#he’s trying so hard not to be disgusted by all this romance love s*x talk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yawntu · 1 year

Text

Tsyeym

A/N: Yo I thought I posted this last night, took shrooms. Finally just woke back up came and checked and was like no way no one has interacted w this fic and then realized i never pressed post. Rotxo deserves more love so I decided in a little fic for him. Switch x Switch couples are just my cup of tea. This is not my fav but I am a sucker for love and romance. It’s grammarly proofread but not beta read 🤭 (might be looking for another beta reader)

pairing(s): Rotxo x f!Reader, platonic!Ao’nung x f!Reader (briefly)

word count: ~8k

warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Size kink, stomach bulge, face sitting(f!receiving), Cunnalingus, Cumswaping maybe?, Spit, he’s a messy eater you can’t tell me otherwise, beach sex, Jealous!Rotxo, he’s just so sweet and pretty, Unprotected, love taps on your butt, “girl” is used, it’s pretty soft for the most part, he’s obsessed and def a simp

na’vi glossary: sayrìp : handsome, skxawng : moron, tsyeym : treasure / precious

Playfully scrapping had become increasingly popular amongst your friend group since you had been introduced to each other's cultures all those years ago. It was commonplace to play amongst yourselves. Just earlier in the evening you and Ao’nung had just almost spoiled your dinner by shoving each other's faces into the sand after a slap-boxing horseplay over some crustacean turned into a rather enthralling spar that had both of your fathers rooting for and coaching from an imagined sideline (and mothers who were doing more yelling and hooting in excitement then offering tactical advice).

Rotxo had even watched in amusement as it seemed Ao’nung had succeeded in neutralizing you with a knee on your back. Unfortunately, Ao’nung had been a fool and got off of you to turn to his father with a grin. It took you only seconds for you to contort yourself into a crouch and launch yourself into the back of his legs sending him forward onto his knees. His shock gave you enough time to maneuver both of your palms onto the back of his head and dramatically push his face right down into the sand,

“That is for punching me,”

And Rotxo couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the fact that your pretty thighs straddle his best friend's back. Or the fact that jealousy grew into a painful lump in his throat when Ao’nungs arm hooks behind him to support your frame as he almost barrel rolls half onto his back to pin your thigh under his body and halt your assault with a laugh.

All your family and friends are laughing at the two of you, and your mothers coo as they watch you wipe sand off of Ao’nungs face. Rotxo couldn’t stop the bitter resentment that bubbled in his chest at the sight. He hated feeling this way. He hated the way you made him feel not quite like himself.

Which is why he does his very best at keeping it hidden. Not that it’s hard for him to forget the resentment he feels for you the second you give him your attention. Even only hours after the disgusting display of affection with his best friend. When you kindly ask him to accompany you on a walk he can’t even think about how upset he had been. Even now while your chiding voice disrupts the peacefulness of your walk and the beauty of the light beginning to set over the reef.

“You’re mad because I will not spar with you?”

He cuts off your words. The duck of the young warrior's head, so he could speak to you face to face as you walked down the beach only insults you more. Had he been on the side closest to the soft waves you’d have no doubt shoved him onto his ass into the assaulting water. Obviously that is what you were angry about-

“Is it because I cheat when I fight Ao’nung? If he is so stupid as to keep turning his back on me after all this time then he is at fault,”

You sound genuinely confused as you try desperately to make sense of why Rotxo would rough house with Lo’ak or Neteyam and even Kiri but not you. It’s funny how conceited you sound even as you’re practically bouncing next to him and pestering him like a bug. Rotxo knew a little better than most though regarding the inner workings of your mind. It wasn’t that you were conceited- you were just stupidly confident. He didn’t doubt, however, that one way or another your small frame would beat him simply because he knew you wouldn’t dare give up until you did.

“Besides the fact that I vividly remember when you bit Tinangey in the cheek,” Rotxo try’s to defend his unwillingness to hit you with an annunciation to his story by holding two of his second knuckles to the apex of your cobalt cheek. Long, thick fingers curled against your glowy skin. The same place you had bitten the longed-haired, round-faced, barely tolerable boy all those years ago when you fought. Though in your defense Ao’nung and the group of boys had started a very real fight, and you had only followed in your brother's shadow of retribution.

“And I happen to hit much harder than Ao’nung does,” he adds.

For a second, Rotxo feels like he exudes your same confidence. It’s not an unwarranted comment, however. Ao’nung was less than a head taller than him, but Rotxo had grown into quite an impressive specimen. Wide and as immovable as the waves that crashed outside of the reef you do not venture past. That was more than half the reason why you wanted to spar with the Talioang of a man so terribly.

“You are no fun,”

He can’t help but frown at your words. He knows you aren’t serious- would you spend as much time with him if you did not find entertainment in him? The same insecurity that causes resentment to bubble in his stomach rears its ugly head once more. For a second he feels like he could believe that you had been aware of how he felt and that you used him for validation.

“You should be more thankful to me,” he chides, baring his fangs slightly in a half grinned snarl, “that I refuse to knock any more brain cells out of you,”

You complain he doesn’t horseplay with you the way the others do, but at this moment he organically wraps one palm around the back of your head to pull you into him slightly, so he could cruelly rub his knuckles against the crown of your head.

Because he does roughhouse with you. Rotxo always played with you. Was always there to entertain you because the idea of other men wrapping their hands around the pliable flesh of your flowing form made the ugliest parts of him surface. If it wasn’t Rotxo entertaining you it was your siblings or his best friend. As he had not made any formal claim towards you out of his nerves, unfortunately, had to tolerate it regarding his future Olo'eyktan.

You’re just a terrible little cretin that found delight in the chaos you left in your wake. It’s why you, Lo’ak, and Kiri get into so much trouble. It’s why you poked at Ao’nung. He can swear there’s a part of you that does it just to cause strife in his heart.

He can’t be bothered with pondering over the legitimacy of his accusation partially out of fear that he’s projecting, and perhaps you are just like Ao’nung. Though mostly it’s because of course you are swatting your delicate little hand at him and grumbling about how you’re smarter than him and that he was the stupid one to think otherwise.

It’s endearing how you walk backward as the two of you playfully bicker and fight. Though like always- Rotxo is catching your intended slaps and redirecting your arms to swoop past him. Sometimes even grabbing at your forearms so you can’t help but be pulled around haphazardly by him.

“You are so fucking annoying,”

Your shriek comes as Rotxo almost effortlessly maneuvered you to spin forward and walk ahead of him, while he pinned your arms across your chest. You both stumble over each other's feet as you can’t help but laugh over the fact that he’s made your arms an effective straight jacket. You wiggle and writhe and it halts his walking while you try to dig your heel into the top of his foot. It only results in one of your wrists being let go of and you being spun around like a toy by him.

He had half let you stumble while he used the momentum of your arms to spin you, but he was quick to grab hold of your other wrist, propping you right up.

You were out of breath from the game but you were thankful for the view he presented you with. The violets and oranges of sunset suited the aquamarine of his skin. Dancing between the intricate tidal markings on his body, and forcing your eyes to dance across the defined arms, chest, and neck that were covered in bold black lines. You feel a little silly, being so flustered before him with your whole face purpled. You can help it because he looks pretty at the moment. Absolutely beautiful like always. Like no one you had ever seen before.

Rotxo is quick to heave you up in the air and shake you around. Ruining the view that had just begun to calm you down. Riling you into hysteric laughter while playing with you as if you weighed nothing. You shake in his arms and toss your body around like a mad-woman and you’re cackling just like one.

When he begins to feel merciful you land on your feet, with his arms still pining your hands and arms against your ribs that are rapidly rising and falling. With the welcomed breaths you instantly go back to chastising him.

“That is not sparring, fish-boy! You were just being an imbecile.”

You’re snapping an arm fee so you can poke him in the chest. He can’t help but roll his eyes at your attempt and take your hand to lightly ‘smack’ your face with it.

“You are ridiculous,”

He tried to emphasize his words with a similar assault by your other hand but you offered resistance,

“If you just took me seriously I-“ you’re cut off as you struggle to keep him from playfully making you hit yourself. Thrashing your head around wildly. And he’s just laughing above you because he thinks it’s stupid that you assume he just thinks you can’t fight and that’s why he won’t spar with you. For Eywas sake he watches you win regularly.

It’s like you could read his mind without tsaheylu and the mention of your victories emboldened you. He hadn’t even noticed your leg raise to wrap around his locked knee leisurely supporting his weight while he tormented you.

He had buckled backward under the weight of his massive frame embarrassingly quickly. You had expected him to let go of your wrists as he fell, but he did not. Opting to drag you down into the sand with him.

He tries to control the mauve that dances across his skin but this is the reason he didn’t spar with you. He can tell himself it’s because he hates seeing you get hit, and that his heart breaks and chokes him any time he thinks about striking you even in that situation.

He knows however, it’s because he can’t be this close to you. He can already feel his ears perking up towards you and his eyes relaxing while he stares up at you. How pretty. Your sapphire skin was dazzling under the cool violets and dwindling oranges of an almost completely set sun. The stars had even begun to twinkle behind you between the other shining moons.

“You are the worst,” your pants finally die down, to match your soft glare,

“Is that so?” His cheeks dimple as he grins wildly up at you as you adjust to straddle his chest more comfortably.

“Yes. I swing at you and you don’t even try to hit me back.”

And there’s another attitude laced plop to his chest. More follow as you use said pops to enunciate your following words,

“You just toss me around like I am useless and cannot fight! You know I can. Yet you only fight my brothers, how are you meant to get better if you don’t-“

He stops listening to your scoldings. He doesn’t care what you’re saying when his heart beats against your inner thighs. When he can feel the pudge of your hips practically pooling on him begging for him to grab at it. Why couldn’t you connect the dots? Why were you so stupid? He can’t help but laugh at you, there’s even a bit of a bitter snide behind it. Even though he thinks it’s endearing how badly you wanted to prove yourself to him. He cuts you off abruptly,

“Go and fight with Ao’nung,”

And it’s got your pretty siren eyes widening at his words.

“What does he have to do with anything,”

The sight of his sea-foam eyes rolling into the back of his head has your snarl fixed down at him,

“Can’t step on the Olo'eyktan’s toes can I? Huh?”

He has an expression you’ve never seen cross his face before. Not on Rotxo’s. Not the sweet boy who you had spent so much time with,

“What are you talking about, Ro?”

Ro. You dare call him Ro at a time like this. It makes him sit up on in elbow, grabbing at the top of your now elevated thigh,

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Why do you need to spar with me when you can practice with him? Unless it’s just some weird mating thing you guys have going on-”

He’s never seen your face screw up quite like it is now. Red-faced at his accusation not out of embarrassment but out of anger. Angry that he’d made such a brazen accusation. The first outbreak from Rotxo leaves you stumbling over how to answer him, and you notice he looks hurt at your stunned silence.

“Yeah, ‘course that’s what it is. You make it quite obvious-“ and you feel him start to move under you- probably to get up and apologize and tell you you had to walk back to the village now because even with the hurt salted embarrassment he feels now he’d never leave you to walk back alone. Never let you be in danger. You know that and it makes you more upset,

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t make it obvious. I am not your fucking ilu- you do not know what I’m thinking.”

Your left hand reaches for the wrist of the hand that holds your thigh while your right pointer and middle fingers aim down at him accusingly.

“So you have no interest in him?”

Rotxo is speaking faster than usual. A trait you had noticed followed Rotxo anytime he was too hyped up. He was the softest boy you had ever known yet the gentle buzz of adrenaline that leaked out of his too-quick breaths reminded you that he was in fact a Metkayina warrior.

“Mhmm,”

You’re honestly surprised it has taken you this long to notice the mutual affection he had harbored for you. Blinded by your insecurities, the sight of him frantic over the idea of your affection belonging to someone else made you squirm.

“I suppose he would be a fine mate now that you mention it-” and you smile down at him, hoping he knows you’re kidding. That you just don’t know how to talk about your feelings “considering no one else seems to be all that interested in me,”

And you feel him go ridged under you, round eyes fixated on your own. You think he’s annoyed a little bit, staring dumbfounded at you. But you feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh.

“Was this your plan? Torment me into doing what you want?”

You don’t know if it’s the chill of the eclipses sea breeze or the fact that Rotxo’s voice was as modulated, deep, and mesmerizing as always, yet his face held the same intense stare that the Metkayina warriors were renowned for. You’re embarrassed at the way you twitch as he props both hands on your thighs and adjusts himself back into laying straight back.

“Nu-uh, but is it working?” And you're purring above him, flicking your tail across his stomach. It only added to the overstimulated feeling throbbing at the front of Rotxo’s skull. An uncomfortable pendulum swinging him between ecstasy at the sight of your pretty form sat on his chest and misery over the fact that he still couldn’t shake the insecurity that you were toying with him.

“No-“ He curses a crack in his voice with a swallow, “I will just stay tormented,”

His hands are warm as they paw at the top of your thighs. He can’t help but feel like he’s on fire at your position, at least the sand was starting to cool in the dark. It helped keep him from sweating below you even as he pants at the sight above him. Your knees are pushed under his arms and nestled against his ribs and he worries you can feel his heart pounding. You made the air hang hot around his head.

You’re nervous at how intense his dusk sullen aqua eyes maintain their contact with you but he doesn’t have a choice- if you scooted up less than a foot you’d be sat right on his face- there’s nothing he’s ever wanted more.

“Lost in thought?”

He cringes at your voice. Not knowing how you always get him like this. How you always have the high ground. He doesn’t know why he’s honest with you,

“I do not want you to fight with Ao’nung like that anymore.”

And you grin at him and place your palm on his cheek,

“Is that so? That means you will spar with me now?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around your obsession with being hurt? Did you pester everyone to fight with you like this? The thought makes his body move on reflex, craning his neck enough to open his mouth wide and comp down onto the exposed skin of your thigh. You bounce on his chest, pulling at his hair back with a whine in response.

“If you are jealous you can just say so you do not have to bite me, you child.”

He can only smile because it’s his hair you’re yanking at. You’re sitting on him and-

“I’m not jealous. Not in this moment anyways,”

One of his hands slides up your hunched forward torso, and he’s pulling you down by the woven fabric of your top. You’re not sure if he’s pulling you down to kiss him. You figure with the state of things though a kiss wasn’t an unwelcome advance, and you’re not surprised when his head lifts to kiss you back.

It’s better than any silly fantasy you had ever let yourself drift into because he’s warm and real and he’s kissing you like you’re fragile because he wants you to feel safe enough to be fragile. He wouldn’t have wasted so much time becoming a competent warrior if it wasn’t to keep you safe.

“How could you think I’d want to share a brain with Ao’nung huh? I’d kill myself.” you smile against his lips, “as if I’d ever want him over you,”

And he knows you’re not lying to him as the fluff of your tail tickles against a throbbing vein in his lower stomach. How could you be lying when you’re hunched over uncomfortably while you straddle him just so you could purr into a kiss? His big hands cradling your cheeks makes you ignore the ache in your spine, and you thank Eywa he’s so big as to add ease to the position.

By some stroke of luck, his hand travels down your spine as if to soothe the ache while your tongues swirled against each other. Despite the trembling ache that plagued your lower stomach at the endearing turn of events, Rotxo kisses you, softly. As if you’re not dying for him. Even though you straddle him his chest and move against him to relieve the pressure he inflicts on you. You’re very obviously making out with him. Willingly letting his mouth explore yours at his own pace. You can’t help but slide down his torso so you could lay on top of him properly.

You couldn’t get over how wide you still had to spread your legs to straddle his waist. Even though you laid over him caging his body under yours he engulfed you. You need to breathe far earlier than he does, and he finds it cute how you huff against his lips to catch your breath.

“You’re not going to let Ao’nung touch you anymore, ya?”

And he can’t help the dopey pitch of his voice as he catches your lips in a quick kiss. Not when you’re beaming down at him.

“Only if you touch me instead,”

You sound so coy considering you’re giggling above him. And when you enunciate your words with another kiss he can’t help the obnoxious chortle that leaves his lips- that’s until you bite at his bottom lip slightly,

“You are too bossy,”

But he kisses you the way you want him to. Pushing his nose against yours. He doesn’t think he can like anything more until he feels your hips grind against the lower abs of his stomach- that tighten and flex at the feeling of your now twitching core.

The confidence the both of you had mutually worked up to had you lost in your own world. You know it’s unbecoming of you both to be caught in such a situation but you had enough confidence in your privacy and even less confidence in your own self-control to do anything about it.

“Sit on my face,” it comes out as a gaspy whisper between your clanking teeth while you grind against him, “Let me take care of you instead,”

It makes you whimper above him and he swears it’s some sort of nirvana.

“I-I’ve never-” and you are mad at how wet the inside of your mouth is and yet it still offers no solace to the lump in your throat

“No’ gonna make you,”

You’re not sure if the sound of him slurring into your mouth makes you moan or the fact that your tail finds and runs across his erect member behind you.

“Obviously want you to,” and his palm is on your cheek, “wanted you on my mouth since you plopped down on me,”

He’s kissing you between his words and you know he means it. You can hear it in his voice. He just about died of excitement when he felt you propping yourself up on your knees.

Now that you’re back up he can admire your pretty body once again. He thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you not take the lead. It made him blush- realizing how shy you had suddenly become. He’s gentle when he reaches for your thigh again, sliding up until his fingers reach the fabric of your tweng,

“Can I?”

You wondered how the sun would rise in the morning when it was trapped in his smile. Looking up at you as if you were Eywa herself. How could he possibly think you don’t want him to untie it?

You don’t know how to say yes without embarrassing yourself, so you do what any rational woman would do when the love of their life was laid between their legs. You reach up to the fabric tie of your beaded top, and let it fall from your body, plopping down in the sand next to you.

You can’t ignore the throb that plagues you at the widening of his eyes, how they instantly drop to your breasts. The only cover from his eyes are the few strands of hair.

You’re almost shocked at his fumbling fingers. Too excited to uncover you and too large for the delicate fabric, yet like all things that required a gentle hand- Rotxo succeeded at his task quickly. Obediently you let his palms guide your hips up. He is rewarded with one more sway of your tail over his quickly hardening length as tosses your bottoms in the opposite direction of your top.

You're breathing heavily when he cranes his neck to look at your most intimate flesh,

“Oh, Eywa,”

He can feel himself leaking all over his stomach at the sight of your bare cunt against his torso, and the warm feeling of you dripping could drive him to madness.

“C’mere, give me you.”

You listen of course. He feels bad that he likes you best like this. Tentatively crawling up his large chest to place your legs on the side of his head.

He doesn’t feel bad for enjoying the view of you hovering above his face. He can’t believe he had done this. He can’t believe you’re swollen, sticky, and wet for him.

His hands are wrapping around the fat of your thighs to pull you into open-mouthed kisses against your thighs. You’re mad it feels so good- he’s not even touched you and yet your thighs twitch where he kisses.

You reward him with a real moan at the quick swipe of his tongue from the bottom of your leaking hole right across your clit. Though he didn’t truly know what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do. That was enough. You seemed to like what he was doing regardless. He likes kissing you. Feeling the way your lips twitch against his. His tongue finds a comfortable rhythm exploring your folds. You tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. He couldn’t compare you to anything else- and there wasn’t a thing in Pandora he’d rather in his mouth.

Though you're panting and wiggling your hips in front of his face he still wants to give you more. Wants to wrap his arms around your thighs and take care of you the way you should be taken care of. He doesn’t know why he has such a need to take care of you, especially since you had caused him so much grief. He knows you’re more than willing and capable of handling him mating you without any of this - but he can’t help it. He wants to spoon-feed the world to you; do everything for you. Even if it means doing all the work to get that pretty pussy of yours to cum in his mouth.

His desire to take care of you is probably why one of his big hands finds your hips. Why it slides across your smooth skin and his thumb hooks under your tail to push you down and forward onto his wanting mouth.

“I said sit-” he speaks into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making you clench your stomach.

He can feel his dick jump at the way you cry at the feeling of him grinding your sensitive pussy against his wanting mouth, legs clamping down against his blood-rushed ears. When he finally slides his tongue into your twitching hole again he can’t help but reach down to squeeze at the base of his throbbing dick. Just for a second, he could pretend you were clamping down on his cock and not his rapidly exploring tongue. You’re too busy following along with the motion Rotxo’s hand around your tail provides for you to notice what he’s doing, however. When you’re so blissed out that you lean back to brace your hands onto his chest he can’t help but take in the sight of your thrown-back head. Your hair was behind you now and he could watch the night sky illuminate the swell of your breasts. He can’t be bothered to feel bad at watching you so vulnerable and unaware when he’s the one to cause it.

With the added space of you leaning off of him slightly, he was able to drag his face across your leaking cunt as if he were a starved animal ripping into a meal.

You feel dirty- for the way your head quickly snaps forwards to watch the way he shakes his head back and forth between your legs. There’s no hiding the mess below you at this point. The twinkling night does little to hide the slick connecting you to him. And you feel yourself leak even worse when his relaxed eyes blink open and he catches you staring at him. When he slows his movements to take in the look on your face.

