the way his teeth dug into his lower lip you almost would have sworn he looked nervous, but the expression was gone before you could dwell upon it and overthink as you always did. It was only once he urged you closer and leaned towards your ear that you realized just how loud the music and other voices were booming in the adjacent room and just how close the pair of you were despite the kitchen being quite spacious. He leaned in as if though he feared that others would hear him, but you were aware that such a thing would be impossible with the volume in the other room. Instead, his warm body barely grazing against yours and his breath against your ear created a feeling of intimacy that had your stomach in knots. Clearly his throat, he slowly spoke, “Yeah, I have one. It’s kind of a lot… But it’s to be more open and honest with the people around me.” He paused for a moment, his fingers mindlessly playing with the hem of your shirt as his hand rested just above your hip. “I’ve started to come to terms with the fact that I tend to use humor to cover up my real emotions a lot, and I think it’s fucked up the potential of a lot of great things for me.”

Well that was a lot more than you expected. Despite your mind telling you to stop and that it wouldn’t be healthy, you found yourself instantly trying to pick apart the possible deeper implications behind his words. What potentially great things was he referring to? He tended to joke around with you a lot, even in serious situations, so could this possibly have anything to do with you? Baekhyun had always been the straightforward type when it came to most of his relationships, so although it was highly unlikely, you found yourself fixated on the possibility of his resolution existing because of you. A girl-- especially one with champagne flowing through her veins-- could dream for a moment.

Realizing that you had remained silent for perhaps a bit too long, you at last nodded your head and smiled slightly. “I think it’s great that you recognize that about yourself and want to work on it. I love your humor, but you shouldn’t let it get in the way of anything important.” Pausing for a moment, you realized that it was now your turn to share. After Baekhyun’s deep and honest confession, it was only fair that you told him yours. Another hefty sip of champagne reassured you that the tipsy boy standing in front of you would never read too deep into your resolution and realize that it applied to him. “Well, my main one is probably to be a bit bolder and to stop letting my fears hold me back. It’s kind of like yours but instead of humor, it’s just me constantly getting in my head and talking me out of pursuing what could be some incredible things that I’m missing out on. I would hate to live my life and find out later that some of the peop-- things-- I want in life could have been easily attainable if I had just been brave for like… A few seconds.”

If your eyes hadn’t been so busy tracing the tiles on the kitchen floor, maybe you would have noticed the look of absolute adoration in Baekhyun’s eyes as he stared at your face as you spoke. It was only once his arms engulfed you in a warm hug and his chin pressed against the top of your head that you were snapped back into the present moment. “Thank you for trusting me with that,” he mumbled into your hair, his proximity never being something you could grow accustomed to. “Just know that I’ll always be here for you to push you through your fears.” After a brief pause, he pulled back to examine your face, a warm smile stretched across his lips as his hands remained clenched around your arms. “I mean, you’re not afraid of me, right?”

He could not have picked a more ironic question to ask if he had tried. It took every ounce of control remaining in your drunken system to force down the laugh that threatened to push through your glossed lips. Were you afraid of him? Of course not. Were you afraid of exposing your feelings to him and having it ruin everything you two had created over the years? Absolutely terrified. Maybe you would tell him eventually. Maybe you would follow through with the true intent behind your resolution in the new year, but for now, you were for once enjoying the in-betweenness of the holiday because it simply meant that you would not have to address your fears just yet. Instead, for now, you allowed yourself to respond, “Of course not, Baek. You’re like a… Marshmallow.”

Baekhyun feigned offense and gently pushed you away from him. “A marshmallow? Of all things... Are you trying to tell me that I should add working out more to my resolutions?”

The anxiety finally washed away for a moment as you giggled at his baffled expression, shaking your head. “No, no. It’s just the first least-threatening thing that came to mind.”

“Oh, I can be threatening.” Puffing out his chest, he made a valiant effort to flex his muscle through his rather thick sweater. When he earned another giggle from you, his eyes shifted over to the other much-more-lively room. “Well, now that we’ve shared our deepest, darkest secrets for the night, will you please accompany me back into the real party? It’s painful without you in there.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you grimaced as you caught sight of Chanyeol attempting to shotgun a beer like he was still in college, and groaning as much of the liquid splattered over his white t-shirt. Shaking your head, you turned back to Baekhyun. “I’ll meet you in there in a few minutes… It’s only 10:30 anyway.”

Instead of simply nodding and leaving you to your own devices, Baekhyun remained still, except for his eyes that studied your expression. After leaving you to awkwardly sway from foot to foot and swallow the nervous lump in your throat, he at last verbalized his thoughts. “You never liked New Year’s Eve, huh?”

Blinking in surprise, it was your turn to become completely frozen in place. Sure, he was right, but you had never vocalized your distaste for the holiday. Additionally, you always believed you did a stand-up job at making all of your friends believe that you were having the time of your life each year. Sure, you would sneak out to the kitchen to catch a breather a few times, but you always ensured you were smiling and keeping up with the crowd when it came to socializing and drinking. It unnerved you that despite your best efforts, Baekhyun still managed to see through the facade. What else did he know about you that you thought you had kept secret?

Sucking in a sharp breath, you decided to be honest. “I mean, you’re not wrong… I’m just surprised you noticed.”

Pressing his tongue into the inside of his cheek, he nodded slowly. “You do this thing where you smile wider when you’re sad, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. I’ve noticed it happens a lot on this day.”

The sincerity of his words had the lump you had just swallowed returning back to its righteous spot in your throat. The fact that he had noticed such a subtle habit of yours and thought about it enough to connect it to how you were feeling had you feeling oddly emotional, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you decided to use Baekhyun’s own coping mechanism against him to carry on, even if it would internally resurrect some of your past feelings of jealousy and sadness. “I have no idea how you would even notice that… You’re usually shoving your tongue down someone’s throat at midnight or passed out in a drunken slumber on the floor before the ball even drops.” To your relief, you were able to force a quiet laugh through your lips.

“Stoppp. I’m not usually like that.” Baekhyun visibly cringed at your words, lifting a hand to cover half of his face in shame. When you raised an eyebrow at him, he dropped his hand and gently grabbed one of your own. “But I’m serious. You’re my top priority and I want my top priority to be happy.”

“I am happy,” you replied a bit too quickly, giving his hand a squeeze before dropping it in fear that he would feel the perspiration on your palm. Keeping his recent words in mind, you twisted your lips into a smile and squinted your eyes a bit in hopes he would mistake your expression as genuine. “And I want you to be happy too, so let’s go enjoy the party.”

“Lead the way.”

Somewhere around 11:40, you lost Baekhyun. After a rather enjoyable hour of catching up with old friends and consuming your body weight in food and alcohol, the blonde-haired boy slipped away through the dozens of people until he was out of your sight. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal; the two of you had separated numerous times within the hour to indulge in conversations with other people or to grab refreshments.

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, but the closer the clock ticked to midnight, the more you found yourself preoccupied with Baekhyun’s absence. With each minute that passed, you became more and more frustrated with yourself for being so fixated on the lack of his presence despite being in the middle of a lively party surrounded by so many of your other loved ones. Sure, Chanyeol and a couple of your other girlfriends had also gone missing, but all you could focus on was where Baekhyun had gone. This wasn’t the first New Year’s Eve he had disappeared shortly before the new year rolled around. In fact, as you sat alone on the couch as everyone around you counted down from ten, you were overwhelmed with a sense of sickening deja-vu.

As loud cheers and embraces of arms and lips around you signalled that it was at last midnight, it was then that you decided that this moment was why you despised the holiday so much. It was the in-betweenness of New Year’s Eve that allowed you to hold onto an imagination of false hope that perhaps, things would be different this year. Maybe at last the drive for a new beginning would thrust you out of the in-between stalemate that you had existed in for so long and propel you to confront all of the things your fears had been preventing you from doing for so long. However, as the ball dropped and the television screen filled with fireworks and confetti, you were reminded of your solitary state and that the holiday was simply a superficial deception of change. The state of in-between was no longer and you were pushed back to square one.

“You alright?” a quiet voice broke you out of your trance. Sat beside you on the couch was a concerned-looking Kyungsoo with an empty glass of wine resting on his thigh.

Clearing your throat, you nodded your head and curled your lips into a half-smile for your friend. “Yeah, just sleepy. I think I’m going to head out soon.”

Scanning you up and down more than once as if to assess the truthfulness behind your statement, he at last nodded and rose to his feet, extending a hand out to you. “Me too. I’ll walk back with you.”

Hesitating for just a moment, you eventually reached for his hand and allowed him to pull you into a standing position. While you would have preferred to endeavor on the short walk back to your apartment building alone, you knew your friends would kill you if they found out you were all alone so late and that it would be much safer to do so accompanied by someone else. Besides, Kyungsoo lived in the same building and he was also the least likely to probe you with too many questions or unnecessary conversation.

The two of you fell into a common rhythm of saying your goodbyes to your friends and grabbing your belongings before meeting at the door. After one last glance over your shoulder to see if Baekhyun had reemerged to no avail, you nodded your head at Kyungsoo to signal that you were ready to go. With one last wave, you shut the door behind you and the loud music and voices were at last a muffled thing of the past.

After escaping the apartment building, you and Kyungsoo fell into a comfortable cadence, the speed of your strides matched in urgency due to the crisp winter air biting at the parts of your skin that were exposed after being enveloped in a warm space for so long. A relaxed yet curious silence settled over you two; while you were friendly enough with Kyungsoo to know that he resented unnecessary small talk, you couldn’t help but notice the way he kept glancing at you out of the corner of your eye as if though to check that you were alright.

The collective quiet lingered all the way until you paced inside your shared apartment complex, brushing the dusting of snow off of your arms as you followed Kyungsoo into the elevator. Once it began to ascend, Kyungsoo asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Pretending to be occupied with unzipping your winter coat, you avoided his concerned stare. Although you were well aware that the attentive boy would see right through you, you still feigned ignorance and responded, “Talk about what?”

A stifled laugh slipped through Kyungsoo’s lips as he shook his head at you. “You know what I’m talking about, Y/N…” Reaching over, he brushed a speck of remaining snow off of your shoulder. “I’m not saying that you have to talk about it with me, but it hasn’t seemed to do you too much good keeping it in for all this time.”

Finally allowing yourself to meet his eyes, you let out a breath you hadn’t even noticed you were holding in. Kyungsoo knew about your feelings for Baekhyun. You had drunkenly confessed your deepest secrets to him at one of your wine and movie nights last year, to which the pensive boy merely smiled and told you that it was ‘obvious.’ He had done an honorable job at keeping your secret thus far, only urging you every once in a while to set your fears aside and go for it (obviously without much success). Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest as the elevator came to a halt at your floor. “If it was going to happen at this point, it would’ve already happened a long time ago.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he objected, extending his arm to hold open the elevator door for you. “You can’t expect things to happen if you’re not straightforward.” Ah, the ever so logical Kyungsoo was back at it again.

“That’s easy enough for you to say,” you huffed, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your coat as you stepped out of the elevator. “Don’t worry about me… I’ll be fine.”

“I mean, you especially have to be direct when you’re dealing with someone who is as big of a dumbass as Baekhyun is.” Kyungsoo smirked to himself, obviously amused by his own jab at his long-time friend. His hand remained on the opening of the elevator as he watched you exit from inside. “But seriously, are you alright?”

Stepping into the dim light of the hallway, you playfully rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, I’m alright. Goodnight, Kyungsoo.”

“Okay, okay. Goodnight, Y/N.” With one last smile and wave, Kyungsoo allowed the elevator to close and left you alone with your incessant thoughts.

As you walked down the foyer toward your apartment at the end of the hallway, you couldn’t help but scoff at the tacky ‘new year, new me’ sign surrounded by confetti obnoxiously plastered onto one of your neighbor’s doors, vibrations of loud music emitting from under their door.

There was nothing new at all about this year. While the passing of the eve also swept away the hope that comes along with the in-betweenness of the day, it dawned upon you that maybe some things just weren’t meant to be and that perhaps moving on would be the only way to officially break out of the stalemate you had been stuck in for far too long.

It wasn’t clear how long you had been asleep for. One moment you were in the blissful world of your dreams atop your plush cloud of the bed, and the next you were suddenly jolted awake by a ceaseless banging noise seemingly coming from outside of your apartment. When you were finally brought back to your senses, the light splashing through the blinds suggested that you had in fact been asleep for much longer than you originally believed. The moment your eyes landed on the clock on your nightstand and saw the numbers ‘11:44am’ etched into the clock, you shot to your feet and were confronted with your unruly appearance in the mirror. Sure, you had managed to take a shower and change before you climbed into bed the night prior, but the disheveled state of your hair proposed that it had been a rocky night of sleep.

The banging at the door, which you were finally able to identify was coming from outside of your door, continued and shook you further out of your tired fog. Who the fuck needed to see you so urgently right now? Sure it was nearly noon, but in your defense, you hadn’t remembered making plans with anyone and New Year’s Day was an internationally recognized hangover-recovery day.

Letting out a huff, you slipped the pair of sweatpants hanging off the side of your bed over your underwear-clad legs and threw your mess of a hair into a bun on the top of your head before stomping out of your room and towards the entrance of your apartment. Without bothering to look through the peephole, you swung the door open with a frustrated pull.

There before you stood a flustered-looking Baekhyun, a tray holding two coffees held in one palm and a box of what you deemed to be doughnuts balanced on that same arm. His other hand was still raised in a fist as if he was about to pound on the door once more. When he finally registered that you had opened the door and acknowledged his presence, his lips twisted upward into a small small. A smile that almost looked embarrassed… Or nervous. “Hi, Y/N.”

Raising an eyebrow, you rubbed your eyes and scanned him up and down once more. What the fuck was he doing here? There was no way that you two had made plans and you had already forgotten. You knew you weren’t that drunk when you were in his presence last night. God, if it was your plan to get over him this year, you certainly were not off to a good start. “Uh, come in…” you finally said, opening the door a bit wider and beckoning him with a nod of your head to follow you. Once he followed you into the kitchen and set his belongings down on the counter, you crossed your arms over your chest and turned to him. “Not to be rude… But also kind of to be rude… What are you doing here?”

“Well, I texted you and tried to call you like ten times to let you know that I would be stopping by, but somebody didn’t answer.” Shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders, he occupied himself with hanging it on the back of one of the chairs. “I brought coffee and doughnuts… I bumped into Kyungsoo in the lobby and he stole one of them, but I made sure he didn’t take any of the chocolate ones because I know those are your favorite.”

Keeping your eyes on him as you slowly opened the box and picked out one of the chocolate glazed doughnuts, you tried to study the unreadable expression on his face. Something was off. He usually exuded an almost childlike glow and enthusiasm that radiated through his body language and words, but it was absent at the moment. Instead, the way his eyes refused to meet yours and the way he was rocking back and forth on his heels made you think that something was wrong. After taking a bite of the doughnut, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Okay, thank you. Now tell me why you’re really here.” You glanced back down at the opened box of doughnuts. “This feels like some sort of weird sympathy gift before you give someone before you tell them that their dog died or something.”

Baekhyun hesitantly took a seat at the table, his eyes meeting your curious ones for a quick second before they flitted back down to his hands. “I don’t know… I kind of felt bad for losing you last night. Jongdae pulled me away because he knew I was the only one who would take care of Chanyeol puking his brains out, and before I knew it, I had missed the ball dropping and when I finally got Yeol into bed and came back out you were already gone.”

That was it? Furrowing your brow, you offered him a small smile. “Baek, it’s no big deal. We’ve rarely ever been together when it hits midnight in the past anyway.”

“But I wanted to be with you.”

You would be lying if you said his simple statement didn’t send a swarm of butterflies to your stomach that ignited a sort of fire in your insides. You knew you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to interpret his words in such a way, but you couldn’t help it. It was definitely going to take more than one day of the new year to push your feelings aside. Instead of showing any emotion, you solely asked him, “Why?”

Baekhyun’s eyes remained fixated on the clock on the microwave behind your head as you took a seat in the chair beside him. His demeanor was so unlike his usual self; you were so used to him being direct. “I thought a lot about what you said.”

Another cryptic answer could only yield another vague question. “What did I say?”

“Just about your resolution and how you’ve never liked New Year’s Eve. I was thinking about that a lot.”

Now it was your turn to feel uneasy. Picking a small piece off of your doughnut, you rolled the object between your thumb and index finger to avoid meeting his gaze that was finally set on you. “Why were you thinking about that?”

Taking a drawn out sip from his iced coffee, Baekhyun shrugged his shoulders. Despite the gesture anticipating to come off as nonchalant, the boy’s disposition was still rather timid. “I want to know why you don’t like it.” His eyes lost yours again, moving back to the clock behind your head. What the fuck was so interesting about the clock? “And I want you to be honest.”

The tension in the air between the pair of you had you wanting to rise out of your chair and lock yourself in your bedroom. You knew you couldn’t do that, and you knew he would see right through you if you provided him with some conventional answer of why you didn’t like the holiday. Instead of opting to do either of those things, you chose to be honest. Honest, but in a way that didn’t include him in the narrative. “I don’t know… I guess I’ve just always seen it as some sort of facade of an in-between dimension. The whole point of the day is to leave all of the troubles of the past year behind and it gives off this sort of false hope that things are going to be drastically better and different when the clock strikes midnight, but it’s all an illusion. So I guess it’s kind of just like any other day except it exists as sort of neither the past or the future, but it’s the false hope that comes along with it that usually makes me sad.”

“An in-between,” Baekhyun repeated, nodding his head. He bobbed his head in a manner that suggested not only that he agreed with your words, but that he may have even anticipated you saying them. Without missing another beat, he murmured, “So kind of like us.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, the remnants of the doughnut remaining in your mouth shot down your throat, sending you into a coughing fit. “W-What?”

Baekhyun hesitated for a moment, mindlessly twirling the straw around his plastic iced coffee cup. “You heard me.”

Taking a long sip of your beverage to clear your throat of any stray doughnut crumbs, you blinked a few times in disbelief as you stared at the boy sitting next to you. How the fuck had he read your mind? And why was he bringing this up right now? There was absolutely no way he understood the weight of his words, and there was no safe way for you to respond to what you thought he might be implying. Instead, you played it safe, asking, “What do you mean by that?”

“I think you know what I mean… Or at least I hope you do.” Baekhyun’s nervous brown eyes met yours for a moment. The only sound filling the room was that of your heartbeat pounding in your chest, and the anxious tapping of his foot on the wooden floor. “I think you should put that resolution of yours to use though and tell me what you think I mean.”

Your resolution. The one where you had told him you needed to stop letting your fears hold you back from the things you wanted, and that sometimes just a few seconds of bravery could possibly lead to drastic changes in your life. That was certainly the one he was referring to, it was just a matter of you putting your words into action less than twelve hours into the new year. You knew there was a chance you were reading his body language wrong and that this could go horribly wrong. However, in the moment, the want for something more to push you out of the in-between and Kyungsoo’s advice that nothing would change unless you were more direct proved to be stronger.