“Ro- don’t- Rotxo-“

Embarrassment is evident in your voice despite the fact he feels like his face is burning brighter than yours. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re sitting on his face, you’re letting him eat you out.

He wraps his lips around his new favorite part of your body, sucking the nerve into his mouth with a cruel pop. Kissing it after you cry out,

“You feelin' good?”

His words are soft, as you feel his thumb caress the underside of your tail. You only try to sit back down on his face with a wiggle of your hips. Rotxo has finally found a happy middle ground where he felt confident with you, however. Gripping your tail tighter to keep your greedy cunt off of his face.

“Answer me,”

And with his words comes a gentle graze of his sharp teeth against the pulsating sticky skin of your clit. He’s never heard you make the noise that responds to his assault. A cry or a hiss he wouldn’t know- but it was his new favorite sound. He’s only licking you- it’s only at the work of his tongue that your legs are shaking so prettily on his cheeks.

“Yes- yes you know I am-“ You start, “can you keep going now?”

It’s the fake polite voice you use that makes him scoff. He finds it endearing how badly you try to grind yourself against him in the same rhythm he had previously helped you with. But with his grip on your tail, and the punishingly slow strokes of his tongue against your slit you stayed bubbling on the edge. You’ve never been so pliable for anyone before, he thinks. He’s never seen you so whiney over anything.

“Rotxo please!”

Your please is a little too mean. It wasn’t you asking him to make you feel good. You were being bossy and rude. Red face screwed up in frustration as if you had still been scolding him for the fact he wouldn’t hit you. Maybe it’s why his other hand leaves your hip for a second to swat at the fat of your ass.

Between you sidling forward onto his face, and the fact that your pretty little tail wagged across his painfully hardened cock he couldn’t help but moan right into you.

The guttural moan of his deep voice sends a shock wave up your body that has one hand digging into the sand next to his head and the other hand pulling at the mess of curls on top of his head. Maybe he understood your annoyance at his stubborn desire to hold back before. Because right now you are doing the same.

All he wanted was for you to cum. So one hand returned to your pretty tail to help you grind your clit against his face. It was cute how you tensed at the feeling of the tip of his fingers that had risen up against the hole that so willingly leaked all over him. You don’t even give him a chance to ask if you’re okay with it before you sink back into his fingers, ruining the kiss Rotxo had just begun assaulting your clit with.

The sight of spit connecting his swollen lips to your cunt, and the feeling of one of his finger reaching deeper in you than you had ever been able to touch makes you tremble above him. He’s rocking you against his face while he begins an almost punishing assault on your hole.

In his defense, he wasn’t truly aware of how punishing the pace was. The only thing he was focused on was the steady ripple of your ass against his knuckles. So blissfully unaware of how much louder your voice had gotten. The wet sound he was greeted with as he slid a second finger inside you only spurred the speed of his hand more.

“I- I… Ro I feel-”

And he feels the tip of your tail softly lay across his aching cock as though to anchor yourself as you arch forward into his face, thighs trembling. He moans at the ache of his scalp as you pull him into you and he can’t help but open his eyes wide.

Eywa is Rotxo glad he did. He knows he’s going to remember this for the rest of his life- the view of your pretty legs choking him in a vice grip and pussy clenching up on his fingers while you practically scream. You don’t listen to yourself though, not when you’re preoccupied with the sound of him slurping against you. As if he’s never enjoyed something more- and he’s smiling against you as he alternates, scraping his teeth against you, and sloppily kissing you though your orgasm. All while his fingers still slowly curl inside of you.

You feel like you should be embarrassed, panting above him- trying to force oxygen into your deprived lungs and brain. He doesn’t make you feel awkward though. Not even for a second. Not while he’s petting your thigh and smiling up at you between his movements.

“You’re alright?”

The hum of his voice was questioning. You couldn’t help that part of you felt as though he was telling you that you were alright though. Maybe that’s why you felt so at ease.

“Better than alright,”

Your coquettish grin has him pawing at your thighs to scoot you back down off of him. Even though he’s never enjoyed doing something more than taking care of you, the feeling of your tail twitching against the tip of his throbbing cock had raised an unfamiliar pain in his stomach. Besides, the sinful sounds you had been making for him; the pretty dazed face had coaxed you into had made him confident enough to not want to be under you any longer.

You instinctually wrap your arms around his neck as you feel him begin to sit himself up. One arm wrapped tightly under your ass (giving himself the luxury of wrapping one of his meaty palms around the meatier fat of your ass) to keep you from sliding down into his lap until he had sat up completely, and could position you comfortably.

You can’t help but smile at how disheveled he looks. His hair is all askew from you yanking at it and his face is completely blushed and wet from all the effort. The way the corners of his lips twitch into a smile by the time your bare slit makes contact with him is almost mischievous in a way. As if he was expecting the gasp that falls from your lips as he drags you down across the tweng that painfully constricts the parts of him that hadn’t hardened out of it. It finally relieves some of the pressure knotting at the pit of his stomach. You could never wrap your mind around how sitting on his lap could be so calming yet intimidating. You can’t help but reach for the sand covered curls at the back of his head pulling desperately to fill the gap the height difference caused. Wanting nothing more than for him to bless you with another kiss.

Of course, he obliges. He doesn’t think he could ever deny you a single thing now. Not when you’re grinding down onto him while kissing him. Dragging the fabric across the both of you, and Eywa when you run your tongue across his lips with a giggle he has to stop himself from cumming between the both of you.

Feeling the way his tip leaks against your belly button has your heart beating so impossibly fast that the rattling it causes in your rib cage hurts.

“We do not have to do anything else,”

He doesn’t want to remind you. He really does not. He wants nothing more than to sink you down onto him- but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured. To feel unsafe. If you had never touched him again he’d have lived happily with this moment like gold in his memory. He thanks Eywa however, when you whine at the insinuation, thread your fingers around his kuru, and your pretty snarl makes contact with his own teeth.

“Don’t make me go and find Ao’nu-”

You don’t even finish your hiss before he swats at your ass again, appreciating the way your skin recoils, and thighs tremble at his sides and for you to yelp into him. How dare you say his name with your hand where it was? Has he been too nice to you these years? Too gentle with you?

“Watch it,”

You had heard Rotxo growl before. Never at you- but you had seen what he was capable of when he did get aggressive with people. Yes, he was a sweet and gentle boy- but he was also rowdy, brawling, and all too bellicose. But because he was normally so saccharine to you, you had forgotten all about the rest of Rotxo. Big, honorable, and strong Rotxo who you had seen slam down elder warriors with years of experience on him like they were weightless. Those same muscular, intricately tattooed arms were now using the fat of your hips and ass to grind you down against him. As if to make up for the cruelty of your words your other hand reaches down, and though you had frustrated him he can’t help but buck his hips into you at the feeling of your hand sliding down the hood of his cock so you could run a thumb across his exposed tip.

“I want you. I thought I was being pretty obvious. Reya makes fun of me for it.”

You don’t know why you whisper to him, you don’t think you had ever been as soft-spoken before.

“I am just stupid-”

And his frustrations leave him at the feeling of your hands loosening around both his hand and kuru. He can’t help but slide his face against yours, slotting his nose against yours. He breaths against your face once before he speaks,

“You are not a stupid girl,” and there’s a kiss placed on your cheek under your eye as one palm raises to cradle the opposite one, “you are at least smart enough to undo a knot, yeah?”

He keeps his usual warm and syrupy baritone voice, yet there’s a condescending undertone to his voice that shoots straight down to your core. It makes your ears flatten against your head, and your eyes widen. He was almost bitter that all it took to intimidate you was to imply he wanted to impale you on his cock. Why did he waste all this time becoming such a revered deep-sea diver and warrior?

“Or are you, pretty girl?”

There’s more jest in his voice; his heart swelling at how cute you were when you weren’t being a menace. So cute in fact that he can’t help but kiss the crown of your head as he watches both of your hands reach down to untie his tweng. He supposes he could have just yanked it down, but he can’t help the rush that flows through him at the sight of you doing it. He swears he’ll ride this high for months- felt like he could fight a nalutsa all by himself.

That’s until he sees you sit up on his knees and realize what you’re going to do- what you want to do. It finally sinks in for him. You want him. Your fingers are on his kuru, your cums on his face- you chose him. Suddenly the sea breeze isn’t enough to keep him from overheating. He’s too aware of the sound of the waves and the sand that covers his back and hair and the fact that-

“Sayrìp,”

His eyes instantly leave your swollen pussy and raise to your face, locking with your eyes obediently. You smile up at him and he’s sure his pupils are as wide as yours.

“Are you okay?”

How can he not be okay when you're kissing his mandible? Teeth teasing against the pulse you’ve risen should drive him to dizzying madness but only acts to ground him back into reality,

“Jus’ cannot believe you’re here with me.”

It gives him a chance to swallow the lump in his throat,

“Who else would I be with, skxawng?”

And you're grasping at the base of him to hold his heavy leaning cock steady; he whines at the sight of your spit drooling past your pretty lips and hisses at the feeling of it plopping against him. He supposes you could use all the help you could get if you hoped to take him.

As you slide the girthy blunt tip against your slit he rewards you with a moan. A deep sound that reverberates against his chest. It makes you all too eager to try and sink down onto the tip.

But Rotxo’s arms are stronger than you and he doesn't want you to do that, so he uses that strength against you. Despite being so giving and nice on the regular, rolling over and letting you boss him around and do what you wanted he was going to mate you the way he wanted to, and you were going to take it.

When the jolt of his hands moving to hold your hips in place makes your pussy flutter against his tip he has to remind himself of that before he loses all of his resolve and pushes you down onto his length in one swift movement. The thought made him cringe. He didn’t waste all this time opening you up for him just to hurt you,

“You going to let me mate you, tsyeym?” He asks

If you think you could roll your eyes without invoking the hunter's wrath you would have. He was acting as though you hadn’t been pulling and tugging on his prettily kept braid since you had first felt his imposing length against you.

“I am not above begging,”

Though you’re chuckling softly in his ear your fingers are dancing down his kuru, and when your finally twirl the ends of his hair covering his tswin around your slender fingers he can’t help but slide just the first couple of inches of him into you. He can’t tell if he feels your fingers caressing his nerves more or the far too-tight ring of your pussy sucking him into you.

“Ma’Rotxo-”

Your free hand braces yourself down on his bicep, digging your fingernails into his flesh as if you’re the one overstimulated.

“Thought you were tough, huh?” He chides, “Wanna fight with me but can’t even take me bullyin’ my cock into ya, huh?”

If you were mean you would have tugged on his braid, giving him a semblance of the perineum sting you felt at the girth of him-

“Don’t be an asshole to me, Rotxo.”

You’re trying to be bossy still and it doesn’t suit the fact that your body feels so pliable in his hands. He doesn’t even dignify you with an answer, not when he wants you to be flush against his hips. Not when he wanted you to feel as much of him as you could before he made you feel even more. He feels a little bad that you’re so small in comparison to the Metkayina people. Though an embarrassing part of him loves the idea of spending the rest of his life drilling into your warmth until you’re molded to him he worries about how sore you’d be in the morning. He promises himself that he’d be extra kind to you tomorrow- tend to anything you could want. He will take care of you as a thank you for the way you were about to let him use you.

You couldn’t think of a time when Rotxo hadn’t taken care of you- this felt no different. So when you feel one of his hands caress you on the mission to reach around your body and pull you apart further so that more of him could slide inside all you do is huff and give into his guidance.

“Look at you,”

He sounds winded at the feeling of you clenching against him. You’re surprised he enters as easily as he does. Surprised the pressure doesn’t hurt as bad as you feared it would. Especially when one of his thumbs moves over your clit in soft quick motions,

“Just gotta relax a lil’ more.”

His eyes are fixed down; watching you take him inside of you. He doesn’t even care anymore that the end of his braid is held in your soft hand. He ignores the uncomfortable throb that shoots through it. He only has to endure seconds more of it before he’s rewarded with the slippery plap of your hips meeting. He feels bigger than ever when your hands leave their respected body parts to grab at his cheeks. He’s sure you meant to kiss him but you only managed to moan against his open mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, “Took it all so good.” another kiss,

“Fucking Metkayina- too big,” Of course, you’re grumbling right now. Of course, you have a grumpy little voice even when he’s in your guts.

“You are rude,” one of his arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, partially to appreciate your warmth but mostly so he could reach around and grab your own braid.

“Shouldn’t even touch this now, huh?”

His soft eyes give him away, and he knows you know him too well. You know that once you pull his braid over his shoulder that he’d rush to bring yours closer.

You were right of course, he’s quick to hold the bioluminescence of your tswin’s tendrils painfully close to his own. There’s something that makes your stomach tighten painfully at the sight. There was something so exciting about the fact that you were so close to being with him- all you had to do was dip your hand forward. The thought has you rolling your hips down against him to alleviate the throb of your clitoris. It’s all he needs before his other hand leaves your hip to grab your wrist that holds his tswin.

“Look at me,”

You’re so good for him. So obedient when your eyes instantly snap from where your hands almost make you one- to his eyes. He thinks you’re so beautiful. Sultry and warm and so undeniably wild. So easily he gives into the magnetic force that’s been trying to convince him to pull your tswin into his.

He thinks his heart stops at the way your eyes haze over and you melt into him. The way you practically purr as he feels his lap grow wetter. Now you were all of those things- but you were also his.

“Oh, Eywa,”

He feels bad for how roughly his one arm pulls you into him, he feels how much fuller it makes you feel but he has to feel your heartbeat against him. He thinks this is bliss- that he can’t get anything better than this. Then you begin scooting your hips back and forth against his. His hands are too quick to reach for your hair, digging his fingers into it.

The pretty way your face screws up as your pace quickens has him star-struck. The echo of your pleasure tickled his lower stomach. He can’t help but lift his hips to meet yours; the slapping sound of skin as you bounced against him is enough to spur him into near madness. Both of your throats are caught- stunned in silence over the sheer amount of feeling tsaheylu adds.

He feels bad because he knows you feel so good going at your own pace and using him to fill yourself to your heart's content. He can’t focus on that guilt when he has such an uncontrolled need to be on top of you. His hands halting your hips have you confused, and you’re only more shocked when he’s heaving you up and tossing the both of you until your back is against the sand and your hips are hiked on his firm thighs.

He doesn’t even give you a second to take in the change, slipping himself all the way into you in one fluid movement, palms returning to the fat of your hips so he could roll and grind down into you. He loves the way you clench as he rolls across your g-spot. The view is beautiful, and the way your hands reach between your thighs and rub your fingers against yourself for him only drives him further into ecstasy.

“So pretty for me,” He loves how easy it is to make you clench and throb. “My pretty mate,”

His eyes are fixed on the way your breasts bounce at the power of his thrusts and the way your stomach bulges. He knows if he focuses on your pretty face he’d be finished the way your wide eyes don’t focus on anything and the dark purple stain of your blush. He’s never quite seen your markings glow so bright. He’d never live down finishing before he even got a chance to fuck you properly- before he could really appreciate the view. So he grabs at your hips and wiggles you side to side in an effort to stimulate you further,

“Let me fuck you for real now baby,” and his hand travels up your legs that are bent against your bodies, straightening one leg over his shoulder so he could kiss your calf. How could you say no when he asks so sweetly while he was so deep inside of you?

“Please? Can you please move again?”

He forgot you could be so polite when you want to be. He’s all smiles, starting at a comfortable pace. His speed picked up quickly as he could use your whole leg as an anchor, but he still stays relatively shallow. Just to give you enough time to adjust before he picks up a punishing pace.

He knows he’s fucking you entirely too loud. He knows the way you moan under him is entirely too loud. He knows the nighttime waves aren’t loud enough to drown out what he’s doing to you but all it does is spur him on. He wishes you’d be louder but he knows you have more dignity than he does.

How can he slow down when you’re telling him he’s so good? You’re gasping as he falls forward onto one hand for more leverage. Still holding your hips up by one leg so he could slam into you. The change of position has you dragging sinfully across him and it almost distracts you from the sound of his grunts. It was magnifying seeing him worked up over you- he wasn’t even in a rut and had desired you so deeply.

“Gon- Shit. Roxto 'm gonna cum,”

The way he reacted to your words is what sends you over the edge. The way he hunches over and begins to slam into you while his eyes bore into yours. The sloppy sound of you cumming all over him and your eyes rolling into you head bring him closer more than the feeling of you clamping down on his cock. He didn’t think you could squeeze tighter and it’s embarrassing how easy you make him cum. Just barely enough time to slip out and shoot himself all over you.

He means to hit your stomach honestly, expecting it to pool where you had been slightly folded. Except he had forgotten how worked up you had gotten him- how badly he had wanted to cum in you. The sheer amount that painted your warm stomach and azure boobs should have embarrassed him but the sight of his cum shooting further and globbing on your chin and lips consumes him. You lay half folded under him, grasping onto him while you panted. Covered in his cum. No one could get near you without knowing you were his.

He can’t help but act on his desires and lean down to cage his big arms around you. Running his tongue up your chin and across your lips. You taste the salt on his lips when he immediately kisses you, and at the bite of his teeth, you’re opening your mouth so he can spit him into your mouth.

It should be raunchy and make you feel like a whore but he does it so softly and kisses you so libidinously that the swirl of his tongue against yours has you both purring into each other's mouth.

You’re perplexed at how quickly he’s back to sweet Rotxo. Kissing you gently and caressing skin that just knew the punishing grip of his strength.

He’s tall when he sits up on his knees, and now that he’s not hunched over rutting into you it truly dawns on you just how much bigger he is than you.

He scoffs as he looks around him and you’re almost confused until you watch him lean over to grab both of your bottoms before he’s grinning down at you and scooping his hands under you.

His cheeks hurt from smiling at the sound of you giggling foolishly at him as he heaves you into the air. You're both red-faced and covered in sweat and sand and he can’t wait to walk into the cooling water with you in his arms.

#rotxo imagine #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #avatar smut #rotxo smut #rotxo x reader #atwow rotxo #rotxo fluff #he’s so babygirl #i want him #aonung x reader

1K notes · View notes

photogirl894 · 29 days

Note

Hey Morgan!

Sorry to be popping in again so soon with another request. You're amazing and obviously ignore this if it's too much or anything 😂

If you don't mind, could I have a sick!reader with Tech taking care of her? I've been feeling pretty miserable and would love some clones to take care of me 😍

Thank you bestie 😁

Bestie, I am so sorry you've been feeling sick the last couple days 🥺 I would give you a big hug if I could!

I know you told me to pick the prompts myself for this, which was a fun challenge! I hope you like the ones I picked! I picked one from Fluff/Romance, one from Angst and two from Physical Affection! 😊

"Bedridden"

28. “Your smile brightens every room you walk in.”

26. “I would rather die.”

14. Comforting hug

30. Carrying someone bridal style

Pairing: Tech x fem reader

***

It had been a while since you'd been sick and it was hitting you hard.

It had started off with mild congestion that you thought had been caused by just the atmosphere of the planet you and the Bad Batch had just been to, but it persisted and got worse. Then your throat began to hurt to where it felt like you were swallowing razors.

You had Tech check you over when things didn't seem to get any better and the others were starting to get concerned. He checked your vitals and your temperature and you were starting to develop a fever along with everything else. You definitely caught some sort of virus. From what source, Tech was trying to figure out.

Though, you were stubborn, just like the rest of them and wanted to keep going and doing your part for the squad. You kept working on things in the ship, ignoring everyone's pleas for you to stop and to rest. Unfortunately, you ended up overexerting yourself and you nearly passed out on the floor. Luckily, Tech had been close by and had caught you in his arms.

"All right, my dear, enough of this foolishness," he stated as he swept you off your feet and carried you bridal style to your bunk on the ship. "You are too ill for anymore manual labor and your symptoms will only worsen should you persist. I am taking you to bed and you are going to get proper rest."

You could only groan in protest, but it was very weak.

After he put you to bed, you tried to sleep, but you ended up developing aches and chills throughout your whole body, which made you incredibly uncomfortable and sleep evaded you. Not long later, you called out for Tech and he came into the room with a small cup in his hand as well as a couple blankets.

"I assume you have aches and chills now?" he asked you.

You nodded, moaning painfully.

"I predicted this would happen," he said. Then he held out the cup to you and said, "Drink this. It will help."

You knew he was trying to get you to take some medicine that more than likely had an awful taste to it and the thought of that made your stomach churn.

"I would rather die," you said flatly.

He gave an unamused look. "I'll hear no such talk from you," he scolded you. You were shivering and, after setting the cup down momentarily, he took the blankets and laid them on you. "If you were to perish, then we would be devoid of your kind spirit and your lovely smile, which would be most unfortunate," he then said kindly to you as he tucked the blankets in around you to help keep you warm.

Through your shivers, you asked him, caught off guard, "Y--you...you th--think my s-smile is...lovely?"