“You’re saying we’re also like an in-between because while we’re definitely friends by label, a lot of the things we do makes it feel like we’re more than that… But because we’ve never talked about it, we’re stuck in a sort of in-between state of friends and something more than friends…” After pausing for a moment, you lost total control over the words escaping your lips. “So if what you’re saying is that New Year’s Eve makes me sad because it reminds me of us, you’re right.”

You weren’t sure precisely how you were expecting Baekhyun to respond to your unexpected confession, but it certainly wasn’t him putting his face in his hands and letting out a loud groan. “God, I hate it when Kyungsoo is right. Even Jongin was right. Jongin. I’m such a fucking dumbass.”

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you stared down at your lap and sucked in a deep breath in an effort to decrease the accelerated speed of your heart. You wished he would say something more. In fact, you needed him to elaborate or else you wished the floor would swallow you up right then and there. “Oh…?”

“Y/N…” The sound of the legs of his chair grinding against the floor interrupted his unusually quiet voice for just a moment. Within a moment, his knees knocked against yours and a shaky hand found shelter beneath your chin, urging your head upward. “I’ve been so caught up in my own fears of you rejecting me that I usually spend every New Year’s Eve drinking until I black out before midnight the years you’ve been with another guy so I don’t need to see you kiss somebody else at midnight, or making out with another random girl in an attempt to make myself feel better and forget about you. It never worked. It never will work because I’m a dumbass and I have been so disgustingly and blindly in love with you that I’ve been too scared or too stupid to consider that just maybe you felt the same way.”

It was in that exact moment that you felt as if though you finally understood what people meant when they said their hearts are full. With each word that Baekhyun spoke and each absentminded stroke of his thumb across your cheek, you were sure that yours was about to burst; burst from knowing that all of the pain and longing had been without a purpose, and burst yet again for how much love you had to offer the boy sitting before you. If you hadn’t been so well-rested and used to being cautious for so long, you probably would’ve thrown your arms around him and burst into tears.

It was also in that moment that you felt a drastic shift in the energy between the two of you. No longer were you trapped in the longing and sadness of the in-between. No longer did you have to wonder ‘what if’ or if your deepest feelings were reciprocated. The vulnerability plastered across his face washed away all of the doubts you had been carrying around and beating you down for too long. He wanted you and you wanted him. The curse, that torturous trap, had been broken. The in-between was no longer.

“You’re right,” you at last vocalized, unable to bite back the exuberant smile toying at the corners of your lips. Reaching up, you gently rested your palm on top of the outside of his hand on your cheek. “You are a dumbass.”

Baekhyun blinked a few times, almost as if he didn’t believe the words that left your mouth. His body froze for a moment, but when he noticed the genuine joy spread across your face, he instantly relaxed and his smile grew to match your own. “I just poured out my heart to you and that’s all you have to say to me?” he whined, lowering his arms to wrap around your waist and tugging you onto his lap. “I already had to hear that from Kyungsoo on my way up here. I told him that I was probably going to chicken out and then he asked me for a doughnut. I thought he just wanted something to eat, but instead he threw it at my head and told me I’d be a total dumbass if I waited any longer.” Glancing up for a moment, he ruffled his messy blonde hair. “There’s probably still some frosting in my hair.”

“He called you a dumbass to me just last night, so at least he’s consistent.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggled to yourself as you eased a small clump of strawberry frosting out of his hair. Once you were able to settle comfortably on his thighs, you allowed your eyes to meet his alluring stare. “Baekhyun, I love you more than you could ever know and I am just as much of a dumbass for not telling you sooner and believing that my feelings would just disappear.”

If you hadn’t believed him before, the look of sheer infatuation in his eyes as he smiled at you wiped your slate clean of any remaining worries or doubts you had. The love overtaking his features almost had you feeling embarrassed for ever thinking that he didn’t love you in the way that you loved him. It had always been crystal clear. No wonder why all of your friends were constantly urging you to confess to each other and that the chances of rejection were nonexistent. No wonder why your friends had even told you that it would be impossible for you to love someone as deeply as you loved Baekhyun.

Playing with the hair on the back of his head, you leaned forward to comfortably rest your forehead against his. “So can I kiss you now? For real this time? Or if I do, are you going to say ‘nice work, team’ and give me a bro fist bump like you did last time?” you teased, bringing up an unfortunate memory of the past, earning a groan and a visible cringe from Baekhyun.

“I panicked and I choked in the worst way possible. You should know that I still wake up in a cold sweat some nights because that absolutely haunts me.” He let out a breathy chuckle, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. “And you can. We just have to wait a minute.”

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you tilted your head to the side. “Wait a minute? For what? We’ve been waiting years.”

“You’re going to laugh.” Baekhyun chewed on his lower lip, a bashful blush smearing itself across the apples of his cheeks.

“Tell meeee.”

Puffing out his flushed cheeks, his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt to rest on the warmth of your lower back. “While I was tossing and turning last night, I came up with this grand plan that if everything worked out, I was going to kiss you at exactly 12 o’clock noon as a sort of recreation of what I wasn’t able to do last night and all the midnights before. Now that I’m saying it out loud, it’s even cringier than I originally thought and I’m emb--”

“Well, did everything work out?” you cut him off with your question, peering over your shoulder to take note of the time on the microwave clock that Baekhyun had been so preoccupied with just shortly before.

“Well, yes…”

“Then count down from ten.”

A knowing smile consumed Baekhyun’s lips as he began to murmur the countdown in unison with you. With each number, your voices became just an ounce quieter. With each murmur, your faces moved closer in proximity. All of the tension and anticipation that had built up over the years existed as a bubble bound to be popped in the minimal space remaining between your lips.

“And 1…”

Baekhyun decided to take initiative once the last number was uttered, a firm hand gripping the back of your head and nudging your face forward until your lips crashed against his. After the initial urgency of clamouring lips and teeth wore off, your lips and bodies molded together and fell into a mutual rhythm that burst the bubble of fears and replaced it with intense fervor. While your kiss may not have been accompanied with the same boisterous fireworks and confetti that those who kissed at midnight experienced, it didn’t matter; the awakening of all of your senses from your head to toe ignited a fire inside of you that was brighter and louder than any holiday celebration could ever be.

Neither of you had to ask what all of this meant for the two of you when you at last pulled away; there was simply a sense of mutual understanding that the stalemate had been broken.

At last, you were no longer trapped in the in-between.

At last, you were home.

#baekhyun x reader #baekhyun imagine #exo imagine #baekhyun fic #baekhyun writing #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun x you #exo #baekhyun #ddaengtae

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | EPILOGUE

💖 story masterlist 💖

This is it. This is the happy ending they deserve. Fluff. Fem!Loki, because we don't get enough of Loki's female form. Some musings about relationships in general, I think. Guys, I'm crying as I'm posting this.

note: I've got two posts of outtakes coming out sometime this week. Snippets that didn't fit in the story but that have the needed vibe, y kno? As well as a new story is coming out soon... Be sure to check out my main masterlist and taglist if you like my writing <3

I want to thank all my readers for this amazing journey. I love all of you, really, like- I haven't figured out how to produce serotonin on my own ever since I hit puberty, and you guys, you are an amazing source for it. I appreciate the time and the patience that it took to read this 120k word thing and I hope you found a little something for yourself in my writing. A comfort, maybe, because everyone deserves to be happy. I love you all 3000.

"You suck," I grumbled in Peter's direction. Luckily, the little shit was out of my immediate eyesight and I couldn't just pelt him with the assorted items that were scattered around me; luckily for him - after enduring hours of non-stop rambling from the spider boy, I was ready to bargain with Stephen for the sorcerer to put a temporary mute ban on Pete. His nervousness was becoming contagious.

"And you swallow," Pietro replied with a snicker as I heard him wrestle with Peter's tie over the pathetic noises of whining and grumbling coming from the younger man.

"I'm lady, ladies don't spit," I rolled my eyes into the skies, catching Loki's appreciative snicker. She - and yes, Loki was in her female form for this event - carefully combed and did my hair, something completely out of this world, all puns intended. I supposed she was feeling generous, because her female form generally made Loki even more moody and unapproachable. But in a hot way. I hope she didn't notice me ogling her like some kind of gallery painting. "You're a goddess, I can't believe you're friends with me," I addressed Loki, watching the careful movements of her slender hands in the mirror.

A small smirk and a dusting of pink over her pale cheeks was what I got, but the silence was so, so loud.

"Stop flirting," Wanda remarked from her spot by the window where she was doing Natasha's make-up with surgical precision. "You already have three boyfriends, leave some for us, Jesus," Her tone was playful.

"Oh my God, like you didn't brainfreeze and run into the fucking wall, forehead-first, when you saw Loki walk in," I scoffed as Loki's blush deepened.

My witchy friend grumbled something rude in Sokovian under her breath but refrained from any more comments, choosing to simp in defiant silence. Well, good for her, because I was about a hundred and five percent sure that Loki was as equally as smitten with her. It's just that neither of them knew how to approach the other. What can I say, idiots in love...

And yes, yes, I can say that because it takes one to know one. My own idiots were somewhere on the upper floors - getting ready in their own rooms, pulling out their brand new suits and ties for the annual Stark gala. It was supposed to be a charity fundraiser but as all of us were quite disillusioned, we knew it was nothing but a pissing contest between people with small PP syndrome. Even Tony himself said so.

Which is why I had assembled all the girls and theys in my room for a mission debrief. My own personal pride wouldn't let me be anything but a star, and to be completely honest, I just wanted to show off my family to the world - even if the delicate parts of our relationship were hidden from the general public, it filled me with immense amount of joy to be surrounded by my very own at their absolute best.

As for Pietro and Peter, they arrived not too long after me, Wanda, Natasha and Loki made camp in the biggest room with the most amount of natural light, surrounded by make-up and other assorted tools. Both boys were bickering but it was obvious that some of the older men had gotten on their nerves, forcing the youngsters seek solace with their peers.

"You know, Vanity Fair better be talking about us for at least a week," I grouched as Wanda helped me into my dress before I returned the favour. "The amount of people I had to actually, physically talk to, to get us these fucking gowns, is frankly disgusting."

"Agreed," Loki admired herself in the mirror, smoothing out invisible creases in her gown. "Although I must say, the dressmakers on Midgard are far more patient and open-minded than on Asgard." Truly, Loki had nearly driven the poor lady crazy. But on the upside, Loki looked like a living doll. Pristine, perfect.

"Our whims are their wages," Natasha piped up with a chuckle.

We stepped out into the main room, taking note of the men scattered on the couches, all of them wearing an almost identical expression of being already done with the formal event - which, I didn't blame them. Having gotten used to the informal, communal-living atmosphere, I wasn't overly keen on being surrounded by random rich douchebags either; as it was unavoidable, I was going to be miserable - but at least I was going to be miserable in style.

Predictably, the menfolk froze and hurried to pelt us with compliments as they surveyed our ensemble - all of our dresses had a distinct vibe despite carrying a sense of individuality to each gown. That was my idea, actually, to present the team as a family - both to satisfy my own need for one and to present a good public image for the press. Call it getting good cookie from the public - in advance.

"Stunning, absolutely beautiful," Tony chastely kissed my cheek, leading my by the arm towards the limo, Stephen and Bruce a pace behind us. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"We are," Bruce corrected him mutely. Stephen's smirk was a mile wide. "It'll be hard to keep my hands to myself for four hours but I'll manage," The scientist added, eyes briefly flashing a fluorescent green.

"There are children here," Peter interjected, nervously waving a hand. I gently elbowed Tony, speaking with my eyes rather than words, that Pete was in dire need of emotional support for his first big public event. With a sigh, the engineer relocated to sit next to the spider boy, both of them talking in hushed tones.

"Now, Bruce," I smiled innocently. "Why would I refuse a dance or five to my favourite lab partner in crime?" I winked at him as giggles erupted all around us. "And I'm sure there's a point somewhere about wizards sweeping princesses off their feet," I kept up the banter in hopes that any remaining tension would evaporate before we arrive to the venue.

I, however, couldn't lose all of it for we were absolutely assaulted by the photographers and press as we arrived to the red carpet; it was only sheer luck that me and Wanda didn't stumble ass over heels out of the limo. That luck's name was Loki: her magic delicately helped us to exit the car with grace despite our large gowns. Mental note to buy Loki all the chocolate: add to priority list.

It went about as good as it could. Peter was introduced as a trainee - and nearly had an aneurysm when Tony none-too-kindly corrected the host, calling Peter his protégée and successor. As for little old me? Rising star of biochemical engineering. No titles, no direct titles, but it was heavily implied we were involved.

I could fell the old, white rich men leering at me despite the layers of silk and tulle. Nobody was commenting on my champagne intake so I downed one after the other until I had a comfortable buzz going on. I could absolutely see why female scientists became either reclusive or brash.

Bruce's eyes followed me wherever I went. I had encountered some people I vaguely knew from all the socialite events I had to attend with my mother, so it wasn't as if I was a fish out of the water; it's just that every time I strayed further than ten feet from out group, I instantly grew a tail in the form of one of the Avengers.

"Sam, quit being creepy," I exited the ladies room, immediately spying the handsome man just 'casually' hanging out by a potted plant, glued to his smartphone and pretending to be very busy.

He looked up guiltily, shutting down Minesweeper and pocketing the phone. "Not taking any risks this time 'round, Princess," He offered me his arm, leading us back to our table. "Tony would have my head."

I rolled my eyes, falling into the chair next to Stephen. "My tracker implant is still in and the bracelets Natasha loaned me are actually tasers. Bird, chill," My hand snuck under the tablecloth, blindly groping for Stephen's hand. It didn't take much time for him to respond, cradling my smaller palm in his larger one, offering the small comfort with a tiny tilt to his lips. Both my large skirt and the fabric covering the table aided the secrecy; I felt like a middle schooler sneaking a kiss from my first crush behind the bleachers.

Coupled with the bubbles in my champagne, it made me giddy.

"Sam is just being careful, Princess," Stephen rumbled patiently. "This ball will be over soon."

I snorted, "But Stephen, I love balls," Causing the whole table erupt in bashful snickers.

"Yeah, think to me about it," Wanda downed the remnants of her wine glass, eyes wide, looking to the side. The giggling became a full belly-laugh as I didn't have the decency to play coy. I just smirked because, yeah, I did love me some...

The final hour dragged on forever. My feet hurt from the dancing. I had my suspicions that time would pass faster if I actually move around so I didn't waste the chance and cajoled Bruce into several slow dances with me. The energy between us was electric; I hoped my wife eyes and the red crawling up his neck would be attributed to alcohol. We spoke in hushed tones, about nothing in particular, the words being like sticks we threw into our fire.

Tony wasn't around much, way too busy to do much more than stop by our table every now and then. I both envied and admired him; he handled everything with grace and serendipity. Tony was right there next to Thor and Loki - literal royalty - and I had to pinch myself to prevent myself from ogling him, sighing in lovesickness every goddamn minute.

"If you ever stop looking at him like that, I don't think he'll survive," Stephen's tone was cheeky; his eyes were intense as he looked down at me as we danced. My sorcerer was rarely sappy, but when he found the words to describe his feelings... It was serious.

I met his eyes slowly, letting him soak in the very same admiration and awe I felt when I was with him. I felt his shudder, I heard the hitch in his breath. He wasn't jealous, no, he simply observed. I wanted him to see what I saw. "The day that I stop looking at you all like that is the day that I need to get my head screwed on straight." I wasn't a poet but neither was this a romance novel. "As far as I'm concerned, I won the lottery, the grand prize and the fucking life."

He chuckled. "You have way too much faith in us, Princess," Twirling me as to avoid the out of habit embrace.

Did I, though? I was inclined to disagree. Sure, we had our spits and arguments and sometimes Stephen would stick his cold ass feet under my blankets, Bruce's love for curry was a crime against anyone who slept in the same room as he and Tony routinely flirted with everyone and everything that had a pulse. I had days where my mother's temper surfaced.

Sometimes, one of us would inadvertently hog the other person and the remaining two would pout, roll their eyes or pitch a fit.

I just didn't see it as a big deal. All of those parts were normal - what couldn't be said about the rest of our situation. Compared to couples I've seen around, I thought we're happy. My boyfriends seemed to be happy, too, and if they weren't, it usually was pretty obvious.

So - okay, perhaps we definitely should be working on verbalizing our feelings. That would definitely solve if not world hunger, then at least the world war three that occasionally erupted in Tony's penthouse. And the ups and downs - not the steep kind, but ones not too different from waves rolling ashore - was what held us together. Because, well, our world was hectic and fast-paced and sometimes we needed that gentle rocking motion to sway us back to peace.

Tony's arm on my waist pulled me back to reality, steering me towards the balcony. Bruce and Stephen followed, all four of us power-walking through the inebriated crowd.

"Just so you know, I'm on board with whatever crazy shit you're planning," Stephen raised a palm towards a smirking Tony.

His mouth immediately dropped into a pout I could barely resist kissing. "But... I had a whole speech prepared," The engineer retorted indignantly, discreetly attempting to swat the sorcerer on the ass.

"And I'm sure it was amazing, honey," Bruce placated the upset Tony with a laugh, causing the latter to intensify his pout, eyeing us with mirth over the rim of his glasses, his stupid, lovely face more kissable than ever.

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #Bruce Banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Tony Stark x Bruce Banner x Stephen Strange x reader #I'm sobbing 😭#the end #estoy finito #конец блин

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poutysuki · 4 years

Text

Eyes on Me (2)

You can find part one, here!

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader, Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (hints at KiriBaku ?)

Warnings: 18+, Threesome, cursing, vouyerism, dirty talk, spanking, face fucking

Summary: Looks like you might have bitten off more than you can chew after teasing Bakugou in a facetime call with Kirishima.

Tagging: @lady-bakuhoe b/c Jo was the source of inspiration for this whole fic and @katsukisprincess b/c she wanted some new stories to read (please ignore if this isn’t your cup of tea 🥺)

Word Count: 3.4k

Carmine eyes watched as you nervously checked the time on your phone once again, fidgeting with your clothing inhabit as you waited with bated breath for Bakugou’s arrival. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anticipating his arrival as well, the idea of finally inviting his best friend to join you for a night of passion was too irresistible. It was something he thought about more often than he cared to admit, but he didn’t dare bring it up to you in fear of scaring you off. However, a couple of drinks into your annual date night and you were spewing about how you thought Bakugou was pretty attractive and wouldn’t mind him joining in every now and then. Of course, you rushed to assure your lover that you had eyes for him only, but there was nothing to be afraid of, not when he shared the same sentiment. Bakugou held a special place in his heart and he was quite relieved that you two got along so well, enough that it led to this very moment. Kirishima was aware of the longing gaze his friend directed at you and how sometimes his gaze lingered a little too long on your curves or the length of your legs, not thinking much of it because you were very attractive. It wasn’t until he stumbled upon him late one night, his bedroom door closed and locked, but it didn’t muffle his breathless moans of your name from spewing out of his lips. He should have been appalled, mad or offended even, but instead, he felt white heat stirring in his abdomen at the thought of Bakugou getting off to the thought of his girlfriend. And now that he knew your feelings on the matter? It was no question at all, he had to convince his friend to spend the night together with you.

“Do you really think he’ll show up? I mean, this was all rather sudden for him.” You worried your lip between your teeth, an anxious expression on your face as you turned your attention to Kirishima who only flashed you a gentle smile. He stalked over, hands resting on your waist to draw you closer.

“I don’t think he’d pass up a chance like this, he’s been wanting this for a long time,” A brow arched at this, confusion muddling your features. What did he mean by that? “You mean you didn’t notice the looks he was giving you? I’m not the most observant guy, but even I saw it.” You were surprised, this was certainly news to you. At times, Bakugou was hard to read in between his brash attitude and hardened words, only thinking that he saw you as little more than a friend.

You drew a deep breath. “And you’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t. If there’s ever a time when you are uncomfortable, just let me know and we’ll stop, Princess.” There was a certain reassurance in his gaze that had the tension slowly leaving your body, only to be replaced by nervous excitement by the ding from Kirishima’s phone. He grabbed it, smirk drawing at his lips. “He’s here.”

Bakugou barely had a moment to collect his thoughts before the door swung open to reveal Kirishima’s trademark smile and your bashful expressions, cheeks flushed warmly at what was to come. He grunted in greeting before entering the all-too-familiar apartment, shrugging off his jacket and shoes to get more comfortable. For once, he was at a bit of a loss. How was he supposed to act in a situation like this? Were they going to get straight down to business or-

“We’re really glad you could make it, y/n was actually afraid you weren’t gonna show up.” Your mouth fell open, nudging your boyfriend in the side. He made his way to the fridge, grabbing a beer and offering it to Bakugou. You all needed a little something to loosen up, the tension was far too fragile and you didn’t want to mess it up.

The blonde sighed as the alcohol cascaded down his throat, he could feel himself relaxing a little. His attention strayed to you, your own drink perched at your lips but never drinking it. Instead, you were fixated on the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed each sip, your body suddenly feeling unmistakably hot at the simple motion. Bakugou smirked at that, a devilish look covering his features. Kirishima watched with delighted interest, enjoying the way you squirmed underneath his attention. The redhead moved towards the couch, patting the spot next to him and you happily perched in your place, Bakugou settling in the armchair angled to the side of you.

“Guess we need to set a few ground rules before we get started. Most importantly, if any of us ever feels uncomfortable with something, we stop right away, no arguments,” Each of you nodded your heads in agreement. “She’s on the pill so she doesn’t mind if you don’t use a condom, just don’t cum inside of her.” Your thighs pressed together subtly in an attempt to hide how you were feeling. There was no denying that you kind of wanted to know how it felt to be filled up by him, in more ways than one.

Bakugou listened intently, having no issue with any of the rules laid out before him. Both men noticed your obvious movements, your skin flushed and the room becoming a little too warm with them both focused on you. Please, you wanted to beg, someone make a move, do anything. You wanted to feel their rough hands on your body, their lips marking your skin as their own as they ravaged your heat-riddled body.

“Go sit on Bakugou’s lap, Princess.” Your body obeyed without questions, legs shakily making their way forward until you stood in front of him, dressed in little more than one of Kirishima’s old shirts and panties. The man groaned at the sight, your nipples poking through the thin fabric and legs on display. You did this on purpose, all for him. His hands reached out to grab your waist, wetting his lips as you straddled his waist, legs on either side as you settled your weight on him. He cursed at the feeling of you pressing into his groin, cock growing hard as you experimentally dipped your hips. Kirishima watched with rapt attention as you leaned down, looking at Bakugou from beneath full lashes before gently pressing your lips together.

It started of slowly, Bakugou’s tongue gently tracing the seam of your lips before dipping in, grunting as yours met his in a sensual dance. Fuck, he dreamt about this for a long time. To finally feel your plush lips against his as your hips experimentally bucked into his was a fantasy becoming reality. There was no other sound in the room except for your lips sucking against one another and Kirishima shifting against the couch, lip between his teeth. You broke for air, a thin string of saliva connecting you as you panted, eyes unfocused as you grounded against Bakugou’s hard length. “Fu-fuck, that feels so good.” You whimpered, burying your head into his neck. Kirishima met Bakugou’s gaze, smirking as his friend seemed to lose himself to your mindless grinding.

“Why don’t you show him how good he’s making you feel?” Bakugou didn’t tear his eyes away from yours as your hand gripped his own, dragging it down the length of your bodies to rest between your legs. With your hand on top of his, he could feel how wet you were, practically dripping as he felt how damp your panties were.

“You weren’t fucking kidding, huh? She really is a little slut.” A heady sigh escaped your throat at that, nodding rapidly as you urged his fingers to stroke you through the fabric. Kirishima grunted, palming his length through his sweatpants as he watched his friend stroke your folds, he could practically smell your heady arousal from here, all worked up at the thought of them fucking you. “I wanna taste her.” This was directed towards your boyfriend who gave him a knowing smile. You glanced over your shoulder towards your lover you beckoned you over, and you almost whimpered at the loss of heat from the blonde’s fingers. You tucked yourself against his broad chest, his calloused hands coming to spread your thighs open, similar to that one night, lips suckling at your exposed neck. Your ass pressed taught into his crotch, relishing in the hardness that poked at your lower back. The cord within you was wound too tightly and you wanted to feel something, anything.

Bakugou found his way over, dropping to his knees in front of you, grinning at the desperate expression on your face. He gripped the waistband of your panties, dragging them down and throwing them over his shoulder as he stared at your glistening lips. “Doesn’t she have a pretty pussy, Bakugou?” And he was right, you looked gorgeous being bared to him in all your glory, leaking slick and your clit swollen, yearning for attention. He grunted in agreement, dragging a finger against your folds earning him a shriek of delight at the motion. Kirishima clamped down on your thighs, his sultry voice in your ear. “Be a good girl for Bakugou and let him eat you out properly.”

One small taste was all the encouragement Bakugou needed before he delved between your thighs, tongue trailing from your clit to your hole before burying itself inside. Keening moans tore from your throat at the sensation, fingers reaching down to tangle in his bright locks and pull him in closer. Your hips rolled sensually, Bakugou’s name a chant on your lips as he ate you like a man starved. Something in Kirishima’s belly stirred at watching his best friend on his knees in front of you, drawing out the most delightful sounds from your lungs. He never knew how immensely turned on he’d be by the sight, and the thought almost scared him.

He couldn’t get enough of your smell, of your taste, or the way your walls clenched around him as he eased a finger inside. You were so damn tight and he felt his dick pulse at the thought of being buried in those velvety walls of yours. He wanted to hear you cry out his name while you choked on your lover’s cock. Bakugou was in too deep and he knew it. He focused on your clit, suckling at the nerves while his finger searched for that spongy spot.

“Ooh, Bakugou!” There it was. All his efforts were focused on that spot, working to unravel you as fast as he could.

“There you go, baby. You’re almost there, Bakugou’s tongue feels good huh?” You whimpered affirmation, nothing but mindless babble leaving your lips as you could only focus on his tongue. You pulled his face flushed to your cunt, back arching as he furiously suckled on your clit.

“Fucking come in my mouth, I wanna feel you release all over me.” It was almost as if dirty talk was the key to your orgasm, your nerves setting alight as you cried out, Kirishima whispering hushed praises into your ear as Bakugou helped you ride out your high, walls fluttering around his fingers as you felt each little wave. The men watched as your chest heaved, eyes darkening at the blissed-out look in your eyes as you smiled, begging for more. You wanted more? They’d give it to you. With little effort, Kirishima lifted you into his arms, Bakugou trailing behind him as they made their way to the bedroom, depositing your spent body on the cool sheets as you gazed at them expectantly.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer,” Tugging off your shirt and panties, you were left exposed to their hungry gaze, Bakugou’s gaze trailing along your curves and the swell of your breasts before settling on your ass. “I wanna feel you inside me, both of you.” You pouted and the men shared a look.

“You gotta tell us what you want sweetheart, or we won’t know.”

Your cheeks burned as you looked between your boyfriend and friend, not wanting to put your desires into words. Your eyes locked onto Kirishima. “I want you to take my mouth.” He wasn’t sure how, but that shy expression your face made you look adorable despite saying you wanted him to face-fuck you. Bakugou’s breath hitched as your darkened eyes finally focused on him. “And you have my p-pussy.” You were embarrassed, but it was worth seeing their cock’s strain in their pants, eager to make themselves home in your waiting caverns.

You perched yourself on your hands and knees, pressing open-mouthed kisses on Kirishima’s pants. He removed his shirt, his broad chest and firm abdomen on display for all to see, watching as you mouthed at his length. Bakugou gulped audibly, his shirt and pants also disappearing until he was left bare. Your ministrations paused briefly, eyes widening as you gazed at his hard cock in person. Oh hell. He wasn’t as long as your boyfriend, but he was thick, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to wrap your hands around it even if you tried. A cocky smirk tugged at his lips at your dumbfounded expression, tugging at his length, tracking your tongue as it darted to wet your lips.

“She’s been wanting this for a while, you know?” Kirishima mentioned, eyes softening at your flushed cheeks, looking away quickly. It was a surprise to hear that you wanted the same thing as he did, he was absolutely certain that Kirishima was the only person you’d share a bed with. It made his blood rush to think that maybe you’d touched yourself to the thought of him before. “Don’t be shy now, Princess. We promise we’re going to fuck you real good.” You whimpered audibly, begging for them to finally fill you up.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate in dragging your hips back, rubbing his length along your folds to coat him in your essence. You turned back to Kirishima, momentary bashfulness forgotten as you placed teasing kissing on the tip of his cock, tongue peeking out to trail along the head before suckling him into your mouth. The breath rushed from his mouth as you hollowed your cheeks, drawing him out before taking him further and further in. Cursing, Bakugou lined himself up, slowly pushing himself in, inch by inch. You sputtered, nearly choking on Kirishima’s cock as you felt yourself being nearly split open. “You’re so big, fuck he’s so big. I ca-can’t…” The air left your lungs and Bakugou paused for a moment, leaning down to kiss along your spine, whispering about how good of a girl you were, taking each inch of his fat cock.

You’d always felt full whenever your boyfriend fucked you, but there was something about having to cocks in both holes that left you winded. He inched in further until his length finally bottomed out, the blonde panting with exertion above you as your pussy held him in a vice-like grip. “How the hell does she stay so tight?” He grunted, watching as Kirishima’s face swelled with what looked like pride, his fingers petting your head gently as you adjusted his size. Bakugou thought he was joking when mentioned how tight you were one night, he was learning a lot about you tonight.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, pushing your hips back, clenching down on Bakugou. He listened to your silent please, dragging his cock out before slamming back into you with fervour. Kirishima tapped the head of his shaft against your lips, mouth opening obediently as he eased his way into your mouth, the tip brushing your throat. You moaned around him, his eyes rolling back as you moved along him with each thrust Bakugou gave. He’d admit it, openly too, that he would engrain the image of his best friend fucking into you, teeth clench as you squeezed against him. You were delirious with pleasure, breasts bouncing, his balls papping against your ass. Both of you looked so good.

What you couldn’t reach with your mouth, you touched with your hand, pumping the base of Kiri’s cock in your hand. You were so full and all you could think about was the drag of Bakugou’s fat cock in your pussy and Kirishima down your throat. The blonde leaned back, eyes watching each precarious jiggle of your ass with each thrust, a hand coming down to slap at the globes of flesh. He nearly came right then and there when you suddenly tightening against him, drool leaving your mouth as your eyes rolled back.

“What a good little slut, taking both our cocks like this. Fuck, you feel so good, keep tightening around me, just like that.” Bakugou’s praises were like music to your ears, delighted that you were able to satisfy both of the men in your life. Kirishima smiled, twisting your hair in his fingers as he took control, fucking into your mouth. You were compliant and eager to please, like Daddy’s good princess.

You could feel the string pulling taught in your body, all the emotions and sensations you were felling were too much. With each sting to your ass and the ache of your jaw, you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Bakugou groaned, not knowing it was even possible to be tighter, your walls sucking his cock further in. You were so fucking beautiful like this, with sweat-slicked skin and mouth stuffed. A finger dipped down between your thighs, fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive bud. “Come on baby, come for us. I wanna feel you clench my cock as you come.”

“Let Bakugou feel how good your, pussy milks him.” It was too much, far too much. You pulled away from Kirishima, panting as your muscles locked in place, thighs shaking as you felt your second orgasm wash over you. Your heat fluttered and squeezed Bakugou for everything he was worth, he struggled to hold himself together just long enough to pull out. You heard your lover’s voice pitch in a deep groan before he found your mouth once more, his release spilling into your waiting cavern. Bakugou breathed shallowly, slowly pumping his hips before pulling out, hand furiously wrapping itself around his cock as he spilled himself onto your back, relishing in the sight of marking you.

The muscles in your legs gave out, body pitching forward as you greedily gulped for air. Kirishima placed a loving kiss on the crown of your head before heading towards the bathroom, returning with a towel for you and Bakugou. They cleaned you carefully, making sure to wipe every trace of cum from your body before returning to your side. Bakugou fidgeted, unsure of whether he should go or not. His friend must have sensed his sudden anxiety, gesturing to the other side of you as he rolled your body over, brushing sweaty strands from your face. “Want some water or a bath?” You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to rest for a bit.

“Mm, I’m okay, thank you.” Voice hoarse, your eyes fluttered open to meet Kirishima’s, smiling gently at him. You traced your fingers along his in a gentle gesture before meeting Bakugou’s who felt a little out of place. “I’m glad you came over tonight, I wasn’t sure if you were going to come.”

He scoffed at that, an uncharacteristic pink staining his cheeks. He wanted this, more than you’d ever know. “As if I was going to refuse a challenge for Shitty Hair.” You laughed at this, of course, he saw it as a challenge from him, but you knew that he enjoyed himself nonetheless. A comfortable silence settled among you, none seeming to want to break the atmosphere that enveloped the three of you, content with just basking in one’s company.

Finally, Kirishima audibly cleared his throat before saying something that shocked both you and Bakugou. “I was thinking that maybe next time, you could try taking us both, Princess. Whaddya say?” Such an innocent face should not be saying such vulgar things. You felt your body flushed, mind stuttering as you fought to comprehend the implication behind his words.

Bakugou found your gaze, eyes widening for a fraction as you both seemed to catch on. There was going to be a next time?

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha drabble #bnha bakugou #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha drabble

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the-crows-typist · 4 years

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hi! since your askbox is open may I request a ficlet of leona and fem!mc with the word "crown" please? thank you💖

The Possibilities are Endless

Hello there, dear. I hope you’ll like this one. A little piece where you are the heir to a fallen kingdom and married to the prince to save it.

This piece has an AU where in you, the reader, is the heiress to the fallen kingdom of bird people and is arranged to marry Leona in order to save it. you can say this AU has two concepts in one!

“Another game of chess, eh? Tell me, will you win this one?”

Your marriage to Leona Kingscholar was purely out of political gain. You, the daughter of the fallen king of the Avian Kingdom and him, the third in line throne of the Kingdom of Beasts. The ceremony was short and the vows were recycled from an old piece love story remembered through the ages, neither of you shared a glance at each other nor neither did you speak during the reception. You didn’t really think that someone like Leona could love you nor did you ever think that someone like you could even love Leona. The two of you were pieces of a puzzle that never matched.

That is, until the both of you decided to play a game of chess.

“Is this a pastime for you, your majesty?” You asked, moving your pawn in the way of his queen as a last ditch effort to protect your king. He moved his queen piece, eating the pawn without hesitation and leaving the king alone and unprotected. “You can call it that. When Farena and I were kids, we would play chess to pass the time.”

Your hand drew back and you gave it a thought, Leona’s pieces greatly outnumbered yours. Your king would be put on checkmate if you don’t do something quickly. “You and King Farena…Interesting. I did not think that he would be into these kinds of activities…As I see him out and about all the time.”

You pulled your king back and Leona retaliated by eating the nearby rook piece. You were slowly losing control of the board. “He likes board games as much as the next person. He’s just not very good at it. His words, not mine.” A small laugh left your lips and you raised your hands. “And this is where I raise my hands in defeat.”

“But you still have your queen to use.”

“True.” You say, tipping the king to fall on its side before looking to the queen piece staying in its position. “But I don’t think a king would want to see his queen suffer just for his protection.” Taking the queen, she placed it near the fallen king.

Leona huffed, taking the fallen king from the board to get a good look at it, scrutinizing the detail of the polished hardwood. “Using your heart in these kinds of situations will guarantee a bitter loss.” He said, you took the queen in your hands as he continued to speak. “Isn’t that what happened to your kingdom, princess? Why you had to marry.”

The grip on the queen tightened and his words bit in and pulled out the memories you so wanted to keep hidden. Your kingdom was falling apart with siege after siege and the straw the broke the camel’s back was when the trusted advisor of your father was assassinated. Your mother, bless her soul, was your father’s last source of comfort and he couldn’t bear to lose her.

So he surrendered, leaving your kingdom in the hands of the enemy. In overwhelming guilt, your father disappeared and soon did your mother follow; leaving you to be the sole heir to the kingdom.

“I don’t expect you to love me.” You put the piece down. “Neither do I expect myself to love you.”

“But I’m going to right the wrongs my father has down and help my kingdom with this marriage.”

Your eyes shined as your stared into his bright green ones. Somehow, it reminded you of emeralds polished to perfection its brilliant gleam contrasting the dull appearance of the second born prince.

“Checkmate.”

Days passed as the both of you bonded over chess, whether it be teaching each other how strategies to gain control over the board, discussing philosophies, or just telling each other funny memories from childhood.

“No, wait, you mean your scar wasn’t from this big epic battle like the stories say?” You asked through your fits of giggles as Leona sighed in embarrassment. Somehow, telling you his personal stories were both a pleasure and an annoyance. “It wasn’t. I actually…I got it by running into a wall.”

“Oh my stars, Leona!” You burst out laughing, holding your stomach as your voice echoed through the halls. “That’s precious.”

Leona grumbled, his lips barely keeping in a smile. “To be fair, I ate too much sugary treats. I couldn’t help it.” You rubbed your eyes of the tears that settled on your lashes, your cheeks darken from the sheer joy you got from your laughter.

“Hey, at least mine wasn’t as bad as the time you got stuck on the tree because you thought it was a good idea to start flight training.” He retorted again.

“I was 5.”

“So was I.”

The chess games then became nights where you would meet him by the balcony to stare at the stars and talk. Your hands in each other’s grasps. “When you’re up in the sky, the world below looks like a river of stars.” You began. “It’s just so different up there. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Leona blinked, looking over to you. “Then why don’t you try to fly up now if it makes you happy.”

You pushed yourself off the ground and bringing your knees to your chest. “If I did…I don’t know how long until I come down. If my parents didn’t then...”

His hand went to yours, caressing the soft skin of your hand.

“I can’t do it. Not now.”

“You don’t wear any crowns, Leona?” His brother, Farena with his wife and son made a public appearance for some time. Little Cheka was sick for a few days and the family decided to walk around the market place so that the little prince could get some fresh air and some sun.

“The royal jewels are only used by the reigning monarch.” On Farena’s head rested the family’s prized crown. The ruby stone shined greatly on the crown of Farena’s head, an emerald on his wife’s, and a tiny diamond on Cheka’s. You hummed out in reply as you walked with him.