Tech smiled down at you with a smile so soft, it would've made you swoon, were you not so sick, weak and bedridden. Yet it still made your heart flutter nevertheless.

"My dear, your smile brightens every room you walk in. I see it every day," he informed you. Then he took back up the cup of medicine and told you again to drink it.

With a groan of disgust, you replied, "You can't j--just compliment a girl like that and th--then tell her to dr--drink something nasty."

"I can if it means ensuring that you will regain your health and strength," he retaliated. "Now, please drink the medicine before I am forced to administer it through more assertive methods."

You gulped nervously, which was a mistake as it only aggravated your sore throat even more. Then finally, you sat up, took the cup from him and just downed it in one quick gulp to just get it over it. The flavor, as you predicted, was bitter and harsh in taste. It made you shudder and gag, but at least it was done.

Tech took the cup from you and said, "It should make you drowsy shortly, which will help you get some better sleep and combat the remainder of your symptoms. You must now focus on recovering from this ailment so you can return to normal. It pains me to see you in such a miserable state."

"I appreciate that, Tech," you replied as you leaned back against the wall and sighed. "I hate being sick...so much. I hate feeling miserable, but having to be isolated so I don't get anyone else sick. It sucks not having someone hold me or even just be there with me when I could really use someone."

"Then I will not leave you alone, even if it means your sickness transfers to me," he suddenly declared.

Then, to your even greater surprise, he pulled you into a tight yet gentle and comforting hug, his hands pressing down into your back. Even though his pressure hurt slightly from your aches, you didn't care. You were getting a hug from Tech, which was incredibly rare and something you'd only dreamed of getting from him. His embrace and the words he'd said gave you everything you needed in that moment and you gladly hugged him back.

He then stripped down to his blacks, moved himself onto the bed and continued to hold you, offering you both warmth to fight your shivers as well as comfort to ease your unpleasantness. You felt as though you could've stayed in his arms forever. The medicine soon took effect and you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as sleep took you, the last thing you heard before drifting off was Tech promising that he would be there when you awoke.

Photogirl894's Fluff/Romance prompts

Photogirl894's Angst prompts

Photogirl894's Physical Affection prompts

Photogirl894's 1,300 Followers celebration fics

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch tech #bad batch prompts #tech x reader #photogirl894 1300 followers

98 notes · View notes

honeyyjems · 9 months

Text

plague

content warning (s): blue lock spoilers, manga spoilers, mature language, mention/use of alcohol, hard dom!kunigami, public sex (party bedroom), unprotected sex, exhibitionism, rough sex, hate sex?, fear play, slight degradation, masochism, hair pulling, dirty talk, choking, manhandling, biting, mention of blood, overstimulation, use of pet name, bit of breeding and corruption.

summary: The breakup is eating you alive, Kunigami Rensuke plagues your body and mind even when he shouldn’t, the sweet and dirty memoires you have are all you have left. You miss him, but you don't want it to take control over you anymore. Maybe hooking up with a guy will get Kunigami out of your system. You really hoped it would because you don't know what you’ll do if it didn’t.

pairing: Wildcard!Kunigami Rensuke x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

a/n: this is my first bluelock fic and i love kunigami so i hope to be adding some dirty yummy smut to this statue of a man. I've been reading to much dark romance books and seeing a dark kunigami triggered something deep within me *evil giggle* also i want to tank my love kaitlyn for beta reading/editing <3

song (s) mentioned: ‘blue’ - kali uchis || ‘house of balloons’ - the weeknd

banner credit: made it myself ;)

masterlist | requests | join my tag-list

Three months

It's been three months since you’ve heard from him, since he showed up at your front door telling you that it was over, like it was nothing; absolutely nothing. He changed. His hair, build, attitude… but it was his eyes that startled you. They would shine when they looked into yours, but the ones you stared into were dull and devoid of light. The words that came out his mouth still haunt you when you have moments alone; Plaguing your mind and soul.

You still kept in contact with your friends that were Kunigamis. They treated you with nothing but kindness and support. When Reo finally explained what had happened in his last moments with Kunigami, a dark tension dawned on you. The way your blood went cold and your hands clammy; What had he felt in that moment? You were worried about him after Isagi and Chigiri told you their concerns on what might’ve happened to Kunigami in “Wildcard”. But that didn’t excuse his behavior towards you.

Soccer was something Kunigami had always loved more than anything, until you. You understood his priorities and never overstepped yourself; Encouraging him when he felt defeated. When Bluelock entered the picture, you pushed him into it. Although he would be away from you and everyone he held most dear, this was his chance to prove to himself he could be the soccer hero he’s always wanted to be.

When he appeared on your doorstep three months ago, practically spitting in your face with the disgusting words, throwing you away, and the entire relationship, it was an utter shock. It was hard to move on, and you were trying your very best to keep everything together; However, today was the day you decided you really needed him out of your fucking system.

Dee’s voice brought you out of your head, “Are you fucking serious?” she exclaimed. The words that fell from your lips were a surprise to yourself but you needed this; You wanted this.

“Yes…” You paused and tilted your head. “I think so.” you replied.

Dee’s eyes stared into yours, still processing, making a giggle escape your lips. Standing at the hood of Dee’s car, you turned and walked towards her driveway, hearing her shuffle behind you.

You threw your hand up, your back still faced towards her, “Don’t make me fucking regret it, Dee.” you teased.

Dee scoffed, “Oh babe, you’ll thank me for it.”

Hearing Dee take out her phone to call up your friends to pregame for the party tonight, the sound bled into the background, covered by your racing thoughts. Kunigami has consumed you, in body and soul. When you touched yourself, it was his hands that trailed your body. It was his lips on your neck. His scent of cedarwood on your skin and clothes.

God fucking damn it.

All you wanted was the heartache and memories to go away. Maybe hooking up with a guy will get Kunigami out of your head. You really hoped it would because you don’t know what you’ll do if it didn’t.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Are you sure you're fine?” Chigiri asked for the ninth time tonight.

Bringing down the shot glass from your lips and letting it hit with a thump on the table, “Yes for the… how many times now?” You say with slight annoyance, using your fingers to mock count to Chigiri.

A laugh falls from his lips, “Okay, okay.” he says, bringing his hands up in defiance. Yours eyes meet his, everything that wasn't said could be said with just the look in his eyes. He hates that he knows the pain you still feel inside. Clearing your throat, turning to look to your left, you see the guy who's been staring at you all night, your eyes meeting across the bar. A buzz lingers on your skin, he was already undressing you with his gaze alone.

Chigiri’s eyes follow your gaze, seeing everything unfolding before him. You feel a nudge on your arm, but you still maintain eye contact. “You still have that condom I gave you?” he teases, making you turn and nudge him with your hip. As you both laugh at each other, Chigiri leans down and kisses the top of your head, “Have fun, okay?” he breathes into your hair. Nodding in response, he turns and leaves, assumingely to find the rest of his friends.

As you reach to grab the Bacardi to pour into your shot glass, you feel eyes on you. His eyes. No, it’s not his eyes you assured yourself. Gripping the shot glass, you bring it to your lips, swinging your head back. The burn you feel in the beginning of the night is practically gone.

A broad body stands beside you, “God, look at you.” the guy whispers into your ear. “Eye candy alright...”

The black mini dress always hugged the right places around your body. A devious smile spreads across your face, “Want a taste?” you toy.

You feel his arm wrap around your waist as he presses himself into your back. You feel him already stiff in his pants. Holding the groan that almost slips out, you turn to face him. His lips and breath lingers on top of your lips, just a hair away. Getting on your toes, you lick his cupid's bow.

You had no idea where this confidence came from, but alcohol is to thank for this boost. His hand grabs yours, trailing you behind him into the back of the house away from the crowd. Walking behind him, your head starts to spin in doubt, but fades as you enter a dark room.

The guy, you still don’t know his name, nor do you care to learn it, flips the light switch. “No,” you say as you reach quickly to turn them off again. Darkness filling the room again.

“You afraid of the dark?” you ask in a low voice. There was silence, but the muffled sound of Kali Uchis’s ‘Blue’ through the walls.

“Fuck no,” he growls in the darkness. His lips crash into yours. The kiss was desperate and fast, his fingers sinking into the back of your neck with his thumb on your check, deepening the kiss. Trailing your hand up his shirt, you grip it as you pull him with you to walk more into the darkness. Your back hits the wall with a thud, but that doesn’t stop anything. He licks the top of your lip signaling to let him in. You open up for him obediently, his tongue exploring yours.

A whimper escapes you, his mouth swallowing the sound. He nudges his knee in between your legs, making you arch into him. Tilting your head back to breathe, his lips descend to the crook of your neck. You grind yourself into his leg to add friction to the throbbing pain between your legs. His fingers tug on the strap of your dress bringing it down, leaving a wet kiss in its place.

Closing your eyes, you let your overwhelming need engulf you, but a soft light flashed underneath your lids causing you to open them. The light disappears fast as it comes, you stare into the darkness. His hand lays on top of your hip, digging into them. Grabbing his neck, you bring him back to your lips, kissing him rougher this time; showing him you want him now. The sound of groans and heavy breathing fills the room.

With your eyes closed you feel yourself turn, the side of your face on the wall. His hand clutches the back of your head, pulling the hair causing your head to fall back towards him. He grinds himself into your ass, feeling his hard cock on you. Pushing your ass back into him, his groans tickle the back of your ear. A sharp throb hits your clit, as you feel his other hand pull your black dress up.

The cool air hits your hot skin. He brings your hands to lay on the wall, as you dig your nails into the surface as he continues to dry hump you through his pants. With the added friction to your clit, you could feel your orgasm creeping, but then it was gone.

The guy pulls away, leaving you standing alone in the darkness. All you could hear was shuffling and heavy breathing. Since you were facing the wall, you couldn't see anything. A faint light fills the room and disappears with the loud shut of the door. The sound makes you flinch and turn, but you are only met with blackness staring back at you.

“H- hello?” you stammer.

Silence. Your breathing quickens, making your body tense with uneasiness.

“Pussy…” you scoff, “Won’t finish what you started?”

You fix the strap on your shoulder and tug your dress back down, and wait. Hoping to hear a snarky remark. Anything.

Once again, silence. You only hear the song ‘House of Balloons’ through the walls. You push yourself off the wall to walk towards the door, a hand hits the center of your chest shoving you back. Fear claws your skin, making your blood run cold.

Your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. Is this guy fucking around with you now? But you weren't going to back down; two can play at that game.

“What do you want from me?” you question the person, trying to hide the shake in your voice. He didn't move, nor did he say anything. You've grown tired of always wondering what every outcome will be, this was the moment where you’d just see where this goes, even if it’s scary.

“What do you want?” You yell. A lump forms in your throat making it hard to swallow. Nothing. You didn't want to ask the question that came into your head, but you needed to.

“Are.. are you going to hurt me?” You ask.

“I dont know.”

What the fuck? He doesn't know?

Swallowing hard, “Do you want to?” you question.

“A little.”

His voice was low and breathy, masking it under the quietness in the room.

“Why?” you ask, heart thumping in your ears.

“Because I'm messed up,” he answers. You hold your breath, staying as silent as you can, hoping he wouldn’t continue.

“I can't feel anything but fear anymore,” he whispers, “It consumes me.” Your hands began to shake beside you.

You hear him take a step. “I don't know what I'll do.” he said.

You couldn't see where he was in the darkness but you could feel his heavy stare on you. A snarl rips through the air, his lip smashing into yours. The kiss was hungry, like he was starving. He manhandles you, his rough, large hand gripping your hip while the other latches into your hair. He yanks it, making you yelp into his mouth, giving him the chance to slip his tongue in. He tastes different than before.

No.

Maybe the fear in you was making you hyper aware.

You move your hands into his hair, feeling an undercut.

Was that there before?

You squeeze his locks in between your fingers. He groans, his hold in your hair tightening even more, the sting on your scalp becoming stronger. However, the assault on your mouth soothes it. You catch a small hint of a scent.

Wha- no I’m just imagining it, you think.

You didn't want to feel or think anything. Maybe he will hurt you, but you didn't care. Hell, just him scaring you is making you soak through your panties.

God, you were sick in the head. Feeling his hand slip under your dress and lightly press a finger against your center.

“Already soaked.” he taunts. “…didn't take much.” you growl at his comment.

A chuckle bubbles up from him, “I wanted to see something,” he says. “And I was right.”

You freeze, knowing exactly what he meant. You push him off of you, making him stumble back. You swing your hand in front of you to hit him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. His heavy breathing matches yours, and he places your hand on his chest.

A cold metal chain hit on your fingers. Trying to get your breathing under control, you hold the chain trailing your fingers down, following its coolness before something stops you when it hits the end. A pendant. Tracing your forefinger over the pendant, feeling it, but you freeze in place.

A snake pendant. You know that fucking pendent. You bought it yourself.

You throw your palms into his chest, shoving him as hard as you can, but he doesn't even budge. He grabs the sides of your arms, securing them beside you. “Let me go, '' you demand.

“Why?” he says roughly. It's the voice you almost thought you’d never hear again.

“Fuck you,” you bark. “Let me go.”

“Fuck you?” he growls. “I'll do more than that.”

You were fuming, anger boils at the bottom of your stomach. Who the fuck does he think he is? He was the one that left everything behind.

“You won’t do anything,” you hiss, pushing your body against his to try to loosen his grip around you. But it did only the opposite. He brings your body into his, holding you in a tight embrace, locking your arms under his strong ones.

You can feel him, smell him. The scent of cedarwood fills your nose. He’s here. This smell should've disgusted you, but it only made your heart melt. You hold in your breath trying to not devour his smell.

“Let me go or I’ll fucking bite you.” you snap.

“I was counting on it,” He whispers into your ear, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You sink your teeth into his shoulder, feeling the soft cotton and flesh underneath. A light chuckle comes from him, making you bite harder. Shut the fuck up, motherfucker. Increasing the pressure each second, but he doesn’t move. This has to be hurting him. You can hear his breaths becoming raspy and deep.

“Har- harder,” he stutters. His hold on you gets tighter. You freeze. You wanted to hurt him, but biting any harder would break his skin. Kunigami Rensuke, please don-

“Harder!” he barks, making you flinch at the sudden outburst, but you do as he says.

You sink your teeth harder into him, feeling his soft flesh break under the pressure, tasting a hint of copper on your tongue.

Kunigami hisses as he takes a short breath. You feel tears at the brim of your eyes. I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sor- You slowly loosen your jaw around him, setting your forehead against the front of his shoulder.

There’s only the sound of your breaths in the room, the hum of the party, the world on the outside.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a sense of guilt. The world stops, just for a second.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused.” he whispers as you hear his heart racing, “The trouble.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“But most of all… I’m sorry for breaking your heart.”

Everything comes crashing down, breaking into a million pieces. Yes, he did hurt you, but you know you would be there for him in a heartbeat. Your heart will always beat for Kungami Rensuke. We want what we want. You know it's bad to want him after everything he’s done, but you want to let him know that you’re there for him at this moment; right now you want him.

His hold on you had long loosened, softening into a warm embrace. You bring your hand down to his, grabbing and placing it around your neck, your hand layered on his.

“Ren,” you say softly, “I want you.”

You feel him tense and take in a sharp breath. You tighten your hand around his, making the hold firm.

“I want… you.” you say, making sure he understands what you are trying to really say. Never knowing what really made him change, you know it is still Kunigami. This Kunigami is scared and broken, but fixing him isn’t on your mind; you want to help him.

His mouth slams onto yours again, but this time you are the one hungry, starving. Your teeth clang against each other, taking whatever you both can take. Kunigami sucks on your bottom lip giving it a small bite, making your clit throb under you. A whimper comes from you remembering how good it feels to have him all over. His hold on your neck tightens as he pushes you back to the wall, his hand on your neck holding you in place.

Standing in front of each other, you wait for his next move. The cool air covers your breasts as you hear a loud rip of fabric, your dress. He ripped the front of your dress with one hand. You didn't even bother wearing a bra with your outfit tonight. Your nipples harden under the cool of the air, being in the dark make your senses even more heightened. Kunigami’s mouth lowers to your chest, sucking and biting your left breast. Arching into him, you try to grind on something, anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your legs.

Kunigami’s mouth switches to the other breast, sucking, but gives a small bite right next to your nipple. You quiver under him, as he continues teasing your nipple between his teeth and tongue. You can’t take it anymore, you want him inside you.

“Ren.. please.” you beg. The nickname you know he loves so much. You slide your palms under his shirt, feeling his toned abs and pecs.

His mouth on you doesn’t stop but moves up your neck, leaving wet sloppy kisses in its trail. Kunigami’s grip on your neck moves to your chin. The weight of his eyes on you feel so heavy, you don’t know if you are looking into them, but you can fucking feel them.

“Please what?” he says amusingly.

Trying to swallow the dryness in your mouth, “Please fuck me.” You whimper, “I need you inside me.”

“I love hearing when you beg for it,” he says with a smile on his face.

He moves away from you, tearing your dress even more, feeling the ripped fabric rip down the middle. It was in shreds while it hung beside your body. All you have is your black lace thong. Shame is what you should be feeling, but there was none.

Kunigami returns to you, and roughly pushes you in the chest as he settles himself between your legs. He still hadn’t taken his hard cock out but you can feel the giant bulge against your slick pussy. He brings his hand to your pussy, just holding you there. You hold your breath.

“This belongs to me,” Kunigami says, “You are mine.” You whimper at his comment.

He presses his finger into you through your thong, getting a gasp from you. A low grunt comes from him, “Who do you belong to?” Kunigami presses, “Say it.”

You freeze, but he pushes another finger into you. Your legs shake so hard, leaving to collapse on him any second. “Say it.” He says again.

“I-I’m” you hesitate. A third finger pushes into you, stretching you wide even through your thong. “To you…” you declare, “I belong to you.”

“That's my baby doll.”

He takes his fingers out of you and grabs the hem of the tong and rips it off. Shivers spread all across your skin at the rough handling. You hear the jingle of his belt, your pussy clenches at the sound. Something soft hits the ground before he has his hands on you again. Kunigami presses you on the wall, placing his hand under your knee, opening you up for him.

Kunigami rams his cock into you without any resistance, making you gasp at the sudden stretch. You’ve never felt so full, and he is so deep inside you. Not a second to waste, Kunigami pounds into you, the slap of his balls hitting your pelvic. Each hard stroke, you can feel every ridge of his cock, the vein on it sliding against your clit.

You clench around him, he groans loud. “You like it when I treat you like a sleeve?” He says, not sounding at all out of breath.

He gets his response by you clenching on him again. He continues his pounding, setting a fast rhythm. The room fills with skin smacking and the obscene sound your pussy makes as you suck him in.

You need to hold onto something, so you hold onto his shoulders, feeling his soft hot skin on your hands. Keeping the pace, Kunigami places his other hand under your other knee, hoisting you up on the wall; Only leaving you to hold onto him. Leaving you at his mercy. Heat fills your center, your orgasm coming close.

You wrap your arms around his neck and crash your mouth on his, kissing him passionately and eagerly. You suck on his tongue, savoring his taste.

“Rensuke,” You moan, “I-I’m.” You lay your forehead on his shoulder, but hear him hiss. The bite. You lift your head and place your mouth over the bite, licking it, the copper taste on your tongue. Kunigami grunts as you continue to lick the wound you made.

His thrusts begin to falter just a bit, signaling he’s almost there too. You place your entire mouth on the bite, and suck on it.

“Oh,” Kunigami says, “You’re fucking dirty.” Your moan is muffled as you suck harder on his shoulder.

“I'm going to fill your pussy with my cum.” he growls, “I’m claiming what's mine.”

You groan on him and your pussy clenches at the comment. Kunigami flattens his palm against your pelvis and applies firm pressure. Your spine nearly breaks at the sensation, feeling him so much more intensely.

“Come on, baby doll.” Kunigami grunts, “Come on me.”

With those words, a flash of white hits behind your eyes. A shock runs through you, making you groan so loud and clear for him. Your body convulses against him but Kunigami still keeps ramming his cock into you. You just hold on for the ride as you come down. His name is pouring from your lips. The overstimulation brings tears to your eyes. You shut your eyes tight and squeeze yourself around his cock.

Kungami’s thrusts shudder, “Fu-FUCK,” he grunts loud into your ear as he loads you with white hot liquid. He fills you, doing exactly what he told you. His cock and cum all in you, claiming you as his. He gives you a couple more slow and hard pumps before he holds himself inside you. His cock still pulsing inside as you both try to catch your breaths.

Kunigami slowly takes himself out with a loud pop at the end of his cock, leaving you to mewl at the sudden emptiness. You feel so empty and weak but so euphoric. He gently places you back on your feet; However, still holding you up.

He presses his forehead against yours. Time stands motionless. Not a word was uttered, but there was a lot being said. Kunigami softly drops his hands, leaving you alone in the darkness. You feel him leave you and hear his feet as he walks. Away from you. Once again, you are alone in the dark without him.