“You came here without one. Don’t you wear a crown in your kingdom?”

“I’m not one for certain jewelry. I like bracelets and necklaces, even rings…But never crowns.”

The both of you held hands as you walked through the market, easily losing the royal guard in the crowd. Your wings tucked to your back, making sure it doesn’t bump into anybody and alerting others of your presence.

“Do you like wearing crowns, Leona?”

“I’m fine with it as long as it’s not heavy.”

“Heavy?”

Both of your hoods went up, hiding his ears and your hair just as the scream of the guards resonated through the crowd.

“Where is his highness and his wife?!”

“I tried wearing Farena’s crown back then. It was really heavy; I’m surprised he doesn’t have stiff neck from wearing it all the time.”

“Search the perimeter. They shouldn’t have gone far!”

The both of you stopped by a flower shop, its products floating in tubs of water. Something catches your eye.

Flower crowns.

“How much for this, madam?” You ask the lady looking after the stall. She was a small thing, quite old but kind looking. “That will be 75 madols for one, miss.” Your eyes widened at the offer then moved to take some notes and coins out of your pocket, handing it over to the nice old lady.

“So, you don’t like crowns that are too heavy…” You fish out a crown of purples, blues, and pristine white. “Then these will be perfect for you, Leona.” You nudged him, your elbow to his. “Come on, you know you like the crown. I can see it in your tail.” You say with a giggle.

“I hate it when you’re perceptive.” Your husband says, his tail swaying in excitement and glee. He removes his hood from his head and bows it. “To think I would have a public coronation.” The stall owner chuckles as you put the crown on him. “I dub thee—“

“Prince Leona, your highness! There you are.”

Leona let out a growl as he straightened himself to look over at the guards running your way. “Why did you stray away from the group?” They asked. “Please, let us go back. Your brother is worried sick.” The both of you exchanged glances and Leona turned around to get another flower crown form the tub. “Alright, alright. Tell my brother to calm down. It’s like neither of us were trained.” He growls, taking your hand and walking back into the crowd.

On his head was the flower crown you gave him.

Your fingers intertwined with his as you walked back to the safety of the royal family’s convoy. “Leona?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s play chess later.”

He gave you a smile, one that was not laced with his usual haughty nature. The hold on your hide tightened comfortably. “Sure.”

#requests #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #leona ficlets

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letthefrogsbe · 3 years

Text

remember when I was gonna write that parkner fic?

cool so I've decided I'm gonna, but because I cannot write for SHIT and I hate my writing every time I see it, ill just share my outline of what I have so far. its not coherent. sorry.

Section one: aunt may dies. It’ll be like “it's been 3 months. 3 months since May was shot. 2 months and 3 weeks since she died.”

Something like that idc. Basically this section will base around peter living tony, because he’s not doing well, and he is only 17- which is not actually old enough to be on your own after something like this. Setting is established, with cameos from dr strange (who tony is dating and lives with (yeah bite me, this is my fanfiction i can make it what i want.) it will be made obvious that this takes place after endgame, which also means that tony is Not going to die. I’m not that mean lmao. The avengers are like largely together, there was not as much death in this as there was in endgame. Whatever. Everyone is very nice to peter because they know that for him its either this or him becoming a ward of the state so like.

Section two: harley gets kicked out. His mom finds out that he’s gay (from gossip sources idk) and kicks harley out. Im not going to write them having a big fight like in the moment, but harley will recount what happened somewhat to tony in this section, and then more to peter later in the story. Gay ppl trauma dump, we know this. Okay anywaysss so harley calls tony literally sobbing and like freezing fucking cold. IM SORRY IM BEING SO MEAN TO THEM I PROMISE THEY'LL GET A HAPPY ENDING. Okay. harley explains how his mom kicked him out. Tony asks why, harley says something like “she didn’t agree with my lifestyle choices” like bitterly. Tony is a good person in this (i know, im really taking some character liberties) and he’s in the mood for collecting strays apparently, so he has happy send over the quinjet. He can’t make it himself bc hes in fucking japan or something for the next few weeks,, but. Yeah! Tony also calls peter, who is presumably in bed and feeling depressed. “Hey pete. How ya feeling? Any better?’ ‘Not really, tony. Sorry.’ ‘you don’t have to be sorry-’ ‘damn tony you sound like my therapist.’ “sorry pete, but i do have something to tell you- you know harley?’ ‘only from what you’ve told me about him, but yea. He was the tennessee garage kid, right?’ ‘i mean. Yes. so- he’s gonna come stay with me for a while too- it might not be permanent but it will probably be a bit. He’s about your age, and he just has no where to go (just like u). He’s not going to stay in your room or anything, but with bruce and thor here, he will be in your apartment area.’ ‘okay tony.. Will i have to talk to him a bunch?’ ‘not if you don’t want to- i already warned him about you, so it should be okay. I wouldn’t worry so much pete- you guys are so similar in a lot of ways that i wanted to introduce you two long before he called me.’ ‘okay tony, i trust you. Thank you again for letting me stay with you :)’ (yeah that kind of got away from me)

Section 3: build up. this is a shorter section. Harley and peter are gonna meet in section 4. This section is harley’s jet ride (with an intuitive happy) and harley’s nerves about how he really isn’t worth this (i mean hes pretty intimidated tony sent a private jet just for him) and happy like reassures him. Hes still insecure though. Peter is also nervous bc what if harley doesn’t like him? What if he doesn’t like harley?? Tony did say they would get along, but peter hasn’t really been himself recently, so who knows? Yeah lots of that. I do want to emphasize though- peter is not completely unhealthily coping. Like he has a therapist and he has been reaching out to ned and mj, but its still an open wound for him. Obviously. He still has a sense of humor though, but its to cover these deep insecurities. Like the first month or so that he was with tony, he was reallllyyyy trying to not get close to him bc he sort of thinks he kills everyone around him. Like logically he knows this isn’t true, but he does really think the that non superheroes that he surrounds himself with are very at risk if they know about his spider-man-ness. The only people who know now are ned and mj (may knew too).

Section 4: the meeting of harley and peter. Keep in mind peter has been living in this apartment/area of stark tower for about 3 months now. He actually moved in while may was in the hospital because he couldn’t stand to be alone in the apartment when he knew why may wasn’t there. And um. Yeah. so peter is like comfortable in this space, basically. Also- the reason theyre in the same apartment is because stark tower was not really created with the idea of housing broken orphans in mind, so it only has a certain amount of residential space. Thor and bruce are currently staying there together (although no one really knows if theyre together, or if theyre just best bros who went through some extreme trauma together and are now inseparable. Hmmm wonder if thats gonna come up later) and theyre using one apartment, and happy lives there with his own apartment, and tony and stephen are currently sharing the penthouse, even though thats not public knowledge. Really only the people close to tony know that he’s dating stephen. So. this leaves just the one other 2 bedroom apartment for peter and harley. It has one bathroom, and the bedrooms are connected by a door but theyre pretty big so like. Theres a kitchen, a living room with a fancy ass tv, and a really pretty view (with a balcony bc <333). May died in march, peter got leave from the school in april, and it is now the middle of june btw. Tony is now peter’s official guardian (he was before may died anyways) and now has sole guardianship over him which he has fully accepted, even though peter and him both know that there are going to be times where he has to go out of town bc he does own a company after all. Times like right now. Harley is pretty nervous that tony isn’t going to be there to greet him and that he is going to have to like introduce himself to peter and everything. Cmon, theres no reason to feel like that, he’s the one intruding after all, he should at least be able to handle himself. (<--- harley’s thoughts). Yeah so theyre insecure super cool. A n y w a y s so peter was stressing about harley as he arrived, and so when harley walked in they were both complete bundles of nerves. Harley walks up but knocks. Peter actually jumps (bc spidey sense okay whatever) and goes to get the door. Oh my god these awkward teenagers i hate them so much (i love them). Peter kinda looks like shit, sorry king. He was a little bit crying earlier, then tony called and he switched into stressed out ball-of-anxiety mode. Distractions are good, its okay. Peter opens the door for harley and they like introduce each other all awkward (again sorry) and peter shows harley where he is staying. Harley doesnt really have muchhhh bc he was kicked out and all. He just has a suitcase full of clothes, his favorite blanket, his favorite stuffed animal (yeah whatever bc ofc he does) and his phone/charger. He sets all his stuff down at once. He thanks peter for letting him stay in his apartment and also said sorry. First thing peter noticed was harley’s accent. Stfu. peter asks why harley’s here- ok. Harleys had a long ass day. Too fucking long. He- he breaks down. He tells peter a lot. About how his mom found out that he was gay, and how she told him never to come back. Yikes. Anyways, this is establishing the beginning of their relationship as friends. Peter is there for him even though he doesn’t know him at all. Peter sees some of himself in harley in this moment, even though he’s not talking about himself yet. Eventually harley does ask about peter, and they really just get to know each other really quick. They have these deep scarring individual traumas, and neither has nearly recovered, but they find comfort in just knowing that theyre not alone in their suffering. At least for now. At least in this moment.

Section 5: the next day. Peter and harley spent that whole night talking about what they were going through. Peter said good night at around 5 am (there were no adults around they can do what they want to) and they both got good sleeps. In peter’s case, one of the first solid nights he’s had in a while. Harley was kept up a little longer after peter left, however, because he just couldn’t shut off his mind. It was really cathartic for him to just lay everything out there and for someone to just accept him. Peter told him he was bi, but he was.. Lucky. He had accepting people in his life. May was accepting. God, harley couldn’t fathom having lost everyone in his life, everyone he ever cared about, and still having the heart to sit and talk with the dumbass anxious gay kid who can’t go home anymore. His problems felt so small compared to peter’s, and all he could do was admire peter’s resilience and how he was seemingly able to bounce back from anything. God, peter was something. He couldn’t wait to get to know him more. With that thought circling in his head, he finally went to sleep at oh shit 6:30 am. Peter woke up around 1. Harley at 2. When harley woke up, peter was watching tv and eating cereal on the couch and he just sat down next to him. No words, just sleepy children being sleepy. They stayed like this for like an hour when someone knocked on their door. Enter stephen strange!!!!!!!!!!! Get excited people. Hes just coming in to check on them bc tony told him to, and he didn’t get the chance last night bc he was _busy_. K so now he’s here and hes awkward and he just wants to make sure these boys r okay bc theyve both been through too much recently, and it would be just the cherry on top if they didn’t get along. Him and harley had never actually met before so he like introduced himself and all that. Offered like if they needed anything he was there, and its only gonna be a few days until tony gets back (did i say a week earlier? Im retconning that bc i cannot find it in my writing so it is now retconned). Peter and harley just have to sort of explain to dr strange that theyre getting along gREAT and there is no need for concern….. And peter was even thinking about showing harley around the city a bit that night (something he had not yet told harley, but wanted to make it seem like he was doing well and not acting too depressed in front of Dr. Strange) so dr strange is like yeah !!!!!! do that, that sounds super fun petey !!!!!! and so now they have evening plans

ok ps I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and completely forgot I posted something on Tumblr about this fic idea, and so this is literally just how I talk to myself. was not gonna ever post this but then I decided to because I'm bored. there are more sections but I'm not gonna post them rn because this post is really fucking long already!!!!

#hope this is marketable??#sort of just wanted to share my 4 am writing tbh #it doesn't make sense just go w it #parkner #peter parker #harley keener

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gallivantingheart · 4 years

Photo

Me, a Princess? Shut Up!

masterlist | previous | next

⏮️ chapter 4: amelia ⏭️

who?: jihoon/woozi x (f)reader

word count: 1522

genre/s: fluff, humour, social media!au

warnings: coarse language

synopsis: Life’s pretty good for y/n. Easy, even. Until someone claiming to be her grandmother says she is the queen of a small island country - and y/n, a princess.

a/n: thank you so much for your patience! I’ve been pretty swamped with work, seeing as my hours have been upped. but I’m glad this is finally out - I hope you like it!

**please ignore the timestamps - they are not accurate**

TAGLIST: @strykiss, @karrotkarrotkarrot, @3sriracha,

don’t hesitate to send an ask or dm to be added!

When you round the corner of the stairs for your art history lecture, you're still fussing over your hair, oddly put together and feeling better than you can remember. Your shoes are a bit stiff from the newness of it all. There is a strangled cry and your head snaps up. Two pairs of round eyes meet yours and you dash over as quiet as you can before Mingyu can make any more fuss.

"Shhhh, shhhhh shhhhut up!" You hiss.

Minghao squints, giving you the once over. "Oh that’s a new one."

You nod and roll your eyes, slumping against the curved window that walled the hallway. There is no grip on your shoes, so you have to stand back straight to save yourself from falling.

"Yes. The Queen Mother deemed my normal, twenty-something look unfit for the potential public eye. Even if I’m only going to class.” You grumble.

You rifle in your bag - the only thing you wouldn't give up - for a stray hair scrunchie. At least she deemed those within fashion, seeing as they didn't strain your hair too much.

Hao crosses his arms. "You obviously don't like it."

The lecturer opens the door and the three of you ease into the theatre, planting yourselves in your usual spot. You shrug, pulling out your stuff.

"No, I’ve told you guys. It's not like that. I liked the stuff I wore before and I like what I'm in now...most of it, anyway. But, it's all just a bit much."

Mingyu knocks your shoulder lightly with a grin. "You're just not used to the royal treatment. Imagine when you get to try on the really fancy stuff."

In retaliation you flick at one of his pens with your own, watching his lips quickly drop into a pout as Mingyu fumbles to catch it back.

“That’s if I even get that far. I can’t even remember my own great grandfather’s name.” You grumble.

There is a collective hiss of the class to be quiet as the lecture starts, attendance being passed up the rows. Your name still fascinates you as you write it on the roll, so innocuous yet in plain sight. How does no one know who you are?

As you head through the campus for lunch with the boys before splitting for your next lectures, you notice that a lot of heads are turning your way. You can’t help but tug at the lapels of your coat, examining your outfit again. None of it was obviously designer - no brands labelled, etc.. The conversations dying at the sight of you. You can’t help but shrink a little into Mingyu’s side, worry turning down your lips.

“Psst.” You hiss up at them. “Is it just me or are people looking?”

Minghao rolls his eyes. “Don't be silly. It’s just you being paranoid.”

Now someone was pointing at you, gesturing to their phone. The food court is no longer as hustle and bustle as before. A lull in noise before erupting into something a little more frantic, like the rising buzz of a beehive. It feels like a beehive too - the honey white paint and low dingy ceiling from the old part of the university buildings. It’s Mingyu’s shout for lunch today - serves him right - so you keep your head in your phone, scrolling through Amaide’s embassy twitter in case anything about your grandmother pops up. All you’re getting though is weird tabloid articles. You jump, almost flinging your phone from your hands when the embassy’s phone number shows up. This early and so suddenly - it can’t be good.

“H-Hello?” You say, cringing Minghao’s way.

When he frowns, you mouth Queen, and he instantly falls quiet.

“Y/n, come to the embassy immediately. We have an escort waiting at the west entry. An issue has arisen.” Soonhee’s voice is firm and louder than usual.

You stand up, shoving your stuff together, phone pinned to your shoulder. Covering the bottom mic you tell Hao, “gotta go. Royal Emergency.”

He nods. “We’ll talk later.”

You dash out, grabbing your sandwich roll out of Mingyu’s grasp on the way past and jamming it into your backpack for later. Your shoes aren’t gripping the worn brick that lines the pathways of your campus, so you resort to power walking as reasonably as you can.

“Grandma, what’s the matter?” You say breathless.

“Your position has been compromised. We will talk more when you arrive. Hurry.”

She hangs up as quickly as she rang and you swear harshly under your breath at her abruptness. Turning the corner, there is a car parked in a loading zone, flags snapping gently in the breeze.

You tumble in and before you even get a chance to right yourself, the envoy speeds off. The driver doesn’t say a word, so you know it's not Junwoo - that worries you even more. The Queen Mother had put him in charge of you, so why wasn’t he the one picking you up? The car crackles over the round gravel driveway and you spit yourself out as soon as you line up with the door, all sense of propriety out the window. You barely have a chance to settle your posture, reminding yourself of your grandmother’s expectations of arrival when the door flings open to an attendant. He takes your bag, gesturing down the long marble hall.

“Down the end and to the door on the right to the Conference Room, Miss.”

You give him a double take. You’ve never been in that part of the embassy before, unnecessary for your lessons. But you see a series of people rush in and out, phones glued to their ears.

The queen stands at the far end of the oval table, laptops and papers scattered. The screen behind her has a twitter feed up. Wood panelling makes the corporate room deceivingly warm, as does the lemon painting mirroring the tv. From the heavy air condition though, you know better.

“G-Grandma?” You mumble.

She straightens up to stare at you. “Y/n, come.”

“Wh-what’s the matter? Who are these people?”

You take a seat next to her. Junwoo is scanning a manila file, tipping his chin at you in greeting. People, places, numbers. They were looking for someone.

“Amaide Intelligence. But that isn’t your concern. Someone leaked that you are the heir. It’s blown up all over the media.”

You feel as if your stomach drops out of you, sinking and sickly. “When?”

“This morning.”

You think back to not even half an hour ago when it felt like the campus’s eyes were on you - now you know why. But the boys would never spill that kind of secret. You trusted them.

“So, why am I here? Could I not just have gone home?”

You’re feeling exceedingly small and naïve amongst the top secret hustle and bustle around you. Even the queen’s attention is not, for once, fully on you. Tucking a stray strand of grey behind her ear, she glances at you to shake her head.

“No. Not without an escort. You are to stay here for the day until we can find out who has done this. As a matter of safety. See if you can study while you’re here. Or help out if you can.” Dismissive, as usual.

You stand up, tempted to stomp and stalk out the room. Instead, you wait and listen, thinking. If your safety is in danger, therefore so is your family’s. And the boys. You decide to pick up a stray file - Mingyu’s, actually - to see if you can make out what the intelligence team is looking for. But not before sending a message to Mingyu and Minghao to summarise the situation.

It feels like hours of papers and google maps when the door to the room flings open.

“Antoni. Antoni leaked it to The Daily Mail.”

You look up to the unfamiliar voice. A young man with fluffy blonde hair and round cheeks grips a phone in one hand, a scrap of paper in the other. Kwon -

The Queen smiles. “Ah, Soonyoung. Thank goodness. Thank you very much. Junwoo, please call -”

He smiles. “Already did it. He’ll be over at seven.”

Soonhee stands up, hand clasped together. Junwoo is beginning to clean up the files, shutting down computers. You flop your own information closed, sighing in relief. You shoot to your feet though at the glare from the elderly woman, still severe in the dwindling natural light.

“Perfect timing as it is for tea.” Soonhee glides over to the young man, gesturing with a thin hand at you. “Soonyoung, this is the source of all this mess. My granddaughter, Y/n. Y/n, this is Soonyoung, our South Korean ambassador. Very good at his position, as you’ve just seen. A valuable member of your political team.”

He holds his hand out. “Pleasure to meet you!”

You shake firmly, smiling politely. “And you. Tea?”

Which you only offer because your grandmother is staring intently at you. It already feels like another lesson. But with the way he perks up at the mere mention of it, you don’t feel so sour.

“Absolutely!”

Bonus:

#caratwritersclub #seventeen au #seventeen fic #seventeen social media au #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagine #jihoon fic #jihoon imagine #jihoon scenario #seventeen smau #woozi fic #woozi imagine #woozi scenario #woozi x reader #mapsu fic #written

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not-from-the-absence-of-violence · 3 years

Text

For we rise and we fall, and we crash on the coastlines (Only our love will last 'til the end); Chapter 1

thank you to @drowninginstarlights for editing! Heads up for Travis’ and Gable’s terrible dad’s and mom death!

the journey of a selkie, a cursed fisher, a lighthousekeeper, her aprentice and a very confused mortal as their lives intertwine and the magic around them grows.

or a selkie au with general folklore themes!

In the end, Uriel doesn’t even remember what happened. All they have are pieces of their memories, flashes of knowledge. They remember being afraid of the sea, ever since they were young. They grew up in a big coastal city, where the sea was as much your enemy as your only source of income. They remember their father, a deeply unpleasant man. They remember anger. They remember a fire, and a boat sinking, and they don’t think they’ll ever be sure what actually caused it, but that doesn’t matter. There was no doubt in their father’s mind that it was caused by them.

They remember, before that, being in school and being taught not to curse people, not even as a joke, and certainly not on the sea. Magic is finicky business. It doesn’t take much for things to get out of hand.

So here’s the thing. They remember their father spitting his last words at them, but they can never remember the exact phrasing. Must have been something like “may you dwell upon the sea forever,” or “may you never stray far from the sea.” It must have been, because they remember thinking Odd words for a dying man .

There is power in the last words of a dying man, they did not think.

After that, they couldn’t drown. They remember not being able to drown. They don’t remember the months after, the ones they must have spent on some shore somewhere, slowly realising something in their father’s wording must have made it so they couldn’t die. So they couldn’t ever leave.

They stared out to the vast expanse of the ocean, now both their prison and only companion.

William’s father hated magic. He was a wealthy man whose money made money, and he’d never seen any point in such frilly business as magic.

William’s mother, however, had loved magic. Not only that, she’d respected it, and believed that it was important to teach it, as much as any of the other fundamental truths about the universe. There were even whispers that her own mother had come from the sea itself.

Like anything his father hated and his mother loved, William adored magic. He’d stand and stare with great intent whenever his mother had shown him even the most basic of protection charms. But then she’d fallen ill, and then suddenly she was gone. Really gone, gone as in there was no trace of her left in the house, not even her body. It hadn’t taken long for Father to get rid of all her possessions too.

“She’s gone back to the sea,” William would tell people. They’d look at him uncomfortably, clearly thinking this was just a child struggling to process grief, but he always knew better. The only thing he always wondered is why she hadn’t taken him with her.

Years later, his father was on a trip and William was alone. He had grown up attempting to forget about his mother, about everything, but he couldn’t. He’d grown up to enjoy being left alone in his vast house where he never felt at home, spending the downtime between his father’s presence nursing his wounds.

He stared out of the window of the penthouse, dreading his father’s return, hoping with every inch of him that his father’s ship wouldn’t make it to port.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand there any longer, so he turned inwards. There wasn’t much left of his mother’s teachings in the house, his own memories turned fuzzy with time, but he had managed to snatch a single grimoire from the library. Bargains were easy, he imagined, and especially so for him. He too, in some way, belonged to the sea.

So in the middle of a dark, cold night, while the full moon hung heavy in the sky, he went to plead to the waters.

“I am not, I must admit, entirely sure what this whole deal is,” he said, the moonlight shining off the sand around him, “But you took my mother from me.”

He looked at the lapping edges of the water. The sea remained just the sea. The waves came and went.

“I get that you won’t just drown my father for me, and I don’t particularly have much to offer but-” he shuddered a bit, knowing what he was about to do was cruel and very dangerous, “You can take me, William.”

As he spoke his name, the wind picked up suddenly. It smelt of salt and distant rainfall.

“You can take me like you took my mother,” he continued, “And in exchange, I want you to make sure his ship doesn’t get here.”

The sea seemed to agitate, the waves picking up, dark even in the moonlight.

“Did you hear me?” he yelled, raising his voice over the rushing wind, “You just need to drown-”

As he spoke his father’s true name, the world went black.

He hadn’t expected to wake up, after that. It seemed fair enough, a life for a life. Maybe he would get to be a cool water spirit, scaring tourists. Or maybe a fish, with no memories at all. He did not expect to wake up and find himself a seal.

He knew about selkies, sure, but waking up and being a seal was still a shock. He stared at this new body, his new completely different body, attempting to rationalize what he knew was true - that it was him.

The other thing he did not expect was to wake up looking onto the ocean, and seeing a storm raging. There was a ship, tossing up and down with the waves, a very familiar ship. It was so close to port, but he knew that it couldn’t make it. It was sinking. His father’s ship was sinking.

He knew it was the sea showing him their deal was signed. He hadn’t known, not truly, the enormity of his choice until he stared at it, burning in front of him. He didn’t know how to feel as he stared into the sinking ship.

How many people had he just killed? What was he supposed to do?

He stayed there for a long time, looking on until the ship fully disappeared under the waves. Eventually, when there was nothing but dark wreckage on the surface, he dove down into the water. Time to learn how to be a seal.

At least now he didn’t have to be human anymore. At least then he could swim far away, see where the ocean currents take him.

It’s not like there was anyone at home missing him anyway.

Eventually, Uriel got their hands on two things: a small living, and a fishing boat. The boat was just a little too small for them, but it was cozy. She was old enough that her boards creaked in the wind, ropes faded and fraying, and the paint was so worn that her original name was entirely illegible.

Uriel couldn’t die, and they couldn’t leave the waters for too long,or they got antsy. They’d never gone away for long enough to test the ocean's patience, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the consequences. So living on the water was their only option, and as they still enjoyed food and food cost money, fishing it was.

It was a lonely existence, but they discover you can get used to even the loneliest things. They had eternity in front of them to learn how to do their job, and do it well.

They settled in a small town by the name of Safe Harbour. Uriel knew painfully little of magic to understand the how or why, but the town was protected somehow and the magic was strong. Everyone was perfectly content to buy Uriel’s fish, and never talk to them unless they spoke first.

Routine took over and life was almost pleasant. Uriel wasn’t exactly happy, but they imagined this is as happy as people like them got to be, so they pressed on. There was always more fish to be caught.

William met Uriel the only good way of meeting people, which is while robbing them. By now, he was perfectly capable of hunting for his own food, but it was such a chore, and a boring one at that. Other seals could tell he was different, that the sea owned him in a different way, and anway, he couldn’t actually talk to them. He didn’t have to be a seal, all the time. But it wasn’t like he could really talk to the humans either, and the vulnerability of being human once again always set him on edge. So he stayed a seal, and passed back and forth through towns, being a general nuisance.

The only consistent thing about his life these days was stealing, and that was practically second nature. So he didn’t think anything of it when he swam up to a small fishing vessel to get his lunch for the day.

He managed to climb up on the deck, and was about to flop back into the sea, triumphant with a fish in his mouth, when he heard a loud voice.

“Hey!” they shouted.

He froze, turning to look at the irate fisher. He wasn’t the type to be afraid, not anymore, but this person was incredibly tall with long, flowing hair that was almost stark white tied haphazardly back. They had the look of someone who had been on sea for years, but they also didn’t look older than maybe their late twenties. They were also holding a harpoon, pointed menacingly at him.

He wasn’t the type to be afraid, but he was, perhaps, a little nervous.

“I swear those damn seals get smarter every time,” they muttered.

He dropped the fish out of his mouth and sighed. “I have always been this smart, I'll have you know.”

This made them pause, looking at him baffled for a second before they let out a cry and charged at him with the harpoon.

“Whoa, okay no need to be rude,” he said, attempting to quickly move out of the way. But he was, in fact, a seal, and seals aren’t made for quick motions on land, to his dismay.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. He transformed into a man.

The stranger stopped again, the harpoon dangerously close to his body.

“Who are you? And what are you doing on my boat?” they say.

Travis couldn’t help but grin as he held up his hand, with his fish clutched in it. “I feel like it’s rather obvious.”

Uriel didn’t know how to feel. There was a man on their boat. That’s an undeniable fact. First there had been a seal, and now there was a very annoying silver haired stranger, wearing a ridiculous coat and actively stealing their fish with his bare hands.

They could deal with seals. They could deal with other sea creatures. They weren’t in any way prepared to deal with this.

“Asking for names, just like that?” he said, “How rude of you.”

They could feel more annoyance bubbling up inside them. “I wasn't asking for your name!”

The stranger smirked at them again, clearly enjoying getting them riled up. They should have harpooned him to death then and there. They’ll never know why they didn’t.

“Well, you may call me Travis Matagot anyway,” he said magnanimously, dropping the fish and extending a hand.

They stared at it incredulously, before deciding that their life was already so weird, this might as well happen. They shook it.

“You can call me, uh…” they said. It had been so long since they had to give out names like this. “Gable,” they settled on eventually.

“Like the roof thing,” he said, deadpan.

Gable felt their cheeks heating up. “Shut up!” they said, still holding a lowered harpoon in their other hand, “You were stealing from me, what makes you think-”

“I was hungry,” he said, shrugging. He seemed harmless, if very annoying, so they cautiously put the harpoon down.

“Can’t you fish? You are a seal part of the time, apparently.”

Travis visibly relaxed a little once they’re no longer armed. “Now, why would I, when I can have others do it for me?”

“You could have just asked me,” they said.

Now it was Travis’ turn to be taken aback. He stared at them. “What?” he said.

“I have a lot of fish soup,” Gable said, knowing what they were saying is surreal but being certain that by now they were far too late to stop this trainwreck of a conversation.

“Like in general?” he seemed almost amused.

“I always make too much,” they admit.

That's how Travis ended up in their painfully crowded combined kitchen and living room, his coat draped over the back of the chair he was sitting on, staring at a hot bowl of fish soup.

He almost wondered if he ought to accept food at all, but although he didn’t know what to make of Gable yet, they certainly didn’t seem the type to trap him eternally by feeding him.

Gable stared at him, almost self consciously. He almost wanted to pretend he didn’t like it, just to see how they’d react, but regrettably he was hungrier than he thought, and the soup was surprisingly good.

“You liked it,” they said, grinning.

“It was fine,” he said, stopping himself just short of asking for seconds.

“I have spent a lot of time perfecting that soup, Travis.”

He laughed. Time had been something of a laughable concept for a while now. “Well, can’t have been that long. How old are you, twenty five?”

That made his companion pause. They looked down and, honest to god, started counting on their fingers. “Probably forty by now,” they said, looking at him sheepishly. “No clue what that is in seal-man years, or whatever.”

He stared at them, somewhat intrigued at last. But not enough to pry, certainly. “First of all, you must have heard of selkies before,” he said. They gave him a blank stare that meant they honestly probably hadn’t. “And I don’t know either, we don’t age, exactly.”

Gable shrugged. “Sure, did you want more soup?”

“Well if you insist,” he said, passing his bowl to them.

They fell into this new routine together easily. Travis would come and try and steal things or otherwise be an annoyance. Gable would threaten him with increasingly odd weapons or just bodily throw him off the side.

And sometimes Travis stayed, and ate Gable’s repertoire of fish based dishes, or mucked about in the small space of the boat. They both occasionally went to town, although mostly separately, as Gable had the reputation of a gentle constant and Travis was rather more of a trickster cryptid.

They never talked about the pasts that plagued them or the curses on their heads, and they were both entirely too stubborn to admit this is the happiest they had been in a very, very long time.

There wasn’t a single moment that they realised they had become friends, and certainly not one they acknowledged. There was only a night, and a tipsy Travis falling asleep on the couch, his silver gray coat left behind, still slung over the chair he usually ate at. There was only a morning Gable spent staring at it wistfully, telling themselves they shouldn’t read into it.

There was him waking up, not for a second doubting his coat would still be there, safe and untouched.

And so in the fragile silence of their friendship, time pressed on.

#skyjacks #campaign podcast #campaign skyjacks #travis matagot #gable skyjacks #trable #selkie au

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sopxhiea · 4 years

Text

Charm

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Tommy makes an appearance

| Prompt

“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”

It’s late.

Too late for anyone’s liking as the stars serenade the moon through the night, there’s not one loud noise that can be heard in the streets, just a couple of stray dogs and the warmth of homes seeping through the night.

You don’t want to be here.

The corridors reek of rum, there’s no one but you, your assistant and a curly haired man you’re following. The space is empty, darkness of the sky reflects on the surroundings while your eyes travel to the only source of light, the door.

It’s closed.

You know the people behind it. You like one of them, he’s helped you both on business and on a personal occasion once, the favours have been returned to him as well which is why you’re on good terms. You know his family, the way he conducts business and the attitude he has towards most things.

The other person is the one you’re dreading to see.

He’s too direct, stubborn and grumpy. On that one occasion you did business with him, he had somehow managed to annoy you each time you’d seen his face. He was smart, you knew that all too well which why was you had put up with his antics but you had sworn to never torture yourself like that again.

But there you were, walking towards the room both souls were in.

Ollie reached for the door but you were too fast, your impatience towards the whole situation showing as you kicked down the door. It woke both men from their slumber when the wooden piece of furnished cover hit the wall. Alfie murmured a small ‘fucking hell’ which you chose to not hear while your eyes met Tommy’s first.

He seemed tired, he always was. You didn’t know one man around here who actually had the opportunity to sleep soundly at night, yourself included. You didn’t offer him a smile like you usually did. He knew of your distaste to the jewish man in the room and he didn’t question anything you were about to do. His hands reached out to grab your shoulders as an attempt to calm you down but you moved before he could grab you.

“Play nice.” you hear him say when your eyes meet Alfie’s. Your fury is obvious to him, also very charming.

You have no intentions to play nice.

It’s three am on a monday, the day is already rough as it is. You aren’t on your good spirits today, the whole situation is bugging you and so is he with his charming smile as he whispers a small “’ello” your way, you don’t stop staring.

You know of the business he does, you conduct a very similar one of your own. You don’t mind the dirt he carries on his shoulders as it’s far too close to home for you, it’s the attitude he has. He knows that he’s smart, it bugs you. He knows how good he is at doing business, especially the way he has done for himself for the past years, you don’t like that he’s so cocky around you.

“It’s three fucking am.” you speak up, you rarely curse which makes Tommy’s eyebrows move higher than usual.

His eyes meet yours, you seem tired but somehow, you pull it off. He knows of the business you do, needless to say, he’s impressed. It’s hard for anyone to hold up their own in this world, let alone a young woman like yourself.

He knows you don’t like him.

It’s obvious in the way you walk around, seething through your teeth as Tommy’s presence remains the only good thing about the visit you’re making. He knows you can act well, you just choose not to.

Nobody speaks.

“You lot called me in here!” you say, your voice rising as Alfie watches your small form roam around the room.

He admires you.

He knows you have a fire within you. Not only is it visible in your eyes but it’s how you make money. Your wicked ways pay off when you have the face you do, it’s your act. He knows you play the role of clueless beauty all too well, it’s how you gather information and run your own business.

“Now, Y/N..” Tommy speaks and gets up, you’re on his end of the room while Alfie stays seated on the other side of the room.

“Calm down, alright?” he comes near you but you dodge, you don’t want him to reassure you. You need to get straight down to business.

“Shut up, Tommy.” his eyes shoot up at your words, even in his sleepy state. Your words erupt a chuckle from Alfie from the far end of the room, you don’t like that he laughs but his laugh is pleasant enough for you to put up with.

“Oi, listen.” Tommy’s hands finally meet your arms as he holds you in place, he’s serious.

“What?” you say, your voice low as he sighs.

Alfie knows that the fire in your had scared Tommy off many times but his persistency, that he finds admirable as the man tries to get a word out about why you’re called in here at an ungodly hour in the first place.

“Alfie’s found the egg...” he speaks, your breath hitches.

It’s the faberge egg.

You don’t want it for yourself, you don’t care for such commotion in the first place. It’s for someone you adore, also for someone who’ll pay you three times the normal price because he’s dying. You look at Alfie from the other side of the room, his amused eyes meet your cold ones as you speak.

“Where is it?” you don’t skip a beat as words come out of your mouth, you walk towards where he’s sitting but remain at a comfortable distance for you, you know he wants to close the distance as much as possible.

“It’s with the Russians, yeah..” he speaks as you look at him from where you’re standing, his words earn a nod of your head.

You know he won’t just give you the information, it’s not how he works. It’s not how it works. He smiles lowly at first, you know the smile all too well as he gets up, his vanilla scent roams around the room as you watch his every move, he knows how to captivate an audience.

“What do you want, Mr. Solomons?” you ask him, knowing very well just how many times he’d told you not to call him that.

“Now, doll..” he speaks, hands clasping together as he rubs them together, he’s walking towards Tommy around the table.

“Yer gonna ‘ave to do somethin’ for me, yeah?” he speaks and you scoff, what does he want again?

He then proceeds to sit you down calmly as you ignore his warm touch on your shoulder, you listen to him with furrowed brows as he explains a personal job, one that only you can do. Tommy also chimes in every now and then, clearly seeking the opportunity for you to take the egg.

You smile at the end, it’s not smile with good intentions behind but he likes it anyway.

You get up, walk around the room for a short while as both men watch you. You turn back, looking at them both in the face before settling on Alfie’s face, his gaze is never torn away from yours.

“It won’t work..” you say, a mocking expression on your face as Alfie takes the turn to scoff this time. Tommy just watches the two of you quarrel like small kids.

“What the fuck is ‘hat supposed to mean?” he speaks, voice a little higher than usual as you enjoy his riled up state.

“It just doesn-”

“You’re questioning my methods.”

It’s not the first time you’d called his plans that, you genuinely think it won’t work. He’s smart, you know that but he tends to miss details and you know for a fact that details create a vital difference at a job like he’s wanting you to do.

“I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”

He scoffs again, a blooming smile on his lips. A part of him loves this side of you, the side that’s not afraid of him. You fight his rage with the fire that resides inside you, it’s a fair match as far as you can tell.

He looks at Tommy, Tommy just shrugs. He had never been one to reach an agreement with you, you always got your way. Maybe it’s your beauty, Alfie thinks, it lets you get away with people not quite caring what you do but he’s also aware of how smart you are, you wouldn’t be able to last this long in this line of business if you weren’t.

“What do you ye’ fuckin’ suggest we do, hmm?” he speaks, anger evident in his voice as he gets up but you don’t flinch. You’re calmer now that he’s the angry one.

You stand up, knowing very well that both man were watching you and proceeded to talk. You started from why you thought the plan was not going to work, simply said: stupid, and gave reasons as to why, Tommy nodded along your words as if to say that he agreed but Alfie remained silent. You continued to talk, telling him your very rough plan how you would tackle the task down and get the egg from the Russians.

It’s simple and clear for the both men as they stare at you, one of them has already made up his mind.

“Seems doable..” Tommy says while he looks at you, it’s a hard plan but he knows what you’re capable of so he doesn’t push it by saying he wants it to be a safer one. You watch him light a cigarette and soon enough, your gaze is on the bulkier one out of the two.