A light switch being flicked on sounds in the room. A sudden burst of light makes you flinch, making you squint your eyes and place a hand over your face. A light chuckle fills the room as you pull down your hand.

You know you looked like an absolute mess, completely fucked out and naked; besides the, now ripped and shredded, black dress around you.

“Seriously?” You say, flicking your hand at him, middle finger in the air. A loud laugh bursts from his mouth, the sound brings butterflies to your stomach. You can’t help but laugh as well. You both laugh lost in the moment, but as it dies, reality settles in.

“This doesn't fix anything.” you say softly, looking into his auburn eyes.

Kunigami stares back into you, “It’s a start.” he says.

Breaking the stare, he walks over to his shirt and hoodie on the floor. Kunigami slips into his shirt, but you can’t help but stare at his body. He already settled himself under his boxers but his v-line peeks beneath the undone jeans. The feel of his seed seeps down your inner thighs.

Something hit your face making you gasp. His black hoodie falls into your arms. A tiny smile breaks on your face but you quickly drop it. You slip on the hoodie and Kunigami’s scent swallows you whole.

No one really knows what happened to Kunigami in “Wildcard", but he’s still him. Although he’s changed, you don’t want to change nor fix him. You want to understand where he is. He is sure guilty for all the sins he’s done. Maybe he has always had this dark side to him and it's just coming up to the surface. Kunigami is afraid, but he doesn’t need to be.

A shadow needs a light and you are his.

tag-list: @kentosovertime @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @bebechinas99 @katgalle @akisbrew

#jems writing #kunigami rensuke #kunigami rensuke smut #kunigami smut #kunigami rensuke x reader #kunigami x reader #kunigami rensuke x you #kunigami rensuke x y/n #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #wildcard!kunigami

237 notes · View notes

arduouslove · 1 year

Text

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn 06

genres: hybrid, romance, found family, slow burn(ish) series rating: mature (mentions of/references to death and abuse. eventual smut) chapter warnings (may contain spoilers): mentions of death. accusations of drugging/roofie-ing. descriptions of injury to the face. the reader character cooks meat; if you don't eat meat, please think of it as them just cooking it for other people. relationship(s): ot7 x female reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

The floor is cold when you wake up on it, though not as cold as it could be, so you must've been sleeping on the floor for at least a couple hours. As you sit up, you try to get on your knees, but find your legs tangled up in half of a throw blanket. You grumble, touching one hand to the side of your head, where you had to have laid directly on the floor rather than the throw pillow you can see pushed under the coffee table. Okay, you're definitely not telling Hoseok your head kind of hurts. He's already enough of a worrywart. Speaking of...

Looking up at the couch, you see Hoseok's sleeping face smushed against the cushion, his hair ruffled all over and his mouth slightly open. Upon closer inspection, a small wet spot of drool has grown on the couch cushion directly under his mouth. You grimace at that but quickly shake the split second of disgust away. It's just saliva; it'll wash out just fine.

You untangle yourself from the blanket, and when you stand up, you drape it over Hoseok's sleeping form as quietly as you can. Yawning, you head to the kitchen, first filling your kettle and turning it on, then moving to the other side of the counter and unplugging your phone from the wall. As the screen flicks on, you see a missed call from Lee Minhyuk from only a few minutes ago, and a text from him that followed soon after.

It seems I forgot to leave one last thing to you. I found it in our storage this morning. I'll be in my office all day if you'd like to come and pick it up. Otherwise, please let me know by phone call.

As professional as always, this guy. Glancing over at the microwave, you take note that it's only 8:56AM, which isn't that early for someone like him, but still. Lee Minhyuk is punctual, you'll give him that. Well, you suppose if you head out soon, you could get back before ten, depending on what it is Minhyuk forgot to give you. Some paperwork, maybe. He did say before that Mr. Jung had liquidated everything he owned other than the motel... You wonder what it could be.

Not wanting to wake your two house guests up, you stop the kettle before it can beep to signal that it's boiled and pour the hot water over a tea bag in a to-go mug to let it steep while you get changed. You sneak on tip-toes back to your room, and you move your hand as deftly as possible on your bedroom doorknob, focusing on your feet as you step in and close the door behind you. Bee-lining to your dresser, you tug off your pyjamas and pull on some fresh clothes as quietly as you can.

But when you turn around, Jimin is sitting up in your bed and looking at you with a frown.

"Oh my gosh!" You jump and pat a hand over your heart, taking a sharp breath in at the sudden sight of him. He barely reacts, just raising one of his eyebrows at you, his bottom half still snug under the comforter. "How long were you just sitting there?"

Eyes still half closed, Jimin says, "Long enough."

"Oh. Well..." Embarrassment trickles along your veins knowing he watched you trying to quietly sneak in. He looks too tired and uninterested to care about the fact that you changed right in front of him, though. There goes your confidence in your own sex appeal. "...Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine." His words come out short and curt, and you can't quite pinpoint why, but you get a weird feeling as you try not to narrow your eyes. He flips the covers off himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, using his hands at his sides to push himself off and stand. His eyes dart around your room. "Where are my clothes?"

You blink. "Oh. They're in a hamper in the bathroom. I was planning on putting them through the wash and then making something to eat." Of course, stopping by Lee Minhyuk's office threw a tiny wrench in those plans, but still, you weren't expecting this from Jimin as soon as he woke up. Whatever this is.

Just as he tries to exit your bedroom, you move to stand between him and the door, your hand held up. Jimin stops himself before either of you touch, and he frowns slightly when you go, "Whoa, hold on. What's the hurry?"

"I have to go back."

"Go back?" you echo, confusion tinged in your voice, but Jimin doesn't bother. He gently puts a hand on your wrist and moves you out of the way, which you let him do all too easily in your stupor. Go back? To the streets? Blinking and shaking yourself out of it, you turn to follow him into the bathroom, where you watch him find his dirty clothes at the top of the pile in the hamper. "What do you mean?"

Jimin doesn't look at you as he focuses on unbuttoning his pyjama top. "She's looking for me."

Sputtering, you completely miss the fact that Jimin is taking off his clothes right in front of you. "Rayoung?"

Even though he doesn't answer you, the determined look in his eyes tells you you're right. He slips on his old clothes and pushes past you again.

"She is?" You struggle to follow both him and his words, stepping into the main living space after him. "How do you know--"

Jimin whips around, and you almost bump into him, but your feet screech to a halt directly in front of him. He glares at you with those piercing brown eyes. "She loves me," he says.

Your mouth opens and closes like those dogs in kids movies they'd feed peanut butter to so it'd look like they were talking. You can't say what you think, no, that would be too harsh. You can't just say outright that someone who loves him wouldn't leave him to live miserably like he did. But, what can you say? You don't want him to go back to where he was, even if what he thinks of Rayoung is true... not when you have something within likeness of a solution so close to falling in your grasp. You were planning on going to the motel this evening with Hoseok -- and, ideally, Jimin -- to scope out the building better and finally figure out what the hell you're doing.

"Jimin..." You hold yourself back from reaching out to him, knowing that your touch might be the last thing he wants. "At least eat something..."

"I'm not hungry," he tells you, and with the conviction he puts behind the words, you almost believe him.

"C'mon, at least a bite--"

"No!"

Jimin's sudden volume startles you, and your eyes go wide as he pushes both hands against you, causing you both to stumble back a step. You stare at your feet for half a second before looking back up at him, a breath of a laugh tainted with disbelief puffing past your lips. "What--"

"Don't come any closer!" He wraps his arms around his chest and scrunches his eyes shut. "I don't know what was in that fucking tea, but you can't keep me here." His back turns to you. "Rayoung was right. I can't trust anyone."

Completely thrown off, you straighten up slowly, his words settling in your brain. "...Excuse me?"

Jimin says no more, simply standing there in the foyer with his back turned, shielding himself from... you.

Roused from his deep slumber, Hoseok appears next to you. His hair is tousled and pressed flat against the side of his head that he slept on, but the sight isn't as endearing as it would be if you weren't so baffled by what Jimin just said. Taking one step in front of you, Hoseok puts a hand on your arm before you've even realized you went to get closer to Jimin, one hand up and pointed at him.

"You--" Hoseok's firm grip on your arm stops you from getting far, and as he pulls you partway behind him and your shoulder bumps into his back, you lower your voice to a whisper. "You think I drugged you?"

With his head down low, Jimin still refuses to respond. His entire body trembles, fear coursing through him like rapids under his skin. Even you can see it.

But something fogs over your rationality.

"Are you serious right now? I didn't-- I would never--" You try to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in your throat and only serves to fuel this ugly feeling inside your chest. "You're delusional."

Hoseok hushes out your name, a warning of sorts, or maybe something closer to a plea. You don't hear it past the ringing in your ears.

"And it's not because of anything in my fucking tea," you continue. "No, you know why you're delusional?"

Hesitantly, Jimin turns around half-way, his frowning profile causing that awful roiling in you to flare up.

"Because even though you've been living on the streets for months, starved enough to root through restaurant trash bins, abandoned by the very person who supposedly loves you--" Something flashes across Jimin's eyes, but you have no grasp of what it is. "--you still think she's coming back for you."

No one says anything for a second -- too long, and Hoseok's hand slides down your arm and gently wraps around your wrist. You tug it out of his grasp with a sharp inhale. "So let's just go," you say, walking to where you keep your car keys. The jingle-jangle as you pick up your keys is the only sound in the apartment aside from your footsteps. "I'll take you right now. Near Antonio's, right? She left you around there and that's where you think she'll go looking for you?"

Hoseok softly calls your name again, but you don't hear him. Jimin only follows you with angry eyes.

"I was on my way out anyway," you continue. With your hand already on the doorknob, you slip on your shoes. "So yeah, I have no problem with dropping you off on your own with nowhere to go." You pull the door towards you and step out, eyes still on your feet. "Where you have no sure way of getting food."

Jimin doesn't look at you as he puts on his shoes.

"Where Hybrid Services already know your face--"

Your words choke to a stop when you look down the hall towards the elevators. That damned fluorescent yellow armband you had no business caring about a couple days ago -- two of them -- appear in your sight just a few metres away, directly in front of the apartment-next-door's open entrance, where your neighbour to the right, Anne-Marie, is talking to the two officers.

Without uttering another sound, you push Jimin back inside your apartment as quickly and overtly as you can. Unfortunately, this means you achieve that by shoving your hand in Jimin's face, but your head isn't exactly in the right place to think about hiding-someone-away etiquette.

"Wha--?! Stop--!"

"Shh!" You make frantic eye contact with Hoseok while Jimin glares daggers at you. At this point, you know you can't just go back inside yourself; both the officers and your neighbour have probably seen you already. You keep your voice as quiet as you can, hoping the boys can still hear you with their weird hybrid powers. "Both of you, not a peep. Got it?"

You don't wait for either of them to answer before you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut in their faces. As soon as you look back down the hall, both officers, a man and a woman, and Anne-Marie are looking at you.

"Good morning," you greet with a slight bow, completely unsure of what to do or say next.

Would asking some sort of question be suspicious? Or would trying to walk by and ignoring them be even worse?

Either way, you have to get to the elevator...

Before you have to decide, (or maybe after you already should've, considering the awkward silence,) Anne-Marie waves you over with a slight frown. "Leaving so early today?"

"Ah..." You nod at her with a strained smile as you walk up to her and the officers, making sure to smile and nod at them too in that weird, you're not really part of this conversation but you're standing here so I'll try to include you sort of way. "Yes, I have some errands to run this morning."

Anne-Marie doesn't question you, thank goodness, and just gestures towards the officers. "Well you should hear them out before you go," she says. "Apparently there's a feral hybrid on the loose."

"Feral hybrid?"

You don't have to fake the initial look of concern that appears on your face, but the way you deepen your frown at the flyer one of the officers hands you is definitely for show.

"Yes," he confirms, face stiff and almost bored from repeating the words so many times to all the residents in the building already. "He ran away from a hybrid clinic in the city and was last spotted in this neighbourhood."

Anne-Marie nods along as he speaks and shakes her head when he points out the area the hybrid was spotted last night on a small map included in the flyer. "So close to home..." she mutters, which he ignores.

Continuing after him, the female officer speaks up. "We're doing rounds to make sure everyone living in the area is aware of the risks of a feral hybrid, as well as inform everyone of the proper procedure."

"Which is...?"

"Do not approach," the man tells you as your eyes finally focus in on the two pictures of the feral hybrid, one from the front and another of his profile. In both photos, he's smiling, eyes bright. "It's dangerous for regular citizens to attempt to capture feral hybrids. Leave it to the professionals and call Hybrid Services upon encounter."

He doesn't look so dangerous.

His smile is wide and almost boyish, like someone told him he was posing for a photo op rather than the strange hybrid-version of a mug shot it actually is. He holds up his name placard like it's an award he's proud of. "V," it reads, then a bunch of numbers underneath. His animal ears are perked straight up, and you can't tell what kind of ears they are in the grainy black-and-white pictures, not to mention how small they look compared to Hoseok's. Still, the deepness of his smile, the happiness in his eyes and the scrunch of his nose -- you're not scared at all.

You don't say any of that, though.

"I'll keep an eye out, thank you," you say with a polite smile. "What kind of hybrid is he?"

The two share a look, the female officer grimacing before she turns back to you. "That's unfortunately classified information."

"What? Why? Wouldn't it help us be safer and more prepared if we know what he looks like?" You turn to make eye contact with Anne-Marie, who drinks in your words and nods with a slight frown towards the officers, a finger propped concernedly on her chin.

The man sighs. "As much as I agree with you, these pictures are the only images any of us have to go off of. Even Hybrid Services hasn't been informed of his sub-species. It's private information belonging to the clinic, and legally, we don't need to have it to apprehend the hybrid."

"I see..."

After thanking them again and giving your due goodbyes, you do your best not to turn around and watch the officers as you wait for the elevator. You step into the elevator, and as your finger finds the button for the ground floor, you peak down the hall and let out a breath of relief. The officers seem to have skipped your door because you already spoke to them.

It would probably be suspicious to re-enter your apartment so soon while they're still patrolling your floor, you think. The last thing you need right now is Hybrid Services finding a reason to look into you.

And, maybe, you need a minute to yourself. Just to breathe.

You hadn't meant to snap at Jimin like that, it just... So much doesn't make sense to you. You've barely had Hoseok around for a few days, but you feel as though your friendship is something already. Maybe not something to be proud of, exactly, but it's something.

Jimin... you've known him for even less time, if you could even call that "knowing" him at all. And yet, you felt this strange surge of protectiveness over him.

You really hope that isn't part of the saviour thing Hoseok spoke of before...

Sighing into the empty elevator, you try not to think about the fact that it probably is, and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Your car keys are still in your hand, the shape imprinted into your palm from how hard your nerves had made you grip them between your fingers while you talked to the officers.

You take the coward's route and run away.

Lee Minhyuk's office building isn't that far in terms of distance, but the traffic around it is pure hell. It gives you much too much time alone with only your thoughts. You try to drown them out with whatever is on the radio, but even that can't seem to calm the disquiet within you. The more you think about the things you said, the more regret builds in your gut. What right did you have to say those things to Jimin? Sure, you think it's a fool's dream to believe this Rayoung girl is out there searching for him, but to purposefully shut him down like that? To crush that dream just because you got offended by emotions he was completely valid in feeling? Just because he's been scarred by humans before and you happen to be one? It's not his fault that he thought you might've drugged him, it's a product of--

"Ah, you're here."

Blinking, you realize that your body went on autopilot and walked you up to Lee Minhyuk's office without you knowing, and you watch his back as he goes to sit at his desk.

"Yeah I... got your text," you say dazedly, unsure of anything else you could possibly say in the moment.

"Well, it's good that you came. I wouldn't want you to go without this." Minhyuk holds his hand out, and you step closer to his desk to let him drop whatever the thing he forgot is in your awaiting palm.

A single key stares up at you, attached by a small ring to a simple metal tag.

Silver Meadows Columbarium, it reads.

"Oh."

Moving the key to your fingers, you flip over the tag and read lot C 258 on the back. You'd never heard of Silver Meadows Columbarium before. Never needed to...

"I believe Mr Jung set up his..." Minhyuk pauses as he mulls over his word choice. "...accommodations before he passed."

You can't help but ask, "Just him? No family, or...?"

Your words trail off, both of you knowing that Mr Jung left you as his sole benefactor. If he had family, he didn't leave them anything. Not even the location of his remains.

Minhyuk shakes his head, and you frown.

"He prepared for his own death all by himself?"

Your concern is met with a small, understanding smile on Minhyuk's face. "Well, he may have done the paperwork himself, but he wasn't alone. He had you."

"But I--" You hardly knew Mr Jung.

"He brought you up more than once," Minhyuk says, making you close your mouth and blink stupidly at him. At your silence, he continues. "He came to my office a few times to sign the papers and whatnot, and he mentioned you every time. Always said you're the only one who laughs at his jokes."

"They're funny!"

Your own response jars you a bit. The last time you said that, you thought Mr Jung was alive.

Minhyuk only smiles again, softly. "He was happy you thought so."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but I it wasn't hard to tell. Don't get too caught up in the fact that Jung didn't have blood relatives he wanted to include in his will. Evidently--" He gestures to you. "--he had a family of sorts."

Except that you weren't it. You couldn't be, right?

A seedling plants itself in the forefront of your mind.

A seedling named Hoseok.

That's must be it -- Mr Jung wanted to leave his estate to Hoseok, but couldn't figure out how to, legally. Hybrids probably can't even have bank accounts, much less accept inheritance, which is why Mr Jung defaulted to you. He trusted you to help Hoseok start up Heaven's Door as the legal owner of the land it's built on.

In his letter, he'd said it's that it's you, whatever that means.

You look down at the key in your hand, taking a deep breath in. It might not be the key to Heaven's Door Motel, but you clutch it in your fingers, and as you step out of Lee Minhyuk's office, you make a silent promise to Mr Jung.

You'll get Heaven's Door up and running.

And you'll do a damn good job of it too.

When you return to your apartment, you have a brown paper bag of fresh pastries in your hand and a heavy something in your chest. You tried to figure out what you want to say to the two hybrids in your place on your way home, but it's hard. You feel like all you keep doing is messing up. Now, you even ran off without a word after seeing the Hybrid Services officers, which had to have freaked Hoseok out.

You grimace as you twist the doorknob. Less than an hour ago, you'd resolved yourself to running Heaven's Door with everything you've got, but are you really the right person for the job?

When you enter, you go to call out for Hoseok, but you freeze with your mouth partially open. The guys stand ramrod straight in front of you, Hoseok with a slight smile and Jimin with a hesitant clench of his jaw, arms crossed. You gape at them for a couple seconds until Hoseok frowns at Jimin and jabs his elbow into his side.

"Ow! What the--"

"Don't you have something to say?" Hoseok prompts through his teeth, a harsh grit to the question.

Jimin huffs, his arms shifting in front of his chest, hands holding his own arms a little tighter. He meets your eyes. "I'm--"

"Wait." You hold up a hand to stop him, not missing the confusion that flashes across Hoseok's face. Something like panic reflects in Jimin's eyes when he sneaks a glance at Hoseok, but you don't acknowledge it. "Let's talk." With the hand still holding the paper bag, you gesture towards the couch. "Have a seat. Both of you."

Jimin doesn't move until Hoseok does, following silently while Hoseok watches you out of the corner of his eye as he sits down.

You set the pastries on the kitchen table before making your way to them, stopping in front of the couch and chewing over your thoughts. Jimin regards you with a half-frown, brows knitted in apparent distrust. You can't really blame him.

If your ears were better, you might've heard the slight gasp Hoseok let out when you dropped to your knees, bent down, and pressed your forehead to your hands, which are now flat on the floor. You bow in front of them, let out a breath, and raise your head once you gather your thoughts, putting your hands respectfully on your lap. "I'm sorry," you say. "I fucked up."

Hoseok's ears twitch, dipping, and he scoots forward on the cushion, about to say something, but you don't let him.

"Jimin, I want to apologize for this morning. I had no right to react the way I did." You look at Jimin, but you can't read his face. "It's not your fault if humans have hurt you enough to make you think we're all the same. People can be... horrible. I wish things were different, but... I want you to know that I will never intentionally hurt you--" Your eyes meet Hoseok's. "--either of you. I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to force or coerce you into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to be the kind of human you're afraid of."

Hoseok shakes his head. "I'm not afraid--"

"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," you say, wincing as you realize you've spoken over him, but when he doesn't speak up again, you continue. "I honestly feel like a walking disaster with how many times I've fucked up, and it's only been a couple days. Sometimes I speak before I think, and I really need to work on that. I'm sorry."

You don't know when you started staring into your lap, but you let out a long breath, and only after that do you slowly look up at the two hybrids. They both wear blank expressions, and it makes you want to shrink back in on yourself. "I just--"

"I lied," Jimin blurts out, and you face him, eyes slightly widening.