Alfie pulls at his beard, looks down at the floor and does everything else but to look at you and speak for a while. You’re not bothered, you know he’ll come around when it’s time.

It takes him half an hour.

“You’re sure ya’ can take ‘em?” he speaks, asking about the men you were supposed to take down around the back part of the said building.

You nod, almost offended that he’d doubt you.

“You don’t trust me, Alfie..” you say.

He likes the way you say his name.

“I do, yeah, I fucking know what yer capable of..” he speaks as Tommy nods at the words.

He offers you his hand to shake, as a sign of truce until this job is over. You look down at his awaiting hands, not sure you want to do deal with a man you consider to be unpleasant.

Even though he’s been pleasant this whole time.

You shake your head, hating yourself for doing it because it’s the exact same way as the last time you did business with him. He smiles, it’s genuine and you hate that he’s so charming.

You shake his hand, leaving with a promise to see him a couple of days after to go over things before the night of the robbery comes along.

He knows he’ll see you sooner than that.

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ddaenggtan · 5 years

Text

chasing butterflies | jjk

you never meant to be a jock in school. the volleyball team had just needed people and you were there and then you had a knack for it. you just happened to be good at it and went with it. similar to how you saw jeon jungkook in your friend’s orientation group and thought he was absolutely radiant and just went with it. for two years. you’ve spent the entire time pining from afar, mostly because you always seem to make a fool of yourself when he’s around, but also because jungkook is part of that exclusive crowd, the ones that you never can seem to penetrate: the weebs. that is, until your friends get sick of your hopeless pining and decide to do something about it.

pairing | jeon jungkook x reader

genre/warnings | fluff, college au, coffee shop au, pining, somewhat idiots to lovers, jock!reader, nerd/weeb/otaku!kook, swimmer!kook, jock!jimin, kook smiles a lot, reader is a dumbass, jungkook is a dumbass, everyone’s a dumbass tbh, love confessions, profanity, like a lot of profanity, smut: oral (f receiving), face riding, grinding, hickies, unprotected sex (wrap ur willy before things get silly kids!), creampie, soft!kook except when horny, this is somewhat crack-y, there’s also a very fair amount of secondhand embarrassment in this just fair warning i cringed a lot while writing it

word count | 12.8k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | i busted literally all of this in one day because i couldn’t sleep and had the idea for a coffeeshop au with pining nerd/jock, but i didn’t want to do the trope of pining nerd and i also kept seeing @strawbxxymilk‘s tags saying she was going to fight jungkook, so you can partially blame her for his (love u reni xx) i’m honestly REALLY in love with this fic, it was so much fun to write and even edit, like i honestly have never been happier with how a fic turned out.

If asked, you don’t think you’d be able to point to one exact moment that led to this. You aren’t sure why anything about your college life has been the way it is. You went through almost all middle school and part of high school intending on coasting through under the radar. You didn’t have many friends and you didn’t mind that, citing quality over quantity, and you definitely expected that to continue into your extended school career.

Somehow, though, you ended up on the volleyball team - the captain had seen you playing in a gym class and recruited you. She was adamant that with practice and training, you’d be great, and also they needed at least one more person if they were going to have any chance at competing that year. So you agreed, started practicing, got good, and…kept doing it. You were a talented player, and you made several close friends through the game, ones that had lasted you until even now.

You only got better and better, too, earning you more than one offer from various universities. It was exciting when you finally chose one, and even more exciting that your friend group almost tripled overnight. University teams were large, you discovered, and while that meant more competition, it also meant more friends. More friends that had more connections to people on other teams, in other sports, who were also fun and extroverted and threw really good parties.

You like to think you’re still that little nobody from middle school. You enjoy your readings and your coursework, and a lot of nights you choose to stay behind in your shared apartment instead of going out. As much as you like to think that, though, you can’t help but face the truth every time you look in the mirror after practice or a game or a workout.

You’re a jock.

You don’t even know why. The labels were supposed to end when high school did, and yet here you were. You pretty much only hang out with other sporty people, since no one has much time to make friends with anyone they didn’t see five times a week and every other weekend. You have a strict workout regimen that you run through with other girls from the team. Your class schedule is built around your volleyball schedule. You call yourself an athlete. You get looks sometimes, from the smart kids who think they’re better because you’re ‘only’ an athlete and they’re not. It reminds you of the people who look down on other sports because theirs is the only ‘true’ sport. Those people used to piss you off, but you’ve grown used to them now; there would always be people who thought they were better because of some imagined divide.

Realistically, there is no divide. People are free to associate with whoever they want, fuck the social norms that become ingrained in high school to contrast class differences. Okay, your Societal Influences class may have skewed your thinking a bit, but your point stands. You had no good reason to conform to the antiquated ideas of high schoolers.

So why, why, are you still standing by a waffle maker and staring helplessly at him?

Jisoo nudges you and you move to let her at the waffle, not looking away from him. She follows your line of sight and laughs when she sees him. “Seriously?” She asks, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” You groan, popping part of a roll into your mouth.

“It’s been almost three years,” She teases. “How have you not worked up the nerve to talk to him?”

“Two years, three months,” You correct as you follow her to where the chocolate syrup and fruit await for her waffle monstrosity. You can’t even look at it anymore, sickened by the mere sight of all the sugar stacked atop it.

“That is not helping your case the way you think it is.”

“I can’t just…talk to him, he’s gonna think I’m weird. Who just walks up to someone and says ‘hi, I saw you in my friend’s orientation group two years ago and thought you were the most beautiful man in existence, and still think that in fact, would you mind going out with me?’” Jisoo levels you with a look that could make cacti wilt.

“Uh, plenty of people do that every day. That’s how relationships happen. I know you’ve got this big hard-on for this whole…pining, lovesick idiot look,” She barrels on, ignoring the squawk of defiance you let loose, “But it’s getting kind of hopeless. That one guy asked you out, like, last month, and you literally laughed at him.”

“In my defense, he was like way older than us! I don’t want to go out with a grandpa!”

“I cannot believe you just called Kim Seokjin a grandpa, the entire team is going to revolt against you for this.”

You huff and lead her to the table you picked out, which she very kindly does not mention gives you a perfect view of him while you pick at your food. She continues to rant at you about your hopeless crush, but you don’t even hear her anymore, because he’s laughing at something across the dining hall and it makes your chest tighten.

God damn, you don’t know how in the hell someone so fucking nerdy can make you so fucking weak in the knees.

Across the room, Jungkook adjusts the round lenses that have been sliding down his nose, and it makes your heart flutter. He laughs again at something someone beside him said. His nose scrunches as he does it, and the cute bunny teeth are obvious, and it makes you want to die a little inside but also throw him off a bridge a little bit. He starts talking, animated and excited, and you wonder what it is he’s talking about. You can almost pretend that he’s talking about you for a second, until he pulls something out of his bag and sets it on the table, covering it with his hands before pulling them back in a dramatic effort to reveal–

God, it’s a fucking Hatsune Miku figurine.

You feel like sobbing at the sight. “God, he’s such a fucking weeb,” You say, hatred for yourself rolling off the words in absolute waves. Jisoo huffs, probably annoyed that you haven’t been listening to her rant, and waves a hand.

“You knew this,” She tells you bluntly. The issue is that she’s 100% correct; the first time you ever remember seeing Jungkook, he was in a God damn Naruto cosplay, dumbass wig in his hands while he adjusted his ninja headband, and he was still the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid your eyes on.

His eyes dart over like he could hear your thoughts and he makes eye contact; you get whiplash, you look away so fast. Your face is burning, you can feel it, and you’re actually in danger of staring a hole into the table with how hard you’re looking at it.

“You’re safe, he isn’t looking anymore,” Jisoo eventually says. You chance a glance to see that Jungkook is focused on whatever conversation he’s having, Hatsune Miku nowhere to be seen and replaced with a very pretty red flush across his cheeks. You audibly coo over the sight and Jisoo pretends to gag.

“Don’t you have class?” She says. It’s obviously an attempt to distract you, she’s always so transparent about those things. Jungkook looks over again and suddenly your phone becomes the most fascinating thing in the entire world. You balk at the time, because fuck, you really do have class in two minutes.

“Bye Jisoo, love you, don’t gorge yourself on waffles, or Rose will kill you at practice!” You shout over your shoulder as you bolt from the dining hall.

You don’t see nor feel the eyes on your back as you go, too focused on making the five-minute walk into a sixty-second sprint.

Work is boring. It always is. You work the overnight shift, 9 pm to 4 am, so that you can balance your volleyball schedule and your classes and your bills. If there were less 24-hour coffee shops around, it may be busier, but alas, the trend of having spaces for haggard and exhausted college students to roll into at all hours of the day had caught on, and thus, you work at one of four all-night coffee shops. And that’s only on this side of campus. There were even more on the other side, where the dorms were, and they see much more traffic than yours. Kids never want to go very far to get caffeine, so the ones across the way were always bustling and packed full of people writing last-minute papers and emailing for sources and who knows what else.

Which meant that only the stray customer wandered in after dark, usually people getting off work and wanting to unwind for a second before heading home. You got a lot of homeless people, camping out in corners away from other people and sipping on one coffee for hours at a time. Some of the other workers complained about them, but you didn’t really care one way or another. If it kept them off the street and out of the cold, then you’d let them sit there as long as you could. It wasn’t like there were many people around to complain, anyway.

Of course, the few customers meant that there were fewer interruptions to the daily tasks you had to do, so it only takes an hour or two, max, every night to get everything clean, stocked, polished, and counted. Which left another five for you to fill.

You sigh, staring at a blank page of your notebook. You’re lucky your boss doesn’t care if the workers do schoolwork on the job, so long as the work gets done and the customers are happy, but just this once you curse him for being so kind. You’ve been procrastinating this essay for a week and it was due next class, but you had absolutely no idea where to even start. You sigh again and straighten as the bell over the door rings, the customary 'Welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you today?’ already halfway out before you actually look up.

You choke on air as Jungkook smiles at you, small and shy and sweet, and you can actually feel part of your soul shrivel up and die along with every single one of your brain cells. You stare at him for a solid six seconds as he peruses the menu hanging above your head, and you’re so focused on memorizing the way he looks this close up that you nearly miss his order.

“A large iced black, please?” He phrases it like a question and it’s adorable, despite the countless times you’ve bitched to Jisoo about people doing the exact same thing in the past. You tack on your customer service smile as best you can and ring him up.

It’s a relief to turn away from him to actually make his drink. He’s gorgeous, even with the dumbass hoodie with some naked anatomy model on it that has to be from some anime, that it makes it hard for you to breathe. He’s not even wearing the nerd glasses and it just makes his eyes so much more obviously beautiful, and you know Jisoo is going to whine about hearing you wax poetic over them for weeks after this. Your hands shake as you pour the coffee into the cup and click the lid into place, but you force yourself to steady them as you hand it to him.

He’s blushing again, and you want to kiss it so badly, and he waves. “Thanks,” He says as he starts to leave. Your brain is torn between responses, one half reverting to your generic response and the other wanting to assure it him it was absolutely not anything he needed to thank you for, and you can feel the stupidity coming, but you cannot stop the words as they claw up your throat and you nearly shout–

“Your problem!”

He falters in his steps, turning to give you a confused look, and you’re honestly disappointed the earth doesn’t quake and part to drag you directly to the pits of hell, because even that would be less painful than having to maintain your professional demeanor like you didn’t just say the absolute stupidest thing you’ve ever said in your entire fucking life.

Jungkook just nods and strides out of the coffee shop, bell dinging in his wake.

The screech you unleash in the break room a few seconds later is inhuman and chilling, and yet Rose doesn’t seem at all fazed.

“I would say you should just talk to him, but clearly you can’t even do that like a normal person.” She pats your arm as you bang your head into the table, and you consider the option of getting new friends.

You’re no stranger to wild Jungkook sightings. You both go to the same university, you both have similar classes, you both take full advantage of the dining hall at every opportunity, you both use the library. It’s hard to go ten feet on campus without seeing someone you know, and it’s even harder when you’re actively looking for that person everywhere you go.

So you’ve already seen him a couple of times after the Your Problem Incident - and you may have turned around and completely avoided even thinking about it, but who’s going to judge you for that, really - when you walk into an extra-credit lecture for one of your science classes to immediately zero in on the familiar grin.

You’d foolishly believed this would be a popular lecture and as such would be held in one of the big lecture halls, the ones that seat 100+ people, but no. Of course not. This was in a regular ass classroom, with regular tables and regular students and regular everything, including the dumbass that regularly stars in every single one of your daydreams. The impulse to turn and run jolts through you, but before you can do exactly that, Nayun is calling your name and waving you over to the seat she saved just for you.

Right in front of him.

Several people turn at her call, but you focus your gaze on the chair and refuse to look to see if he’s looking at you. You refuse, you will not be that girl, you have standards, dammit, and grades to keep up, and immense public humiliation to pretend never happened.

You have to pass him to sit at your chair since Satan himself designed the classroom and put the door at the back of the room, as only a literal demon would do. You focus on not falling flat on your face, as you’ve been prone to do when Jungkook is in your range of vision, and as such you’re wholly unprepared for the way his scent floods through your brain.

You’re able to sit before you collapse entirely, legs shaking because he smells so fucking good. You’ve become accustomed to the boys’ volleyball team, who’re known for always wanting to hang out right after practices but not ever wanting to shower after practices. You’ve been friends with guys before. You are very close with several of the guys on the volleyball team. You’ve been around college dudes for three entire years. You know how guys smell, you know they all tend to get wrapped up in whatever boys think about and neglect their own hygiene unless gently reminded that no, Taehyung, girls do not like it when a guy is sweaty.

Apparently, one dude didn’t get the memo, because Jungkook smells like fucking heaven. Clean linens and summer flowers and rainstorms, with a lingering and faint whisper of chlorine that shoves you into the nostalgia of high school summers at the pool with your friends. It’s glorious and wonderful and you’ve never been close enough to smell him before, which you also never thought would ever go through your brain.

You wish you could say you’ve never thought of how he might smell, you really do. But the truth is you are a girl in love, with an overactive imagination and a lot of time spent not writing essays. You’ve imagined a lot of things. And yet. Even in your wildest daydreams, there is no possible way you ever could have expected it to floor you the way it did.

Nayun is saying something and you’re nodding along, but she could be telling you the secret to life itself and you would never know. You’re too focused on him. You can’t look at him - a blessing and a curse, because now you may be able to pay attention to the lecture, but you’ll also be too distracted to think about anything but if he’s looking at you - but you can hear him. You’ve heard him speak before, you’ve built up somewhat of a resistance to his voice and the way it slides along the air, which is such a sappy romantic thing to think but here you fucking are.

You have not, however, heard him speak for such a long period of time about the continuity errors in Boku No Hero Academia. You don’t even know what the fuck that is, never heard the phrase in your entire life, but he’s so passionate about it that you can’t help but listen. He’s making all sorts of points and giving all kinds of examples and you want to nod along just to encourage him. For all you know he could be wrong about every single instance he mentions but fuck, he just sounds so sure of himself and so absolute that it has you wanting to agree.

The sheer confidence in what he’s saying has you getting weak in the knees. He’s such an absolute fucking weeb, and yet it’s always been so sexy to you when someone knows their shit and can prove it. You could have gone your entire life without knowing that that particular kink extended to fucking anime.

The professor walks in shortly after and you are blessedly saved from more of Jungkook’s rants about anime inconsistencies. You’re impossibly wet and you curse yourself for the millionth time for somehow falling for the biggest dork the planet has possibly ever seen. You focus all of your attention on the lecture, doing your best to take notes even as you find yourself doodling the best (read: atrocious) representations of Jungkook in the margins of your notebook.

You groan on the way out. You’d spent the full hour and a half taking sporadic notes between doodles of Jungkook as a prince. You still couldn’t decide if you were imagining the feeling of someone watching you, either. Nayun just laughs and leads you to the dining hall for dinner before you both had to head to practice.

You are blessedly free of Jungkook for exactly four days. It is, in fact, a new record, since the first time you saw him.

It’s turned your life into a hellscape and you hate it.

You look for him around every corner and past every door, and more than once you’ve caught yourself expecting him to walk through the door at the coffee shop for absolutely no reason. You’ve only ever seen him there the one time. There was literally no reason to expect him to show up ever again, and yet each time someone walked in, you responded as if it was the 1500s and the king himself had entered the building.

If you’re being honest, though, your biggest issue with not seeing Jungkook’s dumb ass for four entire days is that it is just long enough for you to start to expect not to see him. It’s just enough time for you to get so accustomed to not seeing him around that you stop turning corners and looking for him immediately. You don’t immediately think 'this is it’ when the bell above the shop door rings. It takes a second to kick in, a delayed response that is still habit but one on its way out.

You miss him, that is definite. You find yourself wishing that he would show up out of the blue one day, spouting some nonsense, just for the sake of hearing it again. His rants about which Bleach character would actually win a fight because 'well, according to the manga,’ his tirades about how the revamp of Voltron is nowhere near as genuine as the original and is clearly pandering, you just…miss it. You never understand a goddamn thing he’s saying but it’s so fucking attractive. He’s so passionate about all of it and he’s so knowledgeable that even the discussion you overheard in the library about the top ten most powerful moves in the entirety of YuYuHakusho had you dripping and running for your apartment, and you miss that.

At this point, though, you should know the universe fucking hates you.

It’s late, close to 2 am, you haven’t slept in too long because you had an away game that afternoon that you lost on a fucking bullshit call and then had to stay to watch the boys’ team play. They, of course, crushed their opponents, which you were proud of, but it only made your defeat that much more bitter. You were still pissed about it when you rolled into work that night, Rose lagging behind to talk to the coach and Jimin glowing beside you with how well his team had done.

You’re tired, you’re pissed, you’re starving, you have a test in six hours that you haven’t studied for, the cafe is mercilessly dead, there’s a guy in the corner building an actual literal scale model of a castle, and all you can think about is the bullshit ref insisting that the ball touched Jisoo’s elbow after she made contact and completely fucking over the last serve of the game in favor of your opponents.

Jimin, the light of your life and angel among men, had gotten your food before your break. It isn’t fancy, two quick drive-thru burgers with fries and a drink, but it may as well be the nectar of the gods with the way you’re inhaling it. The angel and future father of your immaculate conception babies sits on one of the stools against the counter, chin in his hand as he watches you eat. He looks torn between horror and fascination and you can’t blame him for it. It must be a sight to behold: you, behind the shop counter, elbows planted for maximum efficiency, mouth stuffed full of French fries, ripping viciously into a burger as you continue to go off about the bullshit that was your match that day.

Really, you wouldn’t be this mad any other day. But the combination of so many shitty things - hunger, exhaustion, stress, frustration, not having seen the love of your life Jeon Jungkook in y e a r s - has you absolutely livid. You’re well past the end of your break by now, but Rose knows all too well how you are and is graciously letting you vent until you’re less ready to rip the head off the next person that comes in the door.

You express the sentiment to Jimin, who laughs, the fucker, and fail to realize that someone has, actually, just walked into the coffee shop. You’re halfway through your sentence - “I swear to God, Park, if I see that fucking ref again, I’m gonna rip his balls off and shove them so far up his ass that he starts to digest them, what kind of bullshit even was that, her elbow was nowhere near the ball, that foul never would’ve stood if we had been on our court,” - when it registers that Rose is taking an order. You glance over, out of habit more than anything, and proceed to attempt to inhale the food crammed into your mouth as you gasp.

Of course, of fucking course, Jungkook would show up while you’re like this. Your hair is a mess, still damp from the post-game shower, you’ve got some kind of stain on your shirt from the food that’s absolutely smashed into your mouth, and you’ve just been basically shouting expletives all over your workplace, which he definitely heard. It’s made worse because he’s staring at you, eyes wide behind his stupid round glasses, and his striped shirt with fucking ridiculous overalls. You’re torn between planting one on him since he looks so fucking cute and bewildered, decking him straight in the face because where the fuck has he been, and just bolting straight out of the shop because the guy you’ve liked for two fucking years witnessed all of that and you want to die.

You stare at him and he stares at you, looking as shocked as you feel. Jimin is just looking between the two of you, a shit-eating grin overtaking his face as he starts to connect dots you never ever wanted him to connect, because-

“Jungkook-ah, I didn’t know you came here!” Jimin says, grinning at the younger boy and one of his very best friends. He’s got a glint in his eye that you recognize and you contemplate not for the first time if you could actually impale him with a coffee stirrer.

“Oh, yeah, well…” Jungkook stutters and you hate that it’s so cute. “The others close to my dorm are all really busy at this time of night, y'know, so I like to get coffee on this side of campus so it’s still coffee and not watered down when I get back to my dorm.”

“Why don’t you just drink it here?” Jimin asks as he stirs his own coffee that had long since gone cold, as if he had every right in the world to offer up your coffee shop to a literal God among men. “It’s quiet, you could probably get more work done here than in your dorm. I remember you said your neighbors have been keeping you up.”

Jungkook turns red and looks away. Rose takes the opportunity to slide his iced coffee across to him and he takes it with a smile that makes your heart melt. You watch the exchange with more focus than you probably should, and the food is forgotten in lieu of your future husband right there in front of you for the first time in days.

“I guess I could,” Jungkook eventually says, eyes darting all over. They rest on you every few minutes before quickly flying away, and it makes you even more self-conscious of the stain on your shirt and the way grease has no doubt pooled around your mouth. You grab a napkin to try to clean yourself up as Jungkook continues. “I just don’t know if I could focus here, y'know, there’re a lot of…distractions.”

The silence that follows the statement is deafening, only broken by the quiet huffs of the guy building a castle in the corner.

Jungkook turns even redder and ruffles the back of his hair. It’s impossibly cute and you’re halfway to offering to ruffle it for him, either between his sheets or in the alley out back, when Jimin cuts you off.

“Well, you should consider it, at least. I always have the best times here, even with all the distractions.” Jimin sips at his coffee as he speaks and you get the very distinct sense that he’s teasing Jungkook about something you don’t know. The younger boy just smiles and gives a quick bye to Jimin and Rose. You like to think his smile softens as he looks at you, and the way he says your name as he waves will forever be embedded into your mind.

He’s gone before you can respond and you’re glad, sure you must be at least as red as the strawberry syrup. Jimin whirls on you the second Jungkook is out of sight, Rose doing her best to pretend she isn’t mortified for you.

“I cannot believe that you didn’t tell me - me - that the guy you’ve been pining after all these years is Jungkook.” Jimin sounds scandalized and betrayed and his face just makes you think of- “Top Ten Anime Betrayals, really.”

“Fuck, this is exactly why I didn’t want you to know! I used his codename for a reason.” You whine, dropping your head to the countertop with a resounding thud.

“Oh, yes, because Dumb DumbDook is oh-so-subtle,” Rose mutters. You ignore her.

“I could have been doing wingman work this whole time, though! Imagine how much further along you’d be if I’d been able to hype you up every time I hang out with him. You’d be able to talk to him, five words at least.” You smack Rose when she laughs.

“No, absolutely not. There’s no way it’s gonna happen, Jimin, I can’t set myself up for that failure.” You shake your head and go back to your food, though you’re much less angry after seeing your weeb. “Besides, we’ve got like…nothing in common, what would we even talk about?”

“Are you serious?” The deadpan is what catches your attention, and when you glance up, the look Jimin is giving is scathing. “I’ve heard you gush about his nerd rants, alright, you said yourself you could listen to him talk for weeks without getting bored of hearing his voice.”

“Conversations are a two-way street, Jimin. What the fuck could I contribute to that?”

“Uh…you’re kidding me, right? You didn’t see that face he made while you were doing your whole 'I’m gonna shit talk the ref because he made a call I didn’t like’ thing.”

“It was bullshit and you know it, he never would’ve done that shit for the other side.”

“Point stands, dude. Kook could listen to you go off about your sports shit for just as long as you could with his anime shit. I’d put money on it.”

“You’re delusional, Park, but I’m gonna let you live in this fantasy world because it’s nice to have company here.” He scoffs but doesn’t press the topic, which you’re thankful for. Instead, you fish your study guide out of your bag and hand it to him so he can quiz you about the test you have in four hours.

It seems that Jungkook takes Jimin’s word as law because he starts to show up more and more often. At first, it was just the coffee shop, where he would order his iced black and then leave with a shy smile that had you melting. Then he was at the library at the same time you were, one table over and typing furiously away at his laptop. You assumed it was for a class until he disappeared and returned with a printed copy and you caught the “Neon Genesis Evangelion: A New Order, Chapter Five” at the top.

You won’t lie, you did judge him just a bit for that because you don’t even know anything about the show but no way in hell would you be caught dead printing your fanfic on wireless school computers when cloud hacks are a thing.

He appears at your favorite takeout place, too; not that he saw you since you dove behind a fish tank to avoid getting caught. You’d watched carefully through the water as he waited, looking around in the meantime as if in search of something. He almost looked dejected when he left, though you didn’t know why until you got your food and found out they were out of crab rangoon like you hadn’t just been playing peekaboo with one in the fish tank for twenty minutes.

The thing that really gets you, though, the one that grinds your gears, is how he makes the coffee shop his thing. He just keeps showing up, night after night, and while at first he just left with his coffee, he apparently decided that wasn’t enough, because now he stays. He parks himself at the corner table near the outlet and taps away at his laptop while you try to do any semblance of work. He’s so distracting. He makes the most adorable faces - the brow furrow and slight frown when he’s focused and trying to figure something out, the clenched jaw with tongue in cheek when he’s irritated or frustrated, the cute ass bunny smile that makes you want to jump off a bridge and/or push him off a bridge.

Honestly, if you’re being truthful, you could’ve gotten used to that. He’s quiet and doesn’t talk much and even though you can feel him nearby like a sunflower to the sun, you could’ve managed eventually.

The issue is that his nerd friends start joining him, and they are not quiet. They are loud and argumentative and enjoy debating their dweeb things and they especially enjoy dragging Jungkook into said dweebates, if you will. Which in and of itself is not terrible. You’ve had a literal debate team in here practicing, you’re accustomed to that kind of thing.

No, the issue is that Jungkook is like the king weeb. He seems to know everything about everything complete with sources to back it up and even if he doesn’t know something he can either find out in ten seconds or he can bullshit his way to being right. And it’s so goddamn sexy. He just fucking…owns the other nerds, no matter what the subject is, and he’s so confident and sure and he gets sassy with them when he knows he’s right and they’re wrong. The body language, the expression on his face, the way he just stomps them into the dirt…it gets you hot and bothered every fucking time, and it’s a problem, because you’re at work. It is not socially acceptable to kidnap someone into the break room to fuck their brains out because they just won an argument about whether Yu Gi Oh or Pokemon was a more successful trading card game.

It’s made even even worse because Jungkook has started to pay attention to your rants. Every time you have a game or watch one with the team, you and Rose spend at least part of your shift talking about the ups and downs, what can be improved, what you specifically need to work on and how you can do it. One night the two of you spent upwards of an hour debating whether Lang Ping or Mireya was a better overall player and why, and when you finally stopped to restock the coffee beans, Jungkook was staring at you with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

Of course, that was when you turned and hid in the storage room for the rest of your shift, but the point fucking stands.

Jeon Jungkook is a menace and he is taking over your life and you really should be more mad about it. It almost comes to a head when Jimin drags you to a swim meet, which you have attended exactly zero times in your entire life because who the fuck cares about swim meets.

“Trust me,” He had pleaded. “I want to go to support some friends, but I’m gonna be bored if I have to sit alone on the bleachers.” You’d eventually caved when he promised to buy you food, and now your ass was planted on the most uncomfortable stand seats you’ve ever been on and you were about to pop a blood vessel because Jimin was being so fucking infuriating about everything. He’d pulled you straight from practice, not letting you change or shower or anything, and he’d been trying to goad you into a debate the entire time you’d been waiting for the meet to start. It was legitimately starting to get you riled up, even as you stretched your legs out, thighs spread wide as your fingers massaged the muscles in your familiar post-game routine.

“For the last fucking time, Jimin, no, the Canada/Mexico save was not better than the fucking Italy/France save!” He rolls his eyes, but he opened this can of worms so now he has to suffer with you. “It was flashier, sure, with the sliding and the moving of the barriers, but the Italy/France save was more technically sound and less likely to result in any kind of ref interference. They were both good, sure, but there is no way you can truly believe that the flashier and less technically sound and less safe of the two is actually better.”

“Oh, your boyfriend’s waving,” Jimin says as he smiles and waves, eyes turning into crescents as he does.

“What? I don’t have a-” You stop when you look. You really should have expected this because life is a cruel mistress and the universe itself is even crueler, but here you were. Rendered speechless by the sight of Jungkook. In swim pants. Shirtless.

“You’re drooling,” Jimin comments dryly.

“Fuck off, it’s not my fault he’s sculpted by the gods.” You don’t even bother to look at Jimin, too focused on the way Jungkook’s back flexes as he pulls himself out of the water. Time legitimately slows, water falling off of him and trailing down abs you did not know were there, and your heart honest to God stops beating. “What the fuck is he even doing here?”

“He’s on the swim team,” Jimin smirks and calls Jungkook over before you can shove your hand over his mouth. “Kook-ah, good luck! You’re gonna do great!”

“Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook says with an excited grin as he jogs over. You don’t think you take a single breath in the five minutes they chat. Your chest may actually explode, and you’re tempted to dive into the pool not two feet away to cool off. Jungkook steps back like he’s going to leave, giving you a small smile as he does.

“Wait, Jungkook, remind me, how did you get into swimming? Someone was curious,” Jimin nods ever so subtly to you but you can’t even find the strength to be upset because Jungkook’s chest is right there and you want to run your tongue along his muscles.

“Oh, there’s actually this anime called Free! I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, it’s really good, but it’s about these swimmers. They complete and a lot of it is them learning how to get better at their techniques so I thought, 'well, that can’t be that hard can it?’“ You let out a quiet sob. He’s just…you clench your fist in your lap and sigh. He’s just such a fucking nerd. Jungkook shoots you a somewhat worried look but continues. “It’s how I learned archery and boxing, too. I saw them in manga and got really interested and figured if the characters can do it, why can’t I?”

“God, that’s so fucking nerdy,” You mutter. It doesn’t register that you spoke out loud until you see Jungkook’s reddening face and hear Jimin’s soft choke. “In a good way! I mean, I think it’s…it’s really awesome that you just saw it and did it, that’s really…” Don’t say sexy. “…cool.”

Jungkook stares at you, cheeks reddened, and you struggle not to start digging your own grave here and now in the middle of this indoor pool area. You’re about to stand and do exactly that when Jungkook’s face brightens and his nose crinkles and the most blinding grin you’ve ever seen in your life takes over his face as his shoulders bunch up. Your eyes are probably actual fucking hearts now, it’s easily the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen on a human male as tall and buff as he is, and it kind of makes you want to shove him in the pool.

You really don’t have to, though, because he just shakes his head and turns to go back to the swimmer’s benches or whatever they’re called in swimming. He’s ruffling the back of his hair again and watching the ground, but he keeps turning back to beam at you and Jimin. You see it before Jimin does, and both of you start to call for him when his heel slips and he falls completely back into the water.

Every face in the area turns to look at where Jungkook is surfacing, wiping his face and slicking his hair back out of his face. The sight of it nearly sends you into heart palpitations because you honestly didn’t think he could get more fucking attractive but you were wrong. You force yourself to calm down because Jimin is too busy rolling on the ground beside you to be of any use in resuscitating you if your heart actually gave out.

“Ah, nani,” You hear Jungkook mutter as he climbs out of the pool and you wish you had a brick to hit yourself with because of course, of fucking course, he looks so fucking good and is so fucking bone-meltingly hot and still says weeb shit like ‘ah, nani’ when he falls into a goddamn pool.

You’re honestly legitimately fucked and the fact that you don’t even care anymore says a lot more about you than you want it to.

It all actually comes to a head nearly a week after the swim meet. The sight of a wet and dripping and half-naked Jungkook doesn’t leave your mind, forever burned into your retinas, but even more wonderful is the shy, bashful Jungkook that greets you the next day at the coffee shop. It’s almost like he thinks you’re going to tease him, as if he didn’t see you shoving your whole mouth full of junk while cursing out a ref, as if he didn’t fully hear you tell him ‘your problem!’ with a happy grin and death in your eyes the first time he came into the shop.

It’s just…it’s so fucking cute that you physically cannot contain it anymore, and you find yourself bemoaning your state of perpetual adoration with Jisoo and Rose while you all shower after the latest match.

“I’m just going to suffer for the rest of my life aren’t I?” You say, speaking louder than you typically would in order to be heard over the several showerheads currently running. “It’s too much for my heart to take, absolutely too much, he’s too fucking…ugh, clenches fist, he’s too fucking cute.”

“Did you just verbalize the ‘clenches fist’ meme?” Rose shoots from her own stall. You shoot a face at the wall separating you, not that she can see it. “Listen, you know how I feel about this. You need to make a move because that boy never will. He’s a mess.”

“Wow, who else do we know that’s also a mess at all times for the guy they’ve liked for years?” Jisoo comments from her own shower across the way. You groan and kick your stall door, which only results in a muffled curse and you cradling your toe as you balance precariously on one foot.

“Do not injure yourself, we have a tournament next weekend,” Rose says offhandedly. You huff.

“Why would I even make a move? He’s got…Hatsune Miku and anime girls and shit.”

“Oh, of course,” Rose says. “I forgot, every guy would willingly give up a gorgeous, real-life girl willing to fuck him senseless for a pretty cartoon. Silly me.”

“What I don’t get,” Nayun calls from the locker room proper. “Is why you think he isn’t interested. He gets a chub every time he so much as looks at you, and don’t think Jimin didn’t tell me about the swim meet. The boy fell into a pool.”

“Yeah, because he’s a goddamn idiot.” You shake your head and wash the conditioner from your hair.

“What if we dare you to do it?” Rose’s voice echoes from too close. You turn and see her silhouette against the plastic shower curtain. She takes your confused silence as permission to continue. “Seriously, if we dare you to ask him out, will you?”

“What the fuck,” You say, sticking your head out of the curtain to level a glare at her. “I’m not ten years old, why the fuck would I do something just because you dare me to?”

“Bet, then,” Jisoo says as she wraps her hair in a towel. Your eyes must be wide as saucers because she laughs. “Bet on it. If the boys lose this game, you have to ask him out.”

“No no,” Rose says, and a familiar and all-too-dangerous grin spreads on her face. “If the boys lose this game, you have to confess. Do the gift and the letter and the whole fucking anime thing for him. If they win, we’ll drop it, and listen to your moaning and groaning for the rest of forever without complaint or comment.” Jisoo and Nayun look much too excited at the prospect, but you’ve been watching the boys play all season.

“What kind of bet is that? The boys haven’t lost a game all season.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?” Rose says, grinning as she saunters over to put her street clothes on. “Five minutes before game start.” You curse and rush to finish your shower, determined not to run laps for being late again.

As fate would have it, you do have reason to worry, because apparently, the rival university recruited some fucking professional athlete super mutants or some shit. It’s a close game, the boys only losing by one, but with the level of skill they’ve been playing with all season, it should’ve been an easy win.

And yet.

You’re standing outside the boys’ locker room, waiting patiently for Jimin. It’s a routine you got into when you first met, just after you’d both joined the respective teams. He would wait for you and you would wait for him, as long as it took, especially after a loss. You’re still in shock, still reeling from the game itself. You would almost think Jimin had found out about the bet and thrown the game, just to get you to shut the fuck up about Jungkook, if you didn’t know him.

If you didn’t see the dedication he put into the game, the perfection he expected of himself and his team. It rivals even Rose’s, and you can hear him yelling from where you stand, slamming what is probably his fist into a locker several times before he falls silent. As much as you had riding on this game, as pissed as you are that you lost the bet, you know it’s minuscule in comparison to the way Jimin feels, and you can’t even summon up enough energy to fool yourself otherwise. You’ve known him too long.

When he finally does emerge, you help wrap his knuckles with a clean bandage and ruffle his hair. “It’ll be alright, Park,” You tell him, quiet. He doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you sling your arm around his shoulder to lead him to your car. He’s quiet the rest of the night, even as you eat shitty fast food burgers in your car, even as he sits at the counter at the coffee shop, textbook open in front of him but not reading it.

“So I bet the girls that I would do an anime confession for Jungkook if you lost, you wanna help me plan it?” You ask him towards the end of your shift, long after said dork is gone from the shop. It’s the only time you see Jimin smile all night, but it’s worth it for the way his eyes crinkle and he starts outlining ideas.

“Did you even sleep last night?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Jimin responds as he chugs the rest of his coffee. Calling it coffee is generous, if you’re honest because it smells like he put twenty espresso shots in a cup and added some sugar. You force back a gag and shudder at the thought. “Everything’s in place?”

“This isn’t a bank heist, Jimin, I’m giving him a fucking box and a letter.” Even behind sunglasses you can tell the look he’s giving you is withering. “Whatever, yes, everything’s in place.”

“Good. Target sighted. Commence mission.”

You huff, grumbling as you move forward to the door. Of the cafe. Where you work. Where Jungkook is sitting, surrounded by his dork friends and heatedly arguing about something you no doubt have no clue about. Looking absolutely delectable, despite just being in a regular ass fucking jacket and a beanie that almost matches his skin and his hair looks so soft that you want to rub your face in it and also maybe bury your fingers in it while he’s between your legs.

You open the door and are immediately hit with the sound of Rose choking on her drink, the sudden conversation about which dps character is better - what the fuck that means, you don’t know - screeching to a halt, and every single person in the shop staring at you. Which is only like three people that aren’t Rose, Jungkook, Jimin, or the six people around Jungkook, but still. You force yourself not to throw up and move, cursing the itchy and uncomfortable dress the entire way.

Really, it was Jimin’s fault. You’d been brainstorming ways to confess and how to make it so perfectly Jungkook that he at least had to respond. He’d been the one to suggest dressing up as Hatsune Miku, which you, of course, nixed immediately. You weren’t about to spend who knows how much on a fucking wig and costume of one of the most popular cartoon characters of the modern age, not when you were only going to use it one fucking time.