"...Lied? About what?"

Sighing, Jimin casts a glance at Hoseok, who nods determinedly. He fidgets with his hands, looking at them rather than meeting your eyes. "I guess, technically, Rayoung isn't looking for me right now," he mumbles. "But she will. As soon as she breaks up with her stupid tool boyfriend."

"Oh." You blink at Jimin. "Well, um... You're welcome to stay with us. Until then, I mean."

Jimin's lips form into a contemplative pout, but he says nothing.

You scratch the back of your neck. Is there a good way to approach this? "We could, um... let her know somehow? That you're with us."

You eye Hoseok, who's hopefully in the same boat for you to be saying we. He wasn't exactly Jimin's biggest fan last night, weird possessiveness over pyjama sets aside. Now, though, you see that even he can tell this Rayoung girl is bad news. Still, Jimin's ties to her seem to run deep, and you know it's nowhere near simple to tell someone a person they love isn't as great as they thought.

Jimin takes a deep breath in, his shoulders scrunching up as his body tenses and relaxes. "Can I... think about it?"

"Of course!" You perk up at the idea of him even considering your offer after the way you snapped this morning, and you point at the brown paper bag on the table. "Do you want to have breakfast while you think?"

While Jimin marks a straight line to the kitchen, Hoseok holds his hand out for you before you even move to get up. You take it, and he uses his other hand to gently grasp your elbow and lift you onto your feet. He doesn't let go right away, instead holding both your hands and whispering, "You shouldn't have gone out alone." He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. "You're still concussed."

The proximity combined with his concern for you causes heat to stir in your chest. It's uncomfortable and foreign, so you try to force it down, smiling and letting out a chuckle that screams casual. You hope. "I can hold my own. Besides, I think I'm all better; right as rain up here." You pull one of your hands out of his tender hold and curl it into a fist, knocking on your cranium like a door. Except, the impact makes your brain swish around in your skull like gargled fluoride. "Whoa-- shit."

You sway, tipping the direction you knocked your own head into. Hoseok keeps you standing, but he doesn't like it. "You just proved my point."

"Listen--"

"From now on, no going off on your own," he says, and from his tone, there's no point in a rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, and, whoa, does the room always spin when you do that? Still, even wooziness can't stopper your sarcasm. "Protective much?"

"Kind of my job description."

"I thought I was your bodyguard," you tease, and he chuckles, his seriousness evaporating with the sound.

"As if--"

"You're dumb."

You and Hoseok both turn towards the kitchen, where Jimin stands next to the table with a half eaten pastry in his mouth. Ignoring the glare he's under from Hoseok, which you don't notice, he speaks around the pastry. "Only a dumb person would go out on their own in your condition."

Even though you're pretty sure he should be on the same side as Jimin on this, Hoseok sneers at him, the slightest of growls rumbling in his throat.

Jimin holds up a hand, mockingly. "Easy, pup."

"I'm older than you, punk!"

You can't help it; you laugh. Jimin is all over the place, accusing you of atrocities one second and talking to you and Hoseok like you're long-time friends the next. The two hybrids cease their bickering at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay, okay." You take a breath to stop the giggles threatening to break past your lips. "New temporary house rule: no one should go off on their own unless they have to."

Jimin raises a brow. "No one?"

"Ideally." You nod. "Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. When the Hybrid Services officers were here before, they were telling everyone there's a feral hybrid in the area. The entire neighbourhood is going to be on alert-- I don't know how kindly they'll take to finding any unregistered or, uh, stray hybrids if they run into either of you alone."

Nodding along, Hoseok rubs his chin with his thumb. "Makes sense."

"They know what the hybrid looks like, but we don't know how much they actually care about the picture. Who knows if they'd just nab any male hybrid off the street," you say. "It's probably best to play it safe; at least while we're still in the neighbourhood."

"What do you mean, 'still in the neighbourhood'?" Jimin asks, curious.

You smack your own forehead and ignore the way Hoseok immediately brings his hands up like you're going to knock yourself over any second now. "Right, uh... We're kind of..." Bringing up a hand, you gesture between yourself and Hoseok. "...prospective business owners? Is that--? No, we're, uh...starting up a motel? But, like, for hybrids?"

Hoseok is decidedly unhelpful with explaining what Heaven's Door is meant to be, staying silent and just making a face as you botch it.

"Anyway, it might be safer if we head out there sooner rather than later if the neighbourhood is getting paranoid over stray hybrids. It's outside of the city, and Hybrid Services doesn't do patrols out there. I was thinking to move once I'd figured more shit out, but I didn't think the whole 'feral hybrid' thing would happen today, and I definitely didn't foresee meeting you." Not that anything that's happened to you in the last few days could've been foreseen, either. You smile at Jimin. "But hey, at least you were a pleasant surprise."

"Didn't I threaten to kill you?."

You shrug. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"And your guard dog attacked me."

"After you attacked her!" Hoseok argues.

Clicking his tongue, Jimin gives his head a nod. "Point taken."

"Anyhow," you continue on. "While you think about what you wanna do, I'd like you to come with us. Of course, you're free to refuse. I still have two-ish weeks of rent paid for this place, so you could stay here, but..." You share a look with Hoseok, then return your eyes to Jimin.

"...I'd be alone?" he finishes for you.

"I guess I'd just feel better if you're with us."

Jimin seems to absorb your words, but he stays silent for a few seconds. He tosses the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing quietly and brushing his hands together to get rid of the leftover crumbs. He takes a breath. "I guess I sort of owe you for the food and the bed I slept in last night... The least I can do is make you feel better."

Your cheeks make way for a beaming smile.

"Just while I think about it."

You school yourself. "Right! Right," you say, clearing your throat of any enthusiasm that might've gotten clogged in there. "Just while you're thinking about it. Nothing's set in stone."

Either Hoseok calls shotgun outside of your hearing range, or Jimin silently sits in the backseat of your car out of some unfounded sense of regularity. He doesn't speak a word as you drive, just watches the world pass by through the side window. You can't really see him in the rear view mirror, and most of your focus is on the road, but there are a few moments where you catch his fingers scratching at his arms before he flexes his hands and stops. You're reminded of the red, bumpy skin you saw on his arms. Now, it's covered by his shirt and jacket, both of which you convinced him to let you wash before you all left your apartment.

"I don't think this is the right way..." Hoseok says, squinting at the street signs as you drive out of the inner city.

"Yeah, uh." You'd looked up the address to Silver Meadows before you left, and it's practically on the other side of the city as Heaven's Door. "There's somewhere I wanted to go first. You know how I left this morning?"

Hoseok nods.

"Well, it wasn't just to throw a tantrum, if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought maybe you were trying to get those Hybrid Services officers to think you were going somewhere, so they'd think no one was in your apartment," Hoseok says, making your eyebrows rise on your forehead.

"Wow, you're pretty intuitive, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the backseat, but you can't see Jimin's face since he's sitting right behind you. "Were you guys able to hear that whole conversation in the hallway?"

Jimin scoffs, something sarcastic in the simple sound, while Hoseok nods again. "It's weird how even they don't know the species of the feral hybrid," he says. "Without that information, they'd go after any stray hybrid they encounter -- not that they weren't doing that already."

"But they might treat any stray like they're feral and dangerous," you finish the thought process for him, and when you meet his eyes, he sports a grim expression. You roll your shoulders back, sighing. "It's a good enough reason to stay on our toes, but hopefully we won't run into any trouble outside of my neighbourhood..."

And, hopefully, the feral hybrid doesn't get found by anyone less than civil. The cheerful face of that hybrid flashes across your mind, and you wonder about his circumstances. What makes a hybrid go feral, anyway? What made him run away from the hybrid clinic? How much of the information the officers gave you is a stretching of the truth?

"So where did you go?" Hoseok asks when you make another unfamiliar turn.

"Lee Minhyuk texted me -- he was Mr Jung's estate lawyer." You add that in to give Jimin some context, but you're not sure if he's even listening. "He forgot to give me the key for Mr Jung's niche."

Hoseok's brows furrow as he echoes you. "Niche?"

"It's what they call the individual sections in a columbarium," you explain, not too informed yourself, but you know enough. You take Hoseok's silence as him not filling the gaps quite yet. "Mr Jung's urn is being kept in one. Lot C, niche 258, at Silver Meadows Columbarium."

"Oh." Hoseok doesn't exactly slump in his seat, but you see the way his shoulders sag just the slightest. "He was cremated?"

You nod, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I hadn't thought about it much. I'd assumed his family was dealing with all the..." Breathing out a long exhale through your nose, you try to think of the right words. (And come up with nothing.) "...well, that kind of stuff. But apparently I'm the only one with the key."

"Mr Jung never talked about any family..." Hoseok mumbles.

A road sign ahead reads Silver Meadows, and you slow down to turn into the lot.

"You're not bringing flowers?"

You turn your head at Jimin's sudden question, surprised since he was quiet the whole drive. He meets your eyes.

"You're visiting a grave, and you didn't bring flowers?" he asks, arms crossed.

"Oh." You look downward. "I hadn't thought about that..."

Jimin doesn't say anything, and you've run out of words yourself. Does it make sense to go back to buy some? You think about Mr Jung, and far above wanting to go get flowers for him now, you wish you could've brought him one back then. When he could see it.

You find a parking spot and switch off the engine.

"It's okay," Hoseok says before any of you exit the car. He's not looking at you, though. "We can bring flowers next time."

You watch him step out of the car, and as he does, he pulls his collar out of his pocket and fastens it around his neck, clasping the metal ends together before he shuts the car door behind him. Before you'd left the apartment, you told him to bring it, but you forgot about it during the drive.

"Oh, right. Jimin." You twist in your seat and reach into your bag, finding the red velvet choker you'd stuffed in there earlier. You've never really worn it since someone gave it to you however long ago, and you just hastily grabbed it from your room before you all left the apartment. You hold it out for him. "Wear this for now. It's not technically a collar, but... no one will be looking too closely. I hope."

Jimin frowns, but he takes the choker. "Can't I just stay in the car?"

You don't want to pressure him, but you can't help the grimace that crosses your face. "I feel safer together..."

"Fine," he huffs, bringing his hands up to fasten the choker. "You're lucky this is cute."

By the time you both catch up to Hoseok, he's already found the directions to lot C. He walks silently, and when he finds niche 258, you and Jimin hang a bit back, giving him a moment.

This section of the columbarium is indoors, and the walls and niches seem to be white marble, or made to look like white marble. Whichever it is, it feels a bit... cold.

Mr Jung's niche is empty, save for the black urn inside. Jimin was probably right -- some flowers would at least bring some life to the space.

Hoseok stands in front of the niche, which is embedded in the wall at around the height of his chest. His arms hang limp at his sides. You step up beside him, and you take his hand, gently, bringing it up so you can push the key into his palm.

"I think he meant to give this to you." And everything else, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. That's a lot to put on someone all at once.

You would know.

Hoseok holds his hand in front of him, staring at the key. He looks up at you and meets your eyes with his watery ones. "You think so?"

"Of course I do." You put a hand on Hoseok's shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his coat. "You said Mr Jung never talked about any family, right? That's because you were his family."

Sniffling, Hoseok bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he breaks eye contact and returns to looking at Mr Jung's niche. "I... I wish he wasn't this far away. He made it so much harder to visit."

"Hey..." Gently, you use your hand on his shoulder to turn Hoseok toward you, then put both your hands on his arms and give him a reassuring squeeze. A tear threatens to roll down his cheek, but you reach up at thumb it away. "I know you probably knew Mr Jung better than I did, but... something in me thinks he'd want to say..." You turn your head to look at the niche, smile, and shake your head. "He's not in there." Bringing a hand up, you softly poke the pad of your pointer finger between Hoseok's eyebrows. "He's in here." You move to his chest and poke at where his heart should be. "And here." Finally, you take both his hands, a bit awkward with the one still holding the key, and hold them between you. "And that's what matters, right?"

Hoseok nods, but his face crumples up, and he tucks it into your neck. You wrap your arms around him just as his embrace you tight. Over his shoulder, you glance at Jimin, who quickly looks away, but you know he was watching. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, suddenly very interested in his worn out shoes.

"But we can still visit, right?" Hoseok mumbles into your skin, bringing your attention back to him.

"Of course. And next time, we'll bring flowers."

As you slide into one of the parking spots in front of Heaven's Door, it occurs to you that this is the first time you're seeing it in the daylight. All of its mediocre glory. The outer walls are a faded yellow, with supporting pillars and railings on the second floor landing which were once white. The doors to the individual rooms are a nice dark green that matches the roofing, but you have to admit they've seen better days. Still, you can feel the potential the old building blooms in your chest.

"Not too bad, hey?" you say to Jimin, who's leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats to peer out the windshield at the place.

He sniffs. "It's no Plaza Hotel."

"You've been?"

"No, I've seen Home Alone 2."

Chuckling, you pull your car key out of the ignition and exit the car. You put your hands on your hips, inhaling a big, exaggerated breath as you take in the motel. Hoseok walks over and stands next to you, arms crossed.

"Well," you say. "It might be a bit of a fixer-upper, but that's nothing a couple of fixer-uppers like us can't handle, right?" You bump your shoulder into Hoseok, who smiles at you and bumps back with his hip. You stumble a bit, but Jimin's hand on your back stops you from swaying too hard. When you take your eyes off your feet, he meets your eyes with a plain expression.

"You guys are disgustingly optimistic."

A hand on his shoulder, you grin. "You just named one of my best traits!"

The move into Heaven's Door is by no means smooth, but you can't say it's not something you expected.

The first thing you notice is the broken window in the convenience store under the motel lobby, which you'd missed that first night in the dark. Hoseok sheepishly admits that he'd had to break in to eat the snack food inside. You don't push it -- that void of time between losing Mr Jung and meeting you isn't a topic you think is worth diving into if it's going to bring Hoseok back to that time. The window won't be cheap, but if you don't put a custom decal on it like the shattered one on the ground, it might not be as expensive.

Secondly, Hoseok leads you and Jimin to the master room you remember Mr Jung mentioning in his letter, and you realize you'd only seen the motel from one side. Behind the lobby, which has a lot of that same forest green as the doors outside, Hoseok shows you the half of the building you had no idea about before. An entire branch extends behind the lobby, about the same length as the front, but instead of the entrances to each room facing outside like the ones you saw before, there are doors mirroring each other on both sides of a hallway. Immediately to the right is the master room, but at the end of the hallway seems to be a common area with couches and coffee tables, and two walls lined with a counter and cabinets. Hoseok tells you it's the same downstairs, except the end of the hall is a kitchen and dining area. It reminds you of a college dorm.

If anyone stayed in the rooms you saw out front, you don't think they'd even notice this half of the building.

The master room is smaller than your apartment, but it has its own half-kitchen and en suite bathroom with a pretty nice shower. Hoseok explains to you that most of Mr Jung's time and focus went into building and upgrading the interior of Heaven's Door, which is why it has its less than shiny exterior.

You can tell Hoseok was staying in the master room up until you... kidnapped(?) him.

"This is probably the nicest room in the motel, huh?" Jimin posits, walking inside with his hands in his pants pockets. He's wearing the clothes he met you in, now washed but no less worn down.

You nod. "Probably. We're a bit far from the city, so it would make sense for the owner to just live here."

"Dibs." Jimin flops down face first into the bed.

Hoseok crosses his arms. "Yah."

As you fail to hide your laughter behind your hand, Jimin squirms in the bed, twisting himself so he lies on his back. He stretches his arms and legs out like a sea star. "Smells too much like dog here, though."

While Hoseok sneers, you say, "Probably because this is Hoseok's room. You and I can take the rooms next door and across the hall."

"Why would I wanna be next door to you?" Jimin closes his eyes and interlocks is fingers behind his head, fully relaxing into the bed.

You let out an affronted scoff. Your hand goes up to your chest, right over your heart even though Jimin can't see it. "Um, my amazing company and charming personality?"

"Pass."

As you and Jimin go through this back-and-forth, you miss the way Hoseok's face fell when you said you'd be in a different room. His disheartened expression goes unnoticed, and when you stand up, proclaiming there's a lot of work to be done, he smiles at you with all the sunshine he can muster.

You're none the wiser.

Aside from the horrors (the mere idea of business management, the building maintenance, the absolute atrocity that is dealing with plumbing, the phone calls, etc, etc,) at least it's fun to print keys. Hoseok apparently never figured the system out because Mr Jung took care of getting it installed, but half an hour on the computer, and you manage to print a key for both yourself and Jimin. He chooses the room across from the master, while you're right next to it.

Hoseok insists on him and Jimin carrying all the food you'd brought inside, but to appease your need to take part, he lets you carry one item for each trip from your car to the common kitchen area. (You find this a little patronizing, but it is admittedly nice to be doted on by them both, even if Jimin's still pretending he doesn't care.)

((He takes a bag you were reaching for, despite already having both his hands full.))

Much of your things are still back at your apartment, but you have time to bring them over. The first day is mostly about getting Hoseok and Jimin out of dodge -- you can worry about your own problems later. You spend the afternoon sitting in the lobby, poring over the paperwork left there and googling motel business 4 dummies like your life depends on it. Hoseok, who'd been cleaning up his room and taking care of the broken glass outside (and inside, unfortunately) the convenience store, forces you to take a break in the form of helping him make dinner.

During dinner, unprompted, Jimin tells you he's still thinking.

It hasn't slipped by you, of course, that Jimin's stay with you is conditional and, lest you hope otherwise, temporary.

But when he says that, staring into his food rather than looking at you, a tiny smile makes it's way onto your face,

"Take all the time you need."

On the third night, you wake up to soft knocks on your door. You have no expectations because your brain is in the process of trying to dissect the dream you'd just been ripped out of, but seeing Hoseok on the other side of your door still isn't something you were prepared for. He's wearing the new, new pyjamas you'd bought for him in a sparse shopping trip you'd all gone on the second day, despite him saying he didn't care that much about Jimin wearing the other ones.

You go to say his name, but he just brings a finger up to his lips in a silent shush, and with his other hand, he gently takes your hand and leads you down the hall into the master room.

Nothing in your body wants to fight it, so you let him bring you right up to the bed. He practically pushes you onto it, but the way he pulls the warm comforter over you defies any ill intent. When he settles in on the other side of the bed, his breath puffs against your cheek. He hasn't really scented you since the day you met Jimin; you've been near each other almost constantly since, so there was really no reason to.

You remember him telling you it's about separation, but also not. He never did tell you more about it.

In your sleep-ridden haze, you shift to your side. Hoseok is on his side too, rather close, and his eyes are closed, but you know he can't have fallen asleep so fast. Gently, you bring a hand to the back of his head, careful, as always, not to touch his dingo ears. You pull him closer ever so slowly. If he resists at all, you'll let go.

Hoseok lets out a shaking breath. He wraps both arms around you and tugs you closer, his face pressing itself against your neck. Eyes still closed, he squeezes you close. It's warm.

That's right, you think.

He’s a strong little pup, but he hates being alone.

How did you manage to forget that?

If Jimin has anything to say about the fact that you've started to retire to the master room at the end of the day, he doesn't vocalize it. Hoseok never brings it up, either. He's hardly touchy during the daytime, keeping his hands to himself, especially in front of Jimin. Yet, when night comes, he pulls you to bed like he's done it his entire life and keeps his arms around you until you fall asleep and wake up to find him all tangled up in the sheets.

Jimin either hasn't noticed, or, as you suspect, he doesn't care.

He'll often say he's "still thinking about it". You're not quite sure how to respond to it every time, so now you just smile and nod, sometimes reminding him that the choice is still his.

One night, you find him in the common area, sitting on a couch and watching a muted cartoon on the tv you'd connected to your Netflix account the day before. The subtitles aren't even on, and when he turns at the sound of your footsteps, you see the red of his eyes, and the shining tracks on his cheeks.

There's still a lot you don't know about Jimin.

Rayoung. Her boyfriend. His red contacts and why he wore them.

"It's freezing in here," is all he says as he wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. "You should get the heating system checked."

You sit down next to him, neither of you looking at each other. "Feels normal to me."

The cartoon isn't one you recognize, but it looks like it could be fun if you knew what anyone was saying.

For a while, you and Jimin say nothing. He sits next to you, and you next to him. At some point, he shifts just the slightest bit closer so your shoulders brush against each other. That's as far as he goes for your body heat.

"Do you get cold easily?" you eventually whisper.

"Mhmm."

"Is that a snake thing?"

Jimin shakes his head, slowly, the late hour finally getting to him. "Some reptile hybrids are like that, some aren't. There aren't many of us, so people don't really know why. At least... that's what he told me."

He. You decide not to dig into that. Jimin will tell you if he wants to.

"Your scales... the skin around them seemed irritated."

"...Itchy..." Jimin's head falls to your shoulder. He doesn't snuggle in, but he rests there. "I had a cream for it..."

"We should buy some," you say.

"It's expensive... You shouldn't buy it if I'm going to leave soon..."