So here you fucking are, dressed up like god damn Haruhi Fujioka, in an itchy yellow dress that doesn’t move where it should and feels like fucking sandpaper against your skin, that Jimin just happened to have on hand, like that wasn’t super fucking weird, and now everyone at your place of employment is staring at you and the small white box in your hands with a little pink envelope on top of it and you can hear Rose’s muffled laughter as you step further into the shop.

You stare at the ground as you walk, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. It doesn’t take more than a few steps before you’re staring down at Jungkook’s Timbs. You take a deep breath, and then another, and then another before you look up. He’s openly gawking, jaw nearly on the floor as he looks you up and down. Not a single soul is making a noise in the shop, so your voice rings out loud clear as you say–

“My chest hurts when I think about this person. When this person is happy, I am happy. When he smiles, I feel like crying. I distinguish his voice better than other people’s. I think this person is respectable. I want to become this person’s strength. I have scored more than 80 points, and it’s official. I-” You stop, cursing the fact that you’re doing this at three in the fucking morning on your day off in your workplace all because of a fucking bet and the fact that you couldn’t shut up about Jungkook’s stupid fucking face for more than two minutes without being in danger of combustion. “I like him, and I hope that he feels the same.”

You shove the white box into his hands and turn on your heel. Without looking back, you march out the door, grabbing Jimin on the way even as Jungkook calls after you. You keep going, walking quicker than you ever have to get to your apartment as fast as possible. Jimin just laughs as he follows you.

“I can’t believe you actually did it, holy shit. I hope he likes the chocolates, you worked really hard on them.”

“This is going to end up on the internet, I just know it, and I’m stating right now that this was not how I ever wanted to fucking tell him.” Jimin laughs again and hands you the coffee Rose had made you. When you finally make it back to your apartment, he helps you take the dress off and gets the pint of ice cream out of the freezer so you can wallow in peace.

“You don’t even know what he’s going to say,” Jimin protests, though he heaps his own spoon with ice cream in the process.

“I walked up to him in a jank cosplay of a shojo manga character and confessed my fucking love for him, Jimin.” He balks at the look you give him. “I don’t care how much of an otaku he is, he’s gonna think I’m fucking weird.”

“Well, don’t count yourself out just yet, alright?” Jimin ruffles your hair and you swat at him. “You never know. Maybe he’s really into Ouran and you just don’t know it.” You groan and bury your face in a pillow in an attempt to smother yourself. It doesn’t work.

It still hasn’t worked the next day when you wake up around noon to find Jimin gone and your dishes done for you. You grumble about it since you had every intention of doing your own dishes, but you send him a quick ‘thanks for washing my grime bitch’ because no matter how capable you are, you never want to do them.

It’s later that night when you’re fresh out of the shower and getting ready to head to your practice except for the fact that you can’t find your fucking keys that there’s a knock on your door. You open it without looking and dive back into the couch, bent nearly in half while you dig through the cushions. “Hey, Nayun, I’m almost ready, I just have to find my keys. I think Jimin threw them somewhere last night, after that fucking debacle at the shop-” A choked noise that definitely does not sound like Nayun reaches your eyes and you bolt upright, eyes wide.

Jungkook stands in the doorway to your apartment, wide eyes darting up from where he most definitely was staring at your ass and his face bright red. “Jimin gave me your address. Um…can we talk?”

You really want to say no. You want to tell him that no, you can’t, because you have volleyball practice, as he can tell from your uniform, and you absolutely cannot be late because Rose will literally use your entrails to make a new net.

Instead what comes out is, “Sure!”

You wave him in and close the door behind him, shooting off a quick text to Rose to let her know you might be late or may not show up at all, you’re not really sure because motherfucking Jeon Jungkook just showed up at your door. All you get back is a string of the cry-laughing emojis, and you curse whatever deity decided she should walk this earth with mortals.

“So,” Jungkook says. It’s long and drawn out, like he doesn’t really know where to go from here, but you’re distracted because he looks so good. Matching grey hoodie and sweats that are just the right side of baggy, standard Timbs, hair pushed to the side slightly to show off a bit of forehead. God, what is the world coming to that you’re this worked up over some fucking forehead?

“So,” You echo.

“Did you mean those things you said yesterday?” You hesitate and he takes it as an answer in itself. “Listen, I…I get it, y’know? You’re this super cool volleyball star, and I’m a big nerd who swims, haha, let’s tease the kid about his crush, but…it didn’t really seem like you were teasing. And now I’m confused because I can’t tell if you actually meant any of that or if you were just…dared to do it.”

“I was. Kind of. It was a bet, actually.” Jungkook’s face falls and you wince. “No, not like that, it wasn’t. Fuck, okay, it wasn’t a mean bet. I made a bet with the girls on the team that if the boys lost their game, then I would confess my feelings to you in some big dramatic anime way, like all that shit you like, right, and then the boys actually lost their game, so I had to do it, and then, wait.” Your brain catches up. “Did you say you have a crush on me?”

Jungkook’s face is still slightly pink, but he’s got the most tentative bunny smile on and he looks so unbearably fond that your heart is breaking. “I did,” He says softly. “So you really have feelings for me?”

“I’ve been in love with you for more than two years,” You blurt. You immediately want to take it back, want to suck the words back in before they can escape and embarrass you further, but it’s too late. “I mean…I was an orientation leader with Jimin right before my second year and you were in his group, and I saw you talking to some people and you were just really super cute and you have a really nice smile and I was kind of hooked and then later that year we were both at the dining hall and I was sitting near you and this guy said something about some anime and you were all, ‘really, because if you’d bothered to watch the show then you’d know blah blah blah’ and it was the single hottest anime takedown I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook is silent through your babble, though his smile just grows and he fluffs the back of his hair. He looks around your apartment briefly, like he’s looking for words, and he’s got the prettiest flush on his face and you want to kiss it but he hasn’t said anything.

“I went to your first volleyball match that year, and you spiked a ball into a girl’s face,” He admits. You remember that match, mostly because- “And then you argued with the ref for almost ten minutes about whether or not you deserved a penalty for it because technically she was the one that tried to hit the ball with her face, you hadn’t tried to hit her in the face. I’ve never been so turned on by sports in my entire life.”

“I once spat water out my nose because you said hi to me in the dining hall.”

“I fell into that pool because you looked really fucking hot in your uniform and I couldn’t process the fact that you thought my anime shit was cool.”

“I want to lick your abs.”

He stops at that, and for a second, for a single second you think maybe you went too far, but then he’s glancing around at the apartment as if he’s actually looking for something now. “Is there anyone else here?” He eventually asks. You can’t even finish shaking your head before he’s on you, pressing his mouth to yours in a feverish kiss.

You want to say that it was soft and sweet and gentle at first, but it wasn’t, at all. The two of you had too much pent up sexual frustration for that. Instead, his lips move against yours with a ferocity you didn’t expect, and his hand on the back of your neck is unforgiving as he tilts your jaw to get deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck, Kook,” You moan, hands already roaming along his sweatshirt. “Please take it off, I’m begging you.” He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling against your lips and it sends a wave of arousal crashing through you even as he strips his hoodie off to reveal nothing underneath. You feast your eyes on the muscles he keeps hidden away, hands hesitating as they start to run along the skin. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, seems to actually bask in it, and he chuckles again as he lets his hands fall to your hips.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” He whispers in your ear, and you find yourself shaking at the way it feels. Erotic and sensual and hot as fuck, you want to return the favor, but you find yourself at a loss.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” You ask, pushing against his chest and walking back with him until his knees hit the couch. “Do you know how often I’ve thought of this?” You push again and he falls back onto it, hands coming to grip your thighs as you straddle him, and you make sure to grind your hips against his as you move to whisper into his ear. “How often I’ve touched myself thinking of you?”

Jungkook moans, and you want to etch the sound into your fucking skin, it’s absolutely glorious. He says your name like it’s a curse and you’ve never wanted someone more. You grind yourself against the stiffness you can feel through his sweats, your own volleyball shorts leaving little to the imagination. You’re absolutely soaked, and you know it’s going to be a bitch to wash but you could not give less of a fuck right now.

He rolls his hips up to meet yours and it’s your turn to moan, hands coming up to brace on his shoulders as your tongue slides along his neck and down to his throat. His breath hitches when you graze the skin there with your teeth, so you repeat the action. His hands tighten at your hips and slide to palm your ass; you never thought a guy’s hand on your ass would feel as good as it does, but you also never thought you’d be making out with Jeon Jungkook on your couch instead of going to practice.

“Fuck, Kook,” You moan into his mouth as he slides his right hand up your shirt to cup your breast. It’s more difficult than it usually would be, as you wear your sports bras to practice, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. “Need you.”

“Don’t wanna fuck you on your couch yet,” He replies between the slide of his tongue against yours. “Your room, wanna make you come in your bed first.” Your legs tremble at the thought and you push yourself up. It’s hard to stand, your legs are wobbly, but Jungkook doesn’t even seem to notice it as you turn. His chest is pressed against your back immediately, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady while the other gropes your ass. His mouth is harsh on your neck and you can feel the bruises forming but at this point, you don’t even care.

You press yourself into him, and you can feel him. He curves, you can already tell; the heat radiating from the hardness pressed into the swell of your ass is delicious, and another wave of wetness seeps into your shorts as you think about what it’s gonna be like with him inside.

“You have no idea what these shorts do to me,” He whispers, nipping at the skin of your neck one last time before he slaps your ass - hard. You yelp, more in surprise than anything, but before you can say anything he’s pushing at your hips to force you through the apartment.

You’ve only made it to your bed faster once before this, when you thought you were being chased by an ax murderer that turned out to be a coat rack.

Jungkook isn’t gentle when you get to your room. He doesn’t even pause, just flips you around and shoves you onto the bed. It shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is, and you’re quivering a little because of it. He slides between your legs, hands running slowly up your thighs, and it seems that now he’s decided to take his time.

His touch is feather-light against your skin. You can barely feel his hands as they slide up your thighs and over your hips, around your waist, and between your breasts, but you can’t ever deny where they are. You’re hyperaware of him, and the smirk on his face tells you that he knows it. The competitive side of you, the one that makes you so fucking vicious during games, swells; he needs to know you’re not one to take it lying down, and he needs to know now.

Your legs move up around his waist and you push, using all your weight to flip the two of you so he straddles you once more. He’s rock solid against your ass and you grind back into it. His hands slide along your waist again and he pouts a little.

“Wanted to taste you,” He whines, fingers dipping just below the waistband of your shorts. You hook your thumbs in alongside his and pull, letting the material slide down just enough to tease.

“So do it,” You tell him. He looks confused for a second before recognition washes over him. His dick twitches behind you, but you pay it no mind. You rise up enough to slide your shorts off, a true feat of excellence considering how tight they are, and when you settle back down on your knees, his tongue runs across your slit. You gasp at the feeling and he takes this as permission to continue.

Whatever you expected him to be like in bed, every sexual fantasy you’ve ever had about him, none could ever live up to the reality of Jungkook’s tongue sliding between your folds to flick your clit. You moan, nails digging into your thighs.

“You like that, princess?” He asks, muffled by your thighs and pussy. You nod before realizing that he may not be able to see you.

“Yes, I do,” You tell him, and your nails dig in harder when he flicks it again. He continues, tongue darting out to tease you but not giving you enough to get you where you want to go. You growl, and he laughs.

“Maybe you should be kitten instead if you’re going to growl at me.” You shudder at the name, and when you look down with red cheeks, he has one brow raised. “Really? Kitten?”

“Shut up, I know you have a Hatsune Miku body pillow,” You tell him. He looks ready to protest but you lower yourself so his lips brush your folds. He takes the hint, thankfully, and lets his hands curl up to grip your hips. “Put that fucking mouth to work, Jungkook, or so help me-” You’re cut off by an unexpected moan. He slides his tongue along you once more, from clit to hole, and you whimper.

You can literally feel the smirk against your pussy and you rock down onto him. He laps up your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit and back down to your hole. You grind your hips down into his mouth, desperate for more friction, and you feel soft breaths against you as he chuckles. You whine and he takes pity, angling himself better before sliding his tongue tantalizingly slow into you. You clench around him and are left unsatisfied. As wonderful and skilled as it is, it’s not nearly big enough to do what you need it to. Still, it feels damn good as he thrusts it in and out of you, good enough that when he starts to pull away, your hands dart down and tangle in his hair to keep him right where he is. You can feel your orgasm coming, it’s so close you can taste it, and when he slides a finger over your clit, you break.

Your hips stutter in their rhythm and you slide yourself to the side so he can breathe properly once more. He’s got a grin on his face and looks entirely too pleased with himself. He moves to lay between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your torso and thighs with every breath, and the fondness in your chest swells.

You can see him straining his sweats, it has to hurt, and yet here he is, showering you with kisses and sweet nothings instead of immediately trying to get off himself. What a refreshing change of pace.

“Thank you,” He mutters with a laugh, and you realize you’d been talking out loud. “I do really, really want to fuck you, though.” He trails kisses up your neck to your ear and you shiver. “Would you like that, kitten?” You whine and arousal courses through you once more. He trails kisses back down and unsnaps your bra; you would have to remember to thank Jisoo for suggesting you get a clasped sports bra, because it’s never been helpful before but thank God you don’t have to try to peel yourself out of a regular one now.

Jungkook presses his lips against your nipple lightly, fingers ghosting over the other to stiffen it. “You didn’t answer me, kitten. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to slide into that pretty pussy?” You whimper, doing your damndest to pull him far enough that you can grind against something that isn’t air, but he holds his body just far enough away that you can’t. He gives your nipple little kitten licks, his saliva making the air that much colder and your nipples that much harder.

“You’re so wet for me, kitten,” He mutters as he lets his free hand rest on your thigh, thumb swiping lazily over your hipbone. “Can you feel it? Because I can, even from here. You’re absolutely soaked, I could probably just slide right in. Do you want that, kitten? You want me to pound that little pussy of yours until you can’t walk straight?”

“Fuck, Kook, please,” You moan. Your hands slide along his body, looking for any kind of purchase and finding none. He’s enjoying himself too much, and you’re too desperate right now to do anything about it. “Please, Kook, please fuck me already. I swear to god, I’m gonna send your fucking Evangelion fanfic to your professors if you don’t get in me soon.”

“How do you even know about that?” He asks, momentarily stunned out of character. You give him a satisfied grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You lift your hips off the bed completely, letting them brush lightly against him. He stifles a moan and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, your entire body shivers with delight; he’s still that dumbass weeb but fuck, he looks like he’s going to absolutely wreck you.

“I’m gonna fuck this slut pussy of yours until you’re gushing, you hear me, kitten?” He says, kicking his sweats off. You don’t even get a chance to appreciate the sight of his dick before he’s lining up with your hole, the tip brushing against your clit in the process and making you moan. “I’m gonna fucking pound your pussy until it’s so fucking full you can’t remember your own name, let alone random shit about me. You’re gonna be begging for my cock, all day every day.”

“Fuck, Kook, yes, please, I want that,” You grind your hips up again and he moves, sliding inside of you in one easy movement. The stretch burns at first; he’s fucking huge, and he does curve, and it presses against every inch of you in such a phenomenal way that you never want him to stop. Your eyes must have rolled back in your head because when you open them, Jungkook has one hand stroking your cheek as the other supports his weight.

“Are you good?” He asks, soft and gentle. You nod, rolling your hips in a quick circle to let him know how good. He lets out another groan, soft and muffled, as if he’s containing himself. “You’ll let me know if you need me to stop?” You nod again. “Fuck, kitten, you’re so good for me.”

He starts to move then, dick dragging against your walls as he pulls back out slowly before slamming back in. Your moan echoes through the apartment, but all you hear is the soft call of your name from his lips as he repeats the motion. You raise your hips to meet his thrusts and it only takes a couple of minutes before you’re both panting. Your legs lock around his hips to bring him in deeper and he moans at the contact. He sits back on his knees and brings you up with him.

You’ve wanted to ride his dick for years, and it’s so much better than you ever thought. Every drag of his cock has you clenching, every thrust with this new angle has him hitting your g-spot and you’re seeing stars. He’s got one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady and the other on the back of your neck so he can bring you in close and kiss you deeply, whispering sweet nothings in your ear when he has to breathe.

The two of you move in tandem, hips gyrating against each other’s as you chase that high together. Having him inside of you feels like heaven and you never want it to stop. He starts to pull out and you shake your head, slamming your hips down onto his with renewed vigor.

“Gonna cum,” He huffs, and you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good,” You tell him. His grip on you tightens and he slams into you harder. “Fucking cum inside me, Kook, please.” He moans, loud and unashamed, as he hits deeper inside of you with more force than you expect. You’re bouncing on his dick now, there’s no other word for it, and you fucking love it.

“Fuck, kitten, gonna fill you up so good,” He mutters. You nod, feeling the pressure inside of you tighten. “Gonna paint you with it gonna cover your pussy with my cum, want you to feel me inside you for days. Fuck, take it, kitten, take my cum inside, all of it, don’t let a single drop fall out.” He slams into you, again and again and again. Your throat is raw from the screams, you’re pretty sure he has scratch marks on his back, but you can’t bring yourself to care because, fuck, he feels so good.

He slams into your g-spot again, at the same time he kisses you deep and moves his hand to rub against your clit, and your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. You can’t even say anything, moans swallowed up by Jungkook’s mouth, but he knows by the way you clench and spasm around his cock, you can tell, because it only takes a few more shallow thrusts and he’s over that edge with you. You can feel his hot seed settling inside, spreading to fill you completely.

He lays you back on your bed, gentle, and slides out. His cum starts to seep out of you, you can feel it on your thighs, and when you open your eyes, he’s staring at the sight.

“Is this…something to be worried about?” He eventually asks. You shake your head and tap your bicep.

“Implant,” You tell him. “We’re good.” He nods and leans forward, and you feel his finger slide up your slit once more, gathering all of his cum before he pushes it back inside of you. When he’s satisfied that you’re as full as can be, he lays down next to you and tugs you into a lazy embrace. You take his hand and lick it clean, surprised at the fresh wave of arousal that hits despite your exhaustion. He smiles, cute and bunny-like, with the nose scrunch and everything, and you let yourself get lost in it.

He traces invisible shapes on your skin with his hands, all over your thighs and belly and arms and chest, and it’s an intimacy you’ve never had before. You watch him, eyes following each curve he makes, and trying to figure out what he’s drawing.

“It’s not Hatsune Miku,” He eventually says. You raise your brows at him and he grins. “I don’t have a Hatsune Miku body pillow.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. “Well, then, I’m sorry I misjudged you.”

“It’s Nami from One Piece,” He admits. You roll your eyes and grab a pillow to smack him.

“This is why we can’t have nice things, Kook.”

“I disagree.”

“What do you mean, you disagree?”

“I’ve got you, don’t I?”

The blush on your face gives you away even as you suppress the smile, but Jungkook lets you pretend, content to continue drawing on you with his fingertips. It’s the first time you’ve felt content and at peace in two years, and - you can’t believe you’re about to think this - you’re glad you put on that fucking cosplay.

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