Though his words cause a muted ache in your heart, you don't stew on it. That was always the case.

"You can take it with you."

Jimin doesn't respond, asleep on your shoulder.

You're not sure how much time passes, but later, you hear light, shuffling footsteps behind you, and you turn your head towards the sound, careful not to jostle the slumbering Jimin on your shoulder. Hoseok stands there, eyes half closed but on you nonetheless.

"You left," he mumbles, swaying slightly like he's struggling to stay both awake and upright.

You give him a small smile, lit only by the tv that's still playing that cartoon you don't know the name of. "I didn't go very far."

"Come back to bed?"

Gently, you lift a hand and gesture at Jimin. "Can we bring him back to his, first?"

When you're sent the invoice for the window repair, you realize (not for the first time) this won't be easy.

You didn't think it'd be a walk in the park, of course not, but you've never really had to worry about the cost of running a business before. Now, you look at the numbers, and you just can't wrap your head around how it'll all work. Mr Jung left you a considerable amount, yes, but... will it be enough? You can't imagine the motel is in any high level of traffic area for travellers. There are quite a few campsites around in the surrounding forest, but that's about it. How many customers would it take monthly to support the motel? How much has to or even can be sacrificed before any income is made?

You've already spent so much on keeping you, Hoseok, and Jimin alive and warm for the past week. It's normal, you suppose, but you've never supported two dependants before, and the fact that you're currently unemployed doesn't settle the heavy feeling in your chest at all. You're draining your savings while not making any money in the meantime.

A safe haven for hybrids...

...who can't pay rent.

Maybe Mr Jung was older and more senile than you thought.

You shake your head and rub your hands over your face, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. First, you gotta apologize to Mr Jung for disrespecting the dead. You might be cynical, but he had a dream. A really good and nice dream. Secondly, you scold yourself for thinking what you did about hybrids. Of course they can't pay rent. They were born into a system that actively discourages their financial (and pretty much every other kind of) autonomy. They can't pay for anything because of humans.

Still, you don't know how long you can keep running Heaven's Door on your inheritance alone. You haven't even opened yet -- how much will it cost to run for a month? Three? A year?

"Do the numbers change if you sigh hard enough?"

You turn in your swivel chair to glare at Jimin, who's sitting in the chair next to you with one leg folded up to his chest, foot propped up on the seat. He doesn't return your gaze, enraptured by the match-three game he's playing on your phone, which he's been going at rather consistently for the past two days. You don't really have a job for him right now, and aside from the tv, he doesn't have much to take up his time. You'd offered to grab the contents of your bookshelf back at home for him, but he'd casually refused, telling you he'd take a look next time you make the trip, but not to go out of your way.

"Maybe they will," you taunt back, which goes just as ignored as your glare. "I better sigh harder to test it out."

You tilt your head, looking at your phone in his hand. "Should I get you guys phones...?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Jimin's eyes glance up, and he finally acknowledges you. He doesn't need to say it. He does anyway.

"I'm still thinking."

Curling your lips in, you nod, turning back to the computer and hovering your hands over the mouse and keyboard even though you have no plans on what to do with them. "Right. Right..."

Thankfully, Hoseok chooses that awkward moment to walk into the lobby. "You should take a break," he says. "How is your head feeling?"

"It's fine, doc." You roll your eyes, smiling. "Just as fine as I said it was yesterday."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

You shake your head. "The doctor said they're for headaches. They're just painkillers -- the few times my head has hurt, the pain went away by the time I remembered I could take them."

Jimin lowers your phone and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. It's not positive; you know that at least. "You're still getting headaches?"

"Only itty-bitty ones," you try to placate them.

"How long has it been since you fell?"

You almost forgot you lied to Jimin about how you got your concussion. By the looks of Hoseok's guilty expression, though, you're not sure if you regret it. You don't want him to feel responsible, but talking about it -- whether or not Jimin knows -- still seems to remind him of what he did. Where you put the blame doesn't matter to him. He still thinks it's his fault.

"Uhh... a little over a week?" you answer, keeping a careful eye on Hoseok. "Maybe eight or nine days."

Jimin frowns. "That can't be good, right?"

"The doctor said to go back to the hospital if the symptoms last over two weeks." Concern laced in his features, Hoseok crosses his arms.

You nod along. "I'll put the date on my calendar, okay? I'm sure I'll be fine by then."

"You better not play it down when the time comes," Hoseok warns.

"Yes sir," you joke.

Hoseok takes in a sharp breath, shoulders scrunching up for half a second before he forces them to relax. A small huff of a laugh escapes Jimin's nose, and you look at him in confusion, but his eyes are on Hoseok, something playful and teasing in them. Jimin mouths something to Hoseok, which you can't read.

Hoseok grumbles and tightens the arms crossed in front of him. "Shut up."

"No fair," you whine. "You guys already have inside jokes?"

Jimin just laughs harder while Hoseok gives him a death glare and says, "It doesn't count as an inside joke if I don't find it funny."

"Don't worry," Jimin teases through a smirk. "I find it funny enough for the both of us!"

You can't help but smile at the ever-growing amity between the two hybrids, which is admittedly playful in the biting way, but it still makes you happy that they're somewhat getting along.

"We should celebrate," you tell the boys one day.

"Celebrate what?" Jimin questions, hands stuffed in his coat pocket and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You'd gone around the back of the motel and found a paved, patio-like area, complete with five wooden picnic tables, propane patio heaters, and an old-looking but (probably) functional barbecue, but Jimin isn't exactly a fan of the cool breeze flowing through the air.

You lift the lid of the barbecue, examining the charred grates of the grill. "Well, I dunno, but it'd be a shame not to use this before it gets too cold out."

"Too late," Jimin mumbles. His lips are hidden behind the front of his coat, which he's ducked half his face into.

Hoseok ignores Jimin, nodding at your idea. "A barbecue night would be nice."

"How are you on the grill?" you ask him.

"I'm better at prepping."

You chuckle. "So basically, not good?"

"Not good," he echoes with a smile.

After sharing some giggles, you look at the barbecue again. "I'm sure I could figure this out."

"I'm going back inside," Jimin tells you both, already walking away.

"C'mon!" you call after him. "It'll be fun!"

Although you're in a different store now, near the edge of the city closer to the motel, the pet/hybrid aisle hosts a pretty similar collection to the store near your apartment. You pull another plain, black collar off the hook on the shelf, which matches the one currently sitting around Hoseok's neck.

He's not paying attention at all, as far as you know, instead hunched over the pushbar of the shopping cart he insisted on pushing for you, poring over the grocery list you'd written on a memo pad for tonight's "celebration".

In your mind, you've started calling it your "new friends party :D", emoticon included, but you haven't worded that out loud to either of the boys. Hoseok would surely laugh at the childishness of the name, even if he'd politely try to stifle it, and you know Jimin would only remind you that his relationship to you and Hoseok is temporary.

Mood killer, you think to Jimin, although it's the hypothetical version of him.

The real Jimin is looking at the array of collars on the shelf like you asked him to, and you step up next to him.

"What do you think?"

Jimin frowns, deep in thought. "They're all ugly."

Okay, maybe not that deep.

"Ouch," you chuckle, fingers toying with the black silk in your hand. "You don't have to wear one all the time -- just while we're in public spaces like this."

Grumbling, Jimin stuffs both his hands in his coat pockets. "In public... that's when I wanna look good."

"Okay, okay." You pat a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we can find one you like online, or something."

"Doesn't this one work?" Jimin points at his neck, fingers ghosting over the soft velvet of your red choker.

You tilt your head. "I guess... Probably."

The tags for collars have to be bought and customized separately anyway. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to put Jimin's on your choker, though attaching the tag might not be as simple as the store-bought collars. Manageable, though, you're sure.

"If you're done being picky, we should get going. The frozen meat will be rotten by the time we get to the car," Hoseok says, making Jimin roll his eyes and stick his tongue out at him.

You clap your hands together. "Ooh! We should get ice cream!"

When you bring all the groceries to the counter, you notice that Jimin keeps his head down, avoiding the eyes of the person ringing everything up. This isn't new -- Jimin seems to not like making eye contact with anyone but you or Hoseok.

He'd tossed the red contacts after one of them had an intimate meet and greet with your bedroom floor, but you can tell he doesn't like being without them. It's awful, you think, how long he wore those fake red eyes just because his owner... what, enjoyed the idea of owning a deadly hybrid?

The... exoticism?

You shiver.

On the cusp of winter time, with Jimin in a couple layers, you wouldn't even know he's a hybrid if you weren't paying attention. As far as you know, his only hybrid-defining trait is his scales, and the only ones you can see right now are on his neck. They'd easily go unnoticed to the everyday passerby.

"Your total is--"

The cashier's voice startles you, and all you can do is shake your head when they ask if you have their points reward card.

Before heading back to the motel, you make a quick stop at your apartment, telling the boys that you're just grabbing some more of your clothes and that they can wait in the car. You do grab some clothes, but you also pick up a few of your favourite books. Hopefully the boys will be able to find some entertainment in them. Recently, you discovered a recreation room in the motel, complete with a couple of exercise machines and a pool table. With how preoccupied you are with all this motel business stuff, though, you haven't had the time to play a round of pool or even think about exercising. Maybe the boys have been in there, but it seems like Hoseok is almost always somewhere around you, still weary of your condition.

It's sort of fair, you think. Dizzy spells still hit you sometimes.

Jimin, too, often sticks around somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because he likes scrolling through your phone and doesn't want to just take it and leave whatever room you're in.

Which brings you to the real reason you stopped by your apartment. You walk up to the mailboxes and pull out your key, smiling when you open your locker and find the packages you were expecting.

It's a bit of a pricey expense -- at least, for how you used to budget your life before it flipped on its head -- but you think it's worth the money. A simple phone for each of the boys, a new family plan to save on the phone bills, and a specialty reptilian hybrid eczema cream. You hope it's the right one for Jimin. You haven't seen his irritated skin since that shower due to the chilly weather, but you still catch him scratching his arms over his clothes from time to time.

You're sure if you told Jimin you wanted to buy the cream for him, he would've refused. The phone, too.

"Took you long enough," Jimin says when you dip back into the driver's seat of your car.

You chuckle. "I missed you too, Mochi."

He huffs at the nickname and crosses his arms, then turns his head to stare out the window. You don't see his faint smile.

"It's freezing," Jimin complains through chattering teeth, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders scrunched up practically to his ears.

You can't hold back a little laugh. "I told you, you could either help me out here with the grill, help Hoseok with prepping everything inside, or run the raw food from the kitchen to out here." Raising an eyebrow at him, you gesture towards your gloved hands and the food you're flipping on the grill with metal tongs. It is chilly out, especially since the sun set, but you're wrapped up in your own jacket, and the fire from the grill is keeping your cheeks warm. It probably feels colder to Jimin, though. "You wanna trade with me?"

He gives you a flat look. "You're kidding."

"Thought so. You wanna trade with Hoseok?"

Cringing, Jimin shakes his head. "I hate touching raw meat."

"Well, there's our answer then," you say. "Was that the last of it?"

He nods, another shiver rippling through him. It's almost endearing how red his cheeks are turning, but you know he really can't stand the cold.

"Okay, go inside and warm up. I should be done cooking everything in ten or fifteen minutes. Bring this plate in--" You point at a foil-wrapped plate of the food you've already cooked. "I can bring the rest inside once I'm finished."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly. "I thought you wanted to eat out here?" He looks at one of the picnic tables.

"Nah." You shrug. "It's way too cold for me, and the food will cool down too fast."

Elated by this news, Jimin smiles and bounces on his feet when he grabs the plate and runs it inside.

"And help Hoseok clean up the kitchen!" you yell out right before the door shuts behind him.

Truthfully, you did want to eat outside for the celebration, but it's more important to you that Jimin is comfortable and happy. After all, he's one of your new friends, and that's the whole point of tonight. You smile at the thought, excited to gift the boys their new cell phones after dinner.

Flipping some of the last pieces of meat on the grill, you hum to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand reach for the plate you have set to the side for the cooked food. It tentatively grabs one of the slices of meat and pulls it off the plate, which you let out a chuckle at.

"What, you couldn't wait a couple more minute--"

You choke to a stop, though, when you look up and see neither Hoseok nor Jimin.

Dark eyes meet yours for less than a moment before swiftly turning downward. The man stumbles back a step, but he freezes in almost the same way you do. Except, instead of his jaw dropping open like yours does, he pauses mid-chew, the frisked meat still in between his teeth.

That's not what makes your breath hitch, though.

Even under the blackened sky, you can see the bruises.

A dark, deep purple sits boldly under is left eye, the surrounding skin a sickening blend of yellow and green that winds up all the way to his brow. His chin sports another bruise in a similar state, like the blows had been a couple days ago and the skin has gone through only the first stages of healing. Although his face is grimy with sweat and dirt, you can see crusted blood just at his hairline before his black hair hides anything else. You can tell his lip was completely busted at some point, marred with dark, dried blood that's been split over and over again and given no chance to heal.

Even his stance looks like he's in pain. Like he's trying to make himself look smaller.

You swallow the shock down, the words not coming out. "I..."

He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice. Both of his hands shoot up, palms flat and facing you. "Sorry-- I'm sorry," he mumbles and winces, like it hurts to speak. His voice is scratchy and rasping.

He backs up further while you try to find something to say, something to do, but before you can do anything, he runs off the patio and disappears into the treeline, a clear limp in his movement.

"Wait!" you call out, but he's gone.

Maybe it was the injuries that made you want to go after him. Maybe it was the way he held himself, like he didn't want to be in his own body. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled, or the fact that he definitely wasn't wearing enough for the temperature outside.

Maybe it was all that combined, but most of all, it was the pointed black ears you saw on top of his head.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

534 notes · View notes

unicorncornflakes · 10 months

Text

Little One - Story AU! | Chapter 6

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Paring: Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: You are the only daughter of Jacaerys Velaryon, future lord of the tides. After the victory of Aegon and his side in the war, your family suffers the rejection in Driftmark. There you must always give an account to the king's new hand, Aemond Targaryen. However, when the time comes, Aegon and his court claim you as Queen Helaena's lady-in-waiting. As a new piece of the Greens' strategy to coerce your father, you are taken to King's Landing to begin your life in high society. Aemond will be, much to his pleasure, in charge of guiding you in this new stage.

Tags: Alternate Universe/ Enemies to Lovers/ Emotional Hurt/Comfort Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st, at some points.

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @qyburnsghost @croatianprincess @hopeless-addiction-love

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader, for all the patience and the love that always shows for my writing. Thank you so much :D

Word Count: 4K

"What is happening now?" Aemond arrived in Aegon's chambers with a distressed expression, asking what was going on. It was the morning of the tournament and his name's day festivities, and he should have already been dressed. He took a deep breath as he observed the scene before him.

Aegon was pale, bleeding from the same place where he had been drained the day before. A girl twisted and contorted on the floor, nearly suffocated by a sheet wrapped around her neck. She had had to squirm and constrict until she struck him hard in the ribs, reopening the King's still unhealed wound. All the maesters crowded around Aegon's bed, trying to stem the bleeding. However, the girl, who as always was just a poor Silk Street whore, writhed on the ground. She was about to die, eyes glassy and gasping for air.

The girl's vision of darkened without her eyes closing; she knew that she was going to die and that she had been the one who had screamed for her help before Aegon strangled her. However, none of those who had entered the King's chambers had assisted her. She had watched in disbelief, lying on the ground, drowning, as everyone ran to the King's aid. She thought, at that moment, that the last thing she would see would be the boots of the King's hand approaching her, but it was not like that. Aemond, with what little mercy he had left, loosened the sheet around her neck. The girl sucked in a strong breath. Her mouth opened for air like a fish for water after being thrown back after being caught. The girl gasped and cried against the ground. Aemond closed his eye in disapproval. That was all the war had accomplished, unleashing an insatiable monster that no one knew existed - the true story behind the crown.

"Prepare him for the tournament. Now." Aemond ordered as the girl tried to keep breathing. The girl coughed up a mixture of blood and bile that disgusted Aemond. However, he noticed something that he had not noticed before. On that occasion, the girl Aegon had chosen for the night was quite like you, same eye colour, same hair, and same complexion. Aemond's gaze froze upon realizing that detail, and he looked at his brother, who was moaning in terrible pain. He smiled at Aemond with teeth stained by his own blood.

“It feels warmer if you choke them while fucking. Everything is in the strength with which you take their breath away," the King confessed with a macabre smile, and Aemond couldn't take it anymore. As always, the whole situation was beyond him. He approached the bed where the masters attendedAegon, and without saying a word, he held his older brother by the neck and squeezed hard.

"Does it feel good?" he asked him as he squeezed hard with one hand, encompassing the entire neck of his brother. He cocked his head to ask again, "Do you like it?" he asked him in an almost macabre way. No one stopped him, not even the teachers. Everyone in that room would always let the King's hand do whatever he wanted. But, Aemond had only gone mad at the thought that you could be the recipient of those attentions from his brother.

Aegon began to smile, almost believing that Aemond would end his suffering that day, was ridiculous on the same day as his name day was being celebrated. But his brother sneered and smiled. "Can't you finish what you've started, little brother? Can't you kill me like you did Lucerys?" Aegon spat it out through phlegm and blood, and Aemond looked away.

"Dress him and prepare him. Give him the milk of the poppy," the one-eyed man ordered him as he left his brother's room. He would never get over being Lucerys' killer. He would never forgive himself for being guilty of a sin for which he had no forgiveness.

"My granddaughter is not going to go looking like a whore to that tournament" Corlys was sitting in his new quarters in the Red Keep. Having reaccepted the position of naval adviser, Aemond had ordered comfortable rooms to be prepared for him, overlooking the gardens of the fortress, from where he could even see the sea, the great and true love of his life. The tailor watched him as he tried to fit you into the dress Aemond had ordered for you. The poor little man looked fearfully at the King's new adviser.

“But, the hand of the King has commanded…" he began to say, but Corlys cut him off quickly. Anyone could smell the tailor's fear of Aemond, like all the servants in the Red Keep, almost half the nobles of the seven kingdoms, and most of the people of Westeros. No one dared to contradict him in anything.

"He can dress his niece as a girl from the Street of Silk", Corlys said. "You can leave my granddaughter alone. She is going to wear the colours of her house", he explained to the man, who was now moving nervously, taking the dress from one side of that room to the other. You looked at your grandfather with relief, and he smiled reassuringly at you.

"But you don't know how the hand is, my lord" The tailor tried to reason with him again, and Corlys didn't even look at him anymore. He only took another sip from his glass again, ending the discussion. The man withdrew, and only when the two of you were alone did your grandfather speak frankly.

"I always knew that the one-eyed dragon was attracted to you," he said without any kind of affection towards Aemond, and you sat next to him, ready to continue with your breakfast. Now calmer knowing that you would not wear that dress that exposed your entire body. "Has he tried anything with you?" Your grandfather went straight to the point, and you blushed, grabbing the skirt of your dress nervously and anxiously.

"No", you lied to him. You were lying to your grandfather's face; why were you doing it? You were really doing it because a small part of you had enjoyed it. It had been your first kiss. Your first kiss…and you didn't want it to be clouded by the fact that it had been with one of your father's enemies, if not the greatest of them all, the murderer of his brother, Lucerys.

Your grandfather almost appeared to detect your lie, but he just sighed as he continued eating his breakfast. He blamed your reaction on your nerves because of what had just happened a few seconds ago between him and the tailor—that pointless discussion. Aemond might be the hand of the King, but he was your grandfather and the lord of Driftmark. He wasn't going to let half the kingdom see you in your underwear at the most important celebration of the year, at the King's birthday. "Thanks for the dress", you whispered to him sadly, and your grandfather stopped the bite of pheasant that he was going to take to his mouth. He was the one who had been in charge of telling you the night before that your little brother had passed away, and you had cried bitterly until you ran out of tears. Yet you felt guilty. You yourself had thought that it would be better if he had died. Then it would stop being another noose around your father's neck. Your grandfather could understand why you were sad. You were just another victim of his machinations, yet Corlys intended you to be a vital part of his new plan.

“You are my granddaughter, (Y/N)” His hand caressed yours that was on the table and gave it a little squeeze that made you smile shyly. "Last night, you had dinner with the princess, right?" he asked you as he turned his attention back to his food.

“Yes, I think she likes me, and the queen does too. Helaena, not to the Queen Mother," you said quickly, correcting any doubts there might be. You couldn't stand the way Alicent looked at you, as if you were an empty meat bag that her middle son wanted to stick his dick in. She must have looked at the witch just like that, you'd heard she had been Aemond's lover for many years way back.

"I don't think Alicent could like anyone", your grandfather explained to you, looking out the balcony of his new quarters. After a silence that seemed like an eternity, he spoke again, "I don't understand what Aemond wants from you; well, I do understand what he wants; what I don't understand is that if he can have any woman in Westeros, why is it with you whom he has such a…marked obsession," commented your grandfather, almost reflecting to himself. And you looked at the ground, not knowing what to answer. You didn't know what to tell him because you didn't know the answer to those questions either. You had never exchanged more than a word in Driftmark, and Aemond had always watched you in almost stoic silence. "Have you bled since you've been here?" he asked you sincerely, worried about what might be going through any of the Targaryen’s' heads now that you were a woman.

"Once, but... the woman they put into helping me covered for me," you told him innocently and sweetly, and Corlys could only shake his head.

“(Y/N), we told you not to trust anyone. Surely Aemond already knows it,"he said, slightly annoyed, although he was not annoyed with you. He was just mad at Jace for wanting to keep you safe from knowledge. And you turned pale. The truth was that the prince had kissed you the same night that your lunar blood had started, and it was Mistra who had brought you there. You wanted to cry. You were a stupid girl.

"Grandpa, when… when are we going back to Driftmark?" you asked him, full of fear to know the answer that scared you in the bottom of your heart. Corlys returned from his thoughts and musings to the real world. He looked at you with concern as if you really didn't understand the reason why you had been brought here.

"I don't think you're going to come back", he confessed to you in a slow tone of voice, and he tried not to show the pain that it caused him to think that you would be sold to the highest bidder. Women were always treated like merchandise. The question in your case was which side you were going to be better sold: the greens or the blacks. There were no other options in a kingdom where there were fewer and fewer supporters of your father's cause, thanks to the brilliant and Machiavellian management of the King's hand.

"Long live the king!" shouted one of the tournament attendees. One of the many commoners who attended jousting on Aemond's orders. It was important to give the people entertainment, as well as to give them food so that no one would complain, no one would complain, no one would riot. "Long live the king". "Praise Aegon" were another of the many shouts that were heard there. All those screams of joy and happiness. All this praise for Aegon as he went up to his box to watch the jousting was Aemond's doing. Everything in that kingdom, all that good management and good work, was thanks to the most feared and hated of all the children of Alicent.

Aemond would never receive such praise. He was just a murderer in the people’s eyes. monster for the lords of the Realm. He was an outcast amongst his own family. All the curse that fell on his family was his fault. This was only his fault alone.

Aegon finished going up to the box, leading Helaena by the hand, who was also receiving praise from his subjects. They and their perfect image were the product of Aemond. The princess followed, clad in white, almost to emphasize the purity of a girl Aemond suspected she had long ago ceased to be pure thanks to Daeron, but he would not be the one to say anything. He only wanted Helaena to give birth to a boy. That day he could dispose of Aegon just fine. Continue to control the kingdom in the shadows and continue his quiet life as the hand of the King, without murdered girls or sick problems stemming from Aegon's life of excess.

Immediately afterwards, he also climbed the wooden steps that led to the box. The praises, the shouts, the revelry, and the party did not stop. But, the one-eyed man knew that none was directed towards him. Helaena sat next to her husband. The efforts of the maids the previous days had paid off—a true image of winners. Helaena also dressed in white, almost immaculate, Aegon wearing his crown, Aegon the Conqueror's crown, tightly puckered on his head. Achievers. That was what they reflected to all those who did not enter the Red Keep and see his miserable life. In the last row of that box, only two seats for the King and Queen. Aemond sat in the second row next to his 'niece'. The rest of the guests at that privileged view would not take long to arrive, but at least they had already set up the little theatre with the kings, and it had gone well. No Aegon falling over in a drunken state and no Helaena moaning or shrieking in pain. 'Everyone in the Red Keep is a puppet, and the hand is the main puppeteer,' he had had the maiden who said it flogged, but now, as the other lords sat around him and eyed him in judgment, Aemond knew that girl had been right. He hated being hated, but he was used to it. His life would always be like this.

He contemplated in silence as the other councilors arrived to sit in that special place. Their families accompanied all of them. He saw Larys's daughter, who blushed and greeted him silently with a smile as he arrived at the scene. She was smaller than you, and she was lame, but she knew full well that her father wanted to marry her to him. And the problem wasn't her handicap; Aemond would never judge anyone for that. The problem was she was the daughter of Maris Baratheon, and he'd rather have his balls cut off than marry the daughter of such a monster. Besides, that girl wasn't you.

The one-eyed man looked away from the girl almost with contempt, and Maris's face twisted at the gesture of the King's hand. She chided her daughter in a whisper that she should have worn something that showed more flesh. Everyone had heard of the whore's dress that Aemond had prepared for you for that special day.

He couldn't wait to see her so well dressed that day, according to his criteria, of course. He would make you walk around with a harlot, but by doing so, he would also send a message: You were only going to pay for the sins of the fathers, and he would shame you as he offered you like a piece of meat to the highest bidder. And meanwhile, he would enjoy you, although he would never admit it. Still, it was something to be seen from miles away. He thought he was cold as an iceberg in your presence. The problem was that he would never be one, and everyone could see how he jumped when he saw you arrive on your grandfather's arm. Aemond settled into the seat and folded his legs, almost as if trying to avoid showing the erection he had just had from seeing how you had defied him and dressed in the colours of your house. He cleared his throat and didn’t see Larys's daughter's gaze go dull at that. However, the girl did.

You looked beautiful, well-groomed, radiant and on the arm of your grandfather Corlys, who greeted the others present with a wide smile. Turquoise and black. Those were your colours, and with that, your grandfather sent a message to the hand of the King. You didn't think of giving up. You didn’t break. You were still at a point where all was not lost. But, Aemond did not think of that. He only thought about how beautiful you looked and how much he would have liked to take that dress off you later, just the two of you, in his chambers. He was living in a fantasy that he thought you were attracted to him, the same way he was attracted to you. And perhaps, when he saw the sidelong glance you gave him as you sat down next to him, he thought he was right.

"I suppose you are disappointed not to see her dressed as a whore, Lord Hand", Corlys whispered in his ear just as he sat down next to you. You between the two men, almost like a barrier between Aemond and your grandfather. The first would have killed the second if he could, but you were in between. Corlys's words were more than true. And Aemond felt them as if they were a knife going through his entrails; what was wrong with you? Why did you charm him so much? Head held high and well groomed, you smiled at your grandfather as you waited for the tournament participants to show up for the introduction. You seemed happier, and Aemond could see the shadow of the dark circles that were under your eyes. You should have mourned your brother's death, but to the one-eyed man, it was just another collateral damage. Another casualty of the war. Still, you looked beautiful and radiant. Jaehaera approached you and took your hand, leading you to the box balcony to see the participants. Aemond watched in disgust as Aegon paid more attention to you than he should have, and his stomach churned at the thought of the whore who looked just like you. She was lying on the ground, almost suffocated. "I appreciate you finding her such a...stunning dress, but (Y/N) she has to look like what she is: a lady." Corlys leaned back in his seat, casting a bored look over the lists. Aemond stayed upright in his seat, though this time, he clenched his fist, trying to contain the anger that coursed through him at that moment.

"It was something I ordered, Lord Corlys," he said gruffly, glaring at him with cold fury. It almost went right through him with his violet eye right there. But at that moment, Aemond seemed to relax, just as you looked at your grandfather with a leaning smile from the balcony as the jousting participants were introduced. Corlys watched in amazement as Aemond turned his gaze straight ahead to gaze at you. Jaehaera pointed at something, and you looked back at the tournament participants, who were starting to get ready to introduce themselves. All sons, knights and lords of great houses. Aemond thought that you were beautiful, young, and deserving of anything but the attention of anyone on the green side.

At that moment, Daeron entered the fray with a perfect white horse, well groomed and nourished. An animal without comparison. He greeted everyone present but stopped long and hard to look at Jaehaera. She turned her face away. She is still visibly angry with him. "Men don't understand us," she said gruffly in a whisper, and you looked back, only to watch as Aemond silently savoured you, even if you weren't wearing his dress.

"I ask the favour of Princess Jaehaera. If I win, she will be the queen of love and beauty," Daeron declared, and Jaehaera rolled her eyes with a smile. That's when you knew she wouldn't be angry with him all her life. She could never be angry with him for more than a week, though this time, the outrage had been greater than usual. She smiled at you again and nodded for you to follow her. Just as you were about to obey, a young Dornish knight rebuked you.

"Hey girl, what's your name?" a boy who must have been a couple of years older than you asked with a firm voice and a white-toothed smile. Her brown skin and black hair contrasted with the white of his teeth and the blue of his eyes. He was quite an attractive boy, and you blushed. A shade of pink was on your cheeks. You looked at him quite impressed. Not only was he attractive, but he also smiled at you. He was smiling frankly.

"(Y/N) Velaryon", the daughter of Larys answered behind you, approaching you two who, until that moment, had not left the balustrade. The three of you leaned against the balustrade, but the Knight of Dorne seemed to have eyes only for you.

"I'm glad to know it," replied the boy, who spurred his horse and withdrew with the other participants. His black horse raised a great smoke. Larys's daughter laughed, and Jaehaera broke into a smile. You seemed to be the only one who didn't know what was going on.

"How daring!" sighed Mariam, Larys's daughter. “Had to be from Dorne”

"I think he is a Gargalen", the princess commented. "A basilisk gules with a saber serpent in its beak on a field of gold. He is a Gargalen ", answered the princess, who, at Aemond's insistence, knew all the heraldry of the seven kingdoms. She said it herself in her usual tone of voice that – it almost sounded like a whisper. You ignored them and went back to sit next to your grandfather. You glanced sideways at Aemond, who seemed almost annoyed at the attention you'd received from a boy your age.

You sat down almost in an automaton movement and raised your face again; you almost looked like an imperturbable statue, but the worst thing was that you felt like you were betraying Aemond. What was happening to you? You were nothing. You would never be anything. And yet, you had returned to his side as that boy had greeted you, almost as if you had been unfaithful.

"The Gargalens are originally from Salt Shore. They have some exquisite beaches where perhaps you would swim again as before" Your grandfather smiled at you knowingly, almost as if he were beginning to weave the first threads of his plan to end the greens or at least to better position himself in the new court. That hadn't been decided yet. You looked at him incredulous. And he winked at you as he took a small sip from his glass of wine. You laughed softly, almost as if you were back in Driftmark. Maybe that boy from Dorne wasn't such a bad idea.

"The Dornishmen do not know what fidelity is. Do you want to lead your granddaughter to an unhappy life? Full of jealousy and debauchery?" Aemond interrupted, bored and annoyed by the conversation you were having. "Is that what you want, little one?" he asked you without even looking at you, just wetting his lips in his glass. And Corlys smirked. Aemond was just as easily manipulated as all men. He felt jealous like the rest of the mortals.

Your grandfather didn't even answer. Aegon jumped up and wished luck to all the participants; he wished peace and glory to all the houses. He gave a well-calculated welcome to all present. A perfectly well prepared speech. It was all the product of Aemond. All that show. Always in the shadows. All those whoops of joy were his, but as always, he would enjoy them in the second row. Never at first, much to his regret.

That tournament would last several days. Too many participants and Aemond noted that this was the last year he would invite the Gargalens. He wanted to ask what fight that boy would be in. He must have been a knight for a short time. He was too young, almost your age, and he felt threatened. He thought for a moment that he was ridiculous, that he wasn't your nothing. And yet he wanted to be your everything. However, he remained tense throughout that day of the tournament. He wasn't going to let any Dornishman get their hands on you,and your grandfather took note of everything that happened. It was just one part of a larger plan that was being turned against the King's hand.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine

128 notes · View notes

becomingbts · 2 years

Text

[TEASER] Time heals (sometimes) - 14

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights, the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she had believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

Genre: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series, NSFW.

Should be around 4k maybe 5? Depends on the editing

So yup, be ready : 23 RD JANUARY

I know it took FOREVER AND I’M SO SORRY, It’s just, I don’t know how to explain, it wasn’t an easy chapter to me! It’s one of the empty place in my mind, like I have a bunch of scenes ready but they’re not all tied together and this chapter was one of the missing spaces, and it was SO HARD to fill it somehow! I kept on re-writing it, so I hope you’ll like it in the end ! It will come out next Sunday! To thank you for your patience, here comes a teaser uwu Take care everyone, see you next weekend !

“How did she even convince you all? Like, I get it for the medical bond part, even if… A lot of it doesn’t make any sense to me for me, but like… How did it even happen without? How did Taehyung even believe she was me? Because If I get it straight, she got you guys the bracelets only the next day, so how… How did it even happen?” Jungkook winced lightly, trying not to be too obvious. He couldn’t feel an accusatory tone in (Y/N)’s voice, he rather heard disbelief, yet it did nothing to soothe his own panic. Her confusion only made sense. Some of the things that happened still made no sense to him.

“Taehyung… never really explained what happened to us. Once the comedy was over, Taehyung just disappeared, he became like a shell of himself because he felt like everything was his fault. The very reason she came to us pretending to be our last soulmate was him. She claimed to love him and to want only him; I think it really hit him since he was the one to bring her home and tell us to trust him.” (Y/N) noted the cautiousness that Jungkook used as he worded his sentence and didn’t use her name. He chose to address her as if she had been a side character, someone in the background as if she hadn’t destroyed their lives and their futures, “it was kind of hard to get him out of his mind, sometimes it still feels like he’s in there, by himself. I’m sure he still thinks everything is his fault. I know he doesn’t fully believe us when we tell him that he couldn’t prevent it more than we could… I think the only thing he told me was that she had been going to some of his seminars yet he had never paid attention to her before she saw his tattoos and showed him hers that were exactly matching.”

“She got them tattooed?” She frowned ever so slightly.

“I think so. I never got around to asking, I must admit that once the fake bond was broken, anything that had, even remotely, a link to her disgusted me. I couldn’t… believe everything that had happened, the simple mention of her or the fake bond made me physically ill.” It made sense, (Y/N) thought. His answer didn’t really help her put all the pieces of the puzzle together, but she could understand that, at least. She would have probably done the same thing. If she were to be honest with herself, she already had, in a way; shutting them off had been her best option to survive. So even if she didn’t understand everything that she had read in Jimin’s diary, she could only nod at his words because she got what he meant by that. However, it didn’t mean that she would stay quiet about the rest of the story either.

“But you really didn’t question the whole thing before? One of your so-called soulmates starts hitting some of your mates, and you didn’t think that maybe something was wrong?” Her voice picked up, and even she was surprised at the intensity of her growing anger. It surprised her to feel that her anger wasn’t really directed at him, as someone who abandoned her before knowing her, but she realized that she was angry about Yoongi being hurt. (Y/N) couldn’t imagine what he went through, and despite everything he did, she didn’t think any of it warranted for him to be hurt so much. (Y/N) didn’t want to feel concerned, she truly didn’t. Yet, a little pang in her heart still resonated because shit, it must have been awful. She shouldn’t feel bad; she had every reason to be mad at them, yet Jungkook’s trembling lips and lost gaze made her breath out and try to think about the issue differently. If she wanted answers about what happened with Yongsun, she would need to be slightly more considerate. She might resent them for everything that happened between them, but she acknowledged that what happened had been traumatic to them. She probably could be an asshole and force him to talk, but she wouldn’t.

“Sorry, that was… A bit unfair of me to say.”

COMING : JANUARY 23RD !

#time heals 14 teaser

46 notes · View notes

troquantary · 3 years

Text

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #edward cullen #i stared too long and the twilight abyss gazed back #long post #major credit due to therealvinelle for having basically all the ideas already #theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin too since they agree and build off each other's metas a lot #idk how people who write meta can just crank these posts out i've been here for two hours #edited to add stuff i forgot to mention about edward's disproportionately violent fantasies

314 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other.

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon.

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand.

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend.

“ I’m fine. “

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead.

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “

“ ‘s not that bad. “

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book.

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement.

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit.

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in.

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face.

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “

“ Huh? “

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear.

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief.

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle.

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Not really. “

“ Ah, what a shame.”

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.”

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.”

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.”

“ Huh. “

“ Mmmh.”

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “

“ Are you ?”

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky.

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “

“ Ran where? “

“ Away. “

“ Away as in you left. “

“ Mm-mmh”

“ Just like that? “

“ Yup. “

“ Why? “

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place.

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.”

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?”

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy.

“ I have no idea what you just said. “

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning.

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing.

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “

“ We are? “

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “

“ I don’t even know you. “

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back. “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness.

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “

“ Perfect, Bucky. “

“ Bring a jacket. “

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing.

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries.

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar.

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook.

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly.

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can.

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue.

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen.

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?”

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around.

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice.

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people.

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles.

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back.

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns.

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while.

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen.

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile.

“ So, what did we learn today? “

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment.

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others.

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “

“ That’s literally what happened. “

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.”

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “

“ Alright. Noted. “

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “

“ Hmm? “

“ The one you went on a date with? “

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.”

“ Why not? “

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.”

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.”

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “

“ Swing. “

“ You swing dance? “

“ I did. “

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in.

“ You twirled me! “

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that.

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk.

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “

“ Yup. “

“ Hey, Bucky.”

“ What? “

“ You really can dance.”

“ Told you. “

“ Can I tell you a secret? “

“ Sure. “

“ I can’t dance for shit. “

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “

“ Absolutely not.”

“ Oh, 100%! “

“ We’ll see about that.”

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now.

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “

“ Alright, if you say so. “

“ Thanks for walking me home. “

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night.

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “

“ Can’t wait. “

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye?

“ I uh — I should go. “

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.”

“ You too, (Y/N).”

“ Oh and Bucky? “

“ Yes? “

“ Give Leah a call. “

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #mcu imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

227 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 3 years

Text

Mr Mizunetzu’s secret Santa! Kita x reader - cold, cold observations (he loves me so it’s okay)

( @luv-hqs hi HAHA!! I was ur secret Santa >:) Funny story, I accidentally deleted the ask you gave me that had your preferences, but I vaguely remember there being a “Kita” and “angst” LMAO SO I ROLLED WITH THAT TELL ME IF I GOT IT WRONG BUT HEY YALL GET UR FIRST INARIZAKI FIC FROM ME )

⚠️warnings - ANGST? Unintentionally cold Kita baby doesn’t mean it I swear, sad ending

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part two here!

——————

“I like you, Kita-kun! Please, please go out with me!”

(Y/n) thrusted himself into a sharp, 90 degree bow, squeezing his eyes shut and balling his hands up into fists, planted firmly against his sides. Kita looked down at him.

“Sure.”

“Wh-“ (Y/n’s) head tossed up, his (h/c)-colored hair whipping back as he did so. “Really?”

Kita nodded. “I like you too, so I don’t see why you’re so surprised. People date people who they like, right?”

A wide smile stretched across (Y/n’s) face, illuminating it just enough to catch the pretty cherry blossom petals fluttering around him. His face shone like the sun, even daring to put the big ball of light to shame. He stood back up, his smile still noticeably big and happy.

“Please take care of me then, Kita-kun.” (Y/n) stepped forward and sheepishly brushed his fingers against Kita’s shoulder.

‘He loves me...’

——

Please take care of me.

It was a simple request. A simple phrase. “Please take care of me,” not in a babied, maternal way, but in the way that (Y/n) hoped him and Kita would be as a lovey-dovey couple you see in romance manga. The kind you see and can’t help but coo at.

“You need to stop flailing your arms around. You’re weakening your spike, (L/n)-kun.”

Kita called out so suddenly, (Y/n) mid-spike, making him sputter and land awkwardly. The ball hit the net with a thud, before landing on the same side of the court it came from. Kita looked at (Y/n) skeptically. It was his normal, straight-laced face, but everyone in the gym could sense the intimidating aura Kita was projecting.

No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that aura, to be cornered by Kita’s judgementful gaze. Yet here (Y/n) was. How unlucky.

“I’m...I’ll do it better next time, Shicchan.”

“Shicchan?”

“W-well...you don’t mind it when I call you that in private, Sh-“

“This isn’t private, (L/n)-kun. We’re in practice.” Kita bore holes into (Y/n’s) skull, who was desperately trying to look anywhere but Kita. Aran scratched the back of his neck.

“Uh-it’s just a nickname dude, plus, you guys are dating, right? So it’s natural that (L/n)-san would call you that.”

“That doesn’t distract from the fact you need to get your spikes over the net, (L/n)-kun. Not on it.” Kita paid Aran no mind, and continued staring down (Y/n) with a heavy, emotionless gaze.

“S-sorry...” (Y/n) shrank back into himself. Everyone who was staring immediately scrambled to look away once Kita looked back. Kita wordlessly walked away.

“Damn, I’m sorry man.” Aran’s eyebrows contorted into a look of pity, while (Y/n) awkwardly chuckled.

“S’fine. He was...probably just having a bad day s’all.” (Y/n) brushed off Kita’s cold judgment faster than Aran expected. He smiled.

“He loves me, so it’s okay.”

——

Today is a good day. (Y/n) hummed as he strolled down the path to practice. In fact, today is a great day. (Y/n) didn’t know why, but it was a great day.

(Y/n) strut into the gym, carrying bag of steamed pork buns he’d bought at the convenience store a few minutes ago. The gyms inhabitants stopped one by one, their focuses shifting from their individual practice to (Y/n) and his bag of food.

Hungry players, especially Atsumu and Osamu, flocked towards (Y/n) with hungry stomachs or a sense of curiousness. Kita caught the ball he was tossing in the air and looked at (Y/n) with blank eyes.

“You’re disrupting practice.” Kita said, not moving an inch from where he was standing. (Y/n’s) smile faltered a bit.

“W-well I just felt like buying the team some food-I feel like we’ve been working hard and we deserve it-“

“You came to practice late to buy food that you could’ve bought after practice?” Kita’s question felt more like a jab at (Y/n’s) chest. Everyone crowding around (Y/n) froze up, a sudden icy-cold shooting down their spines. Kita’s unwanted, scary aura was back.

“I...”

“Why would you do that?” Kita cocked his head to the side. “You’re late to practice-you don’t even have your gym clothes on-and since you have food it’s either we eat it now and can’t practice-because we might get stomachaches-or we eat it after and it gets cold and you waste your money.”

The once bright smile caused by (Y/n’s) ‘good day’ finally cracked. He looked at Kita with embarrassment, trying to play it off with a less cheery, forced smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat closed up and no words came out.

Kita sighed. “Well I don’t want you to waste your money. I guess we’re eating (L/n)-sans steamed buns now.” He turned to the coach. “Is it ok if we take a break from practice? (L/n)-kun brought steamed buns. If we’re lucky we can practice at the end of our practice time once we digest.”

Coach nodded awkwardly. Kita walked up to (Y/n), whose bag of food was being shared and distributed amongst Inarizaki. (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line.

“I’m...I’m sorry Shinsuke-kun.” (Y/n’s) happy day was weathered down and left with empty sadness in seconds. He felt so proud and courteous for buying his team a treat purely out of impulse, but now he just felt guilty for disturbing practice.

“It’s alright, I guess.” Kita’s words held no value, as he pecked (Y/n) on the cheek lovelessly. (Y/n) shot him a weak smile, cupping the cheek whom he had kissed gently.

‘He...loves me...so it’s okay.’

‘So it’s okay...’

——

It was such a small gesture. The small act of Kita drawing his hand away when (Y/n) reached out to hold it, him bringing his hand up to lock away in his pocket as they walked through the schools hallways. It was such a small, infinitesimal detail that (Y/n) should’ve brushed off with ease. Y’know, maybe his hand was just cold.

But he couldn’t.

He hesitantly slowed to a stop. “Shin...Kita-kun.”

Kita looked back, a blank look laced with the tiniest amount of confusion weaved inside. “Did something happen?”

“Do you love me?”

Kita dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Of course I do.” It came out his mouth no more than an automated machine would, as he dragged (Y/n) gently to the side of the hallway. “Be careful next time. We’re lucky not much people were around. Someone could’ve heard you.”

‘Heard you?’ (Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t angry. No, no he wasn’t angry. He just felt like someone hollowed out his insides.

“Is it so bad if people heard me? That I love you and wanna know if you love me too?”

“Yes.”

Kita had no filter. He announced it like saying ‘The sky is blue’, stating it like a fact he expected (Y/n) to know. And he wasn’t even adorning a stern or intentionally harsh face while he said it. Though, it was the way Kita said it so bluntly and emotionlessly that made it hurt the most.

But now that (Y/n) thought about it, when was the last time Kita smiled because of him?

Has he ever even seen him smile?

Has he ever seen, touched, or heard any sort of proof of his love?

Of Kita Shinsuke’s love?

(Y/n) downcast his face. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

“You know how people feel about gay relationships. Not even my baa-san knows yet. So what if one of our classmates see-“

“-but the whole team knows-!”

“-and I trust the team. They won’t say a word until we’re sure and ready to tell everyone.”

(Y/n) stayed silent after that. Then, he opened his mouth.

“...Then do you trust me?”

It came out like a cracked, hoarse whisper. Kita, for once, look stunned. His eyebrows raised slightly and his eyes widened, even if it were just a little bit.

“Of course I do.”

Another automated response.

(Y/n) nodded, letting Kita lead them back to the middle of the hallway to walk to practice. (Y/n) gave up on trying to hold Kita’s cold, cold hands, and instead thought solemnly to himself.

‘He...he loves...’

He paused. He looked over at Kita, who was looking straight ahead. He looked back down to his walking feet.

‘Does he love me?’

——

Kita looked around the gym. He saw Atsumu and Osamu yelling at each other about something he couldn’t quite make out, Suna fishing out his phone from his pocket, and Ginjima chatting and peppering a volleyball back and forth with Aran.

But no (Y/n).

Kita tapped Suna on the shoulder, who was zooming in and taking pictures of Osamu’s disgusted face. He hummed in acknowledgement, now trying to zoom in on Atsumu on the ground.

“Have you seen (L/n)-kun today?”

“In class, yeah. At practice, no.” Suna murmured. Kita nodded and thanked him for the info. That meant he was at school today, at least.

Excusing himself from practice, Kita stepped out of the gym. I mean, why wouldn’t he be worried about the whereabouts of his boyfriend? Especially with how odd he’s been acting, Kita couldn’t help but worry just a smidge.

After what seemed like hours of pointless searching, he eventually found a mop of (h/c)-hair sitting on a stone bench under the same cherry tree (Y/n) had confessed to him to. Kita had checked the place on impulse, not actually expecting to see someone there, but it was better than nothing. Kita walked up to the boy sitting with his back faced to him, and without even saying anything, (Y/n) gave a small hum.

“Mm.” Was all he said. His back was slouched, and he was still in his school uniform. His school bag laid pathetically strewn on the grass next to him, and if Kita could see his expression, it was probably unreadable.

“Practice is going on.”

“Mhm.”

“You should be at practice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why aren’t you going to practice?”

“Is everything about practice with you?” (Y/n) lifted his head. His voice was still calm, but it raised in volume ever so slightly. “Practice, practice, practice. What about how I feel?”

Kita opened his mouth to say something, but for the first time, nothing came out. He didn’t know what to do. Was he mad at him? Did he do something wrong?

“I...” (Y/n) choked back his words, letting out a sigh and slumping down on the stone bench once more. He flicked a fallen cherry blossom petal off his shoulder. “Never mind. I don’t feel like going to practice, tell coach th-“

“Is there something wrong?”

Kita question had come out of nowhere. (Y/n) bunched his hands into fists. “...now you notice?” He turned around, red in the face and tears falling freely in unison with the bittersweet cherry blossoms falling mockingly around them. “Tell me, Kita,”

“Do you love me?”

Kita furrowed his eyebrows. “...of course I-“

“”of course I do.” That’s what you always say..! Say something else, dammit! Say you love me!”

(Y/n) abruptly rose from his seat, stepping over the bench and grabbing Kita by the collar. He pulled him closer to his face, shaking him by the shirt with knuckles that almost turned white.

“M-Make me believe that you love me!” (Y/n’s) tears cascaded down his face, flinging in the air as he whipped his head down so suddenly. Small, choked sobs ripped through (Y/n), yet all Kita could do was stare. Stare with his blank, emotionless face. (Y/n) took his silence as his answer. The silence was so loud.

“...I think we should break up.” Kita’s eyes widened.

“Why?”

(Y/n’s) iron clad grip on Kita’s shirt loosened, he stepped back, face feeling raw after crying. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t tell me they love me. Once you can tell me you love me, and mean it, I’m all ears.”

“(L/n)-kun-“

(Y/n) reached over the bench and pulled his school bag up, dusting off the stupid pink petals that littered around his bag. He slung it over his shoulder numbly, and shot a curt “See you tomorrow.” At Kita.

All Kita could do was stare. With the emotionless face he now wished held more vibrancy.

“...I love you, (Y/n).”

It came out foreign on his lips. It was the first time he’d said those words, hadn’t it? I love you. A cracked whisper, and even then it sounded like it held no value. Kita took one last linger at the now-empty schoolyard, and walked back to practice.

——

When Kita came back to the gym, everyone was sitting in a semi-circle surrounding a whiteboard. Various lineups and positions were drawn hastily on the board, and everyone looked towards the gym door which Kita had come in through. He silently dragged his feet over to the circle of players, and took a seat behind Aran.

“Where were you?” Aran whispered. Kita ignored him, the lump in his throat stinging and bloating his vocal cords up to the point he couldn’t talk.

Every moment, every interaction, every cold, cold observation Kita ever had with (Y/n) flashed before his eyes. The coach’s voice and the squeak of the whiteboard marker melded together as memories of how kind (Y/n) had been played like a dvd in his mind. He’s been so warm. So, so fucking warm. Every piece of warmth (Y/n) shared with him, he took for granted when he told himself he wouldn’t. He wasn’t normally like that. But he’s been so, so cold.

Silent, hot tears blurred Kita’s vision. They fell slowly, and dripped onto the hardwood floor with no meaning whatsoever. He was so cold. He clasped his hands together, shaking, and trying to hush his ragged breathing and sniffles. He felt so cold. Eventually, the coach stopped talking, and one by one players started turning around, asking if Kita was ok.

But he wasn’t. He was so cold.

——————

Kokoro is brokoro in Mr Mizunetzu’s Christmas event

#kita x reader #kita shinsuke #shinsuke kita x reader #haikyuu shinsuke #hq shinsuke #kita x male reader #kita x y/n #kita x you #Kita x m reader #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu boys #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #kita angst #mr Mizunetzu’s secret Santa

671 notes · View notes

kaitycole · 3 years

Text

Love Two: the hard love

Summary: Miya Atsumu is an adventure and a half which is exciting for you after a mundane high school relationship. But what price has to be paid in order for you to be in his world?

Parings: Atsumu x Reader

Word Count: 7187 (my apologies)

Warnings: Angst. Toxic relationship tropes. Toxic behaviors. Slight physical violence (towards the end - it’s a wrist grab and a slap). Adult language.

Rating: 16+

A/N: This series is based on an article that talks about how in live, most of us experience three types of love. I’ll link the article in the series master post for anyone who wants to read it!

Golden yellow hair.

Chocolate brown eyes.

Burnt cinnamon cologne.

These images burn into your mind as tears sting your dry eyes. You swallow hard, trying to get the lump in your throat to dislodge but it only reminds you of how dry your throat is, how sore it is from screaming. Your head lays heavy on your pillow, a dull ache wraps around your head and you aren’t sure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying you’ve done over the last three days.

You two had a fight, another fight, the same old fight. You screamed, he brushed it off, leaving in a rush and slamming the door while you slid down the doorframe, sobbing. You thought that you’d be used to this, the constant up and downs that came with loving Miya Atsumu, the rollercoaster of emotions that came with the cycle of being together, breaking up and then getting back together. You’d been doing it for three years now, on and off again, but never being off for long before he dragged you back into his arms, not that you ever refused.

Your head hangs to the side as you slowly push yourself off the floor, your body too tired after fighting to climb into your bed the night before. For a moment you consider crawling down the hall before your pride takes over as you stand up, legs stiff but wobbly at the same time as your feet drag you to the couch in the living room. You aren’t sure what time it is, your eyes slowly adjusting to the large amount of sunlight coming into the apartment, the apartment he surprised you with and you had loved, now it felt like a prison.

Your phone starts buzzing and when you look, there’s several notifications from your two best friends Kaneko Yua and Higashi Naoki. You shuffle to the kitchen, grabbing a cup as you perch your phone between your shoulder and cheek, filling you cup with tap water.

“Y/N! Where are you?” Yua’s voice is too loud for the linger ache in your head, you jerk the phone from your ear to turn the volume down.

You chug down the ice-cold water that does nothing to remove the dryness from your mouth or throat, it’s as if it’s been coated in a thick layer of cotton. “Apartment.”

She’s silent for a minute, you can hear her mumbling to someone next to her. There’s a muffled sound coming from her end before a new voice comes through the line, fresh tears prick your eyes when you recognize it’s Naoki.

“We’re coming over, don’t leave.”

* * Three years ago

Your high school days had been filled with volleyball matches, practices, tournaments and while you have no ill feelings towards the sport or the boy who brought it into your life, you just hoped university would broaden your horizons.

Yet here you stood at a MSBY Fan Greet, your younger brother all but vibrating with excitement as he waited to get his overprice photograph signed by his favorite team. You previously made plans to hang-out with Yua over the spring break, but since your parents both couldn’t take him, your brother guilted you with the “but I miss hanging out with you” card and puppy dog eyes.

“For you.” His accent coats his words, passing you small folded piece of paper before your brother makes his way down the line to the next player for an autograph, tugging at your pants for you to follow his lead.

** “Wanna get something from the vending machine before the next class?” Yua asks. Kaneko Yua became your friend when you both started university last year, the two of you quickly became the best of friends even though the only interests you share is in your shared Art History major.

“I’m done for the day.” You tilt your head, smiling right before you stick your tongue out at her.

She throws her head back, groaning as you continue to walk, “how’d you get such a good schedule.”

“Told you to take those early morning classes.” You wink before running into her as she suddenly stops. “Yua-ch—”

Golden yellow hair and a cocky smile catch your attention as he leans against a flash sports car in the library parking lot. Yua looks at you, her eyes wide, you had mentioned that you got his number a few weeks ago to her, but that nothing but short conversation came from the exchange which only lasted a few days.

“Y/N!” He calls out to you, obnoxiously waving one arm up in the air to catch your attention, it does, along with the rest of the student body that’s outside.

He starts walking over to you and Yua, pulling off his sunglasses you see that dark chocolate eyes that captured your (e/c) ones just weeks ago. Your heart is thumping against your chest as he quickly closes that gap that has been between you, a short arm’s distance away from him. You can smell his cologne, it’s a strong smell, something similar to burnt cinnamon being carried by the wind the circles around you.

Yua looks at you for answers but you couldn’t give her any if you even tried. You find yourself swallowed whole by his dark eyes, feeling like you’re about to sink. “M-Miya-san?”

“Atsumu.” He smirks, “sorry for just showing up. I was in the neighborhood and thought we could go get something to eat. You aren’t busy, are you?”

“No, she’s not.” Yua nudges your arm, bringing you back to reality, “she’s actually all finished for the day.”

“What do you say? Will you come with me?” He reaches out his hand and you almost immediately take it and maybe you should’ve been more cautious, after all this wasn’t like it was in high school.

** The first few months with Atsumu are blissful, perfect and you start to wonder if this is what you were missing back with Ushijima. Every day with Atsumu is an adventure, you never know what to expect which is a sharp contrast to that same day everyday feeling you had back in high school. He keeps you on your toes and you love it, you eat it up, spending all your free time with him and it shows when you get back a test with a failing mark.

“Budding romances aren’t the most important thing in life, Y/N.” Your professor speaks low when he places the paper on the desk, he doesn’t have to tell you how he feels about it, disappointment drips from his words.

Atsumu didn’t offer much help on the subject either, simply shrugging at it and telling you that there’s always the next test. “Let’s go out.” “I really should study, ‘Tsumu.” You tilt your head back to look up at him, he’s sitting on the couch behind you.

He says your name, dragging out each syllable, “it’s the last night I can. I have an away game that I leave for on Friday.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” “Must have forgot.” He looks down at his phone, “coming or not?”

You know that you shouldn’t have gone, that studying is more important, but him leaving meant that you’d be apart for the first time and he had that lopsided pout on his face, so you agree. Grabbing your jacket and following him out the door as he drapes an arm around you, “I can always count on you.”

* * Two years and four months ago

“I’m gonna kill him!” Yua shouts as she walks into your dorm room. She practically ran from her part-time job in the library to your dorm when you called her, unable to talk from crying so loudly. While she took the elevator up to your room, she managed to see the text explaining the cause of your distress and is fuming.

“You’ll…go…to jail.” You finally manage to spit out, the sobs and hiccups breaking up your words as you wipe your running nose on your sweatshirt sleeve. Usually Yua would scold you, telling you just how disgusting that it, but tonight she just sits next to you, letting you lean on her shoulder.

She gently rubs your arm as she wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to her side, “maybe I’ll key that fancy car of his.”

“I think it’s his brother’s.”

“Deflate his balls!”

“Yua!”

“Volleyballs, get your head out of the gutter.” She smiles when you let out a small laugh. She leans her head down on yours and you are thankful that you’re close enough for the silence to be comfortable, for certain things to be left unsaid.

* * Two years and two months ago

The next few weeks seem to drag by, each day seemingly longer than the last. Yua has all but moved into your dorm, refusing to leave your side for more than the duration of classes. With her there, you realize even more that your phone hasn’t gone off, there’s no surge of messages coming through from a certain setter. Things take a bit of a turn when you hear a nearby conversation, two girls gushing about some famous model getting into a relationship to a volleyball player.

But it’s that said volleyball player’s name that anchors your feet to the ground, that name that echoes in your ears while your lungs struggle to take in the air you want to force into them.

Miya Atsumu

Yua essentially banned the use of his name or anything related to him into your life and for better or worse you’ve both manage to uphold it, especially seeing how with his newest brand deal, his face is everywhere just like Michael Jordan’s was in the U.S. during the 90’s. Somehow, you manage to avoid it, until now when your body seems to act on its own and you’re sudden reading several headlines confirming the match.

* * Two years ago

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” Yua looks at you, worry etched on her expression, “I don’t have to go to this guest speaking event.”

“Yua, you’ve been talking about this for weeks, you’re going.”

“Promise to call if you need me to come back? I’m only going to Tokyo, so I can get back within three hours.”

“Yes, yes, I promise.” You make a “shoo” gesture with your hand, walking towards her as she picks up her back to leave. You pull her into a quick hug, reassuring her that everything will be fine for one weekend.

** You let out a dramatic sigh, towel drying your hair as you walk out of the bathroom and towards your bed.

8PM on a Friday and I’m getting ready for bed, lame.

You’re slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks when the music you’ve been playing gets interrupted by a phone call. Within much thought, assuming it’s Yua, you answer, only to stop in your tracks when a familiar and husky voice calls your name.

“Y/N!” Each syllable of your name is drawn out with a slight lag, a telltale sign that he’s intoxicated.

If Yua was there, she would tell you to just hang up and block the number, that you had been doing better lately and should just let someone else deal with it, but Yua isn’t there and you feel that it must mean something if you had been the one he called. Drunken words are sober thoughts, right?

His drunken voice and repeated plea of your name is enough to melt you, enough to make you throw all rational thought out the window, quickly throwing on a hoodie, rushing to the address he barely slurred out.

Fortunately, the restaurant he is at isn’t too far from your dorm, however it is embarrassing when you walk in and could hear him across the room, shouting for you.

“Atsumu.”

He quickly turns to you, that sloppy grin of his piercing you in the heart as he stumbles over to throw his arms around you. The scent of alcohol hits you before he does, leaving you to wonder just how much he’s had as you stagger backwards a bit before steadying the both of you. You just barely get the both of you to a cab, his constant swaying challenging you until you’re able to shove him in the vehicle, hesitating when asked where they were taking you. You didn’t know where he was staying these days, you still weren’t sure what he was doing in Kyoko, so you settle for the only address you know to go.

** “Are you serious?” Yua shouts, all but pulling out her hair.

Three weeks. That’s how long Atsumu had been back in your life and how long your best friend had been in the dark about it. You wanted to tell her about the night Atsumu called drunk, but felt it was best to do it in person since it was such a touchy subject, but when she got back, she was still so excited about the speaker and to tell you about it, you lost your nerve.

Then as the days continued to go by, you kept coming up with a reason not to tell her. What you weren’t expecting was her for to just show up out of the blue or for a fresh out of the shower Atsumu to answer the door. You felt confrontation coming and that was something you weren’t a huge fan of.

“I know it looks bad, but I can explain.”

Yua shakes her head, her lips in a straight line, foot tapping on the tile flooring. “This is why you’ve been cutting classes and missing assignments.”

“I don’t see how this is your business at all.” Atsumu glances over at Yua, an amused smirk on his lips, “jealousy doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Yua turns abruptly on her heel, storming out of the dorm room and when you grab her arm, there’s tears in her eyes when she turns to face you.

“He’s changed, Yua.” There’s such a hopeful look on your face, an expression that screams that you actually believe him.

She drags her arm across her eyes, wiping away the tears, “why can’t you see he’s not good for you!”

* * 1 year and 10 months ago

The shuffling of your peers is lost on you, motionlessly staying in your seat as all of those around you practically bolt out after the 55 minutes long public speaking class. Your eyes are trained on the board in front of you but the notebook on your desk is unopened, your pen still capped.

It takes a few moments for you to notice the weight of the hand on your shoulder and the back and forth motion it's pushing you in. Shaking your head, you snap out of whatever daze you’ve been in and look over to see Naoki with a concerned expression on his face.

“Do you need to see the nurse?”

You shake your head, “oh, no. I was just thinking.”

He raises an eyebrow at the quick smile you throw his way before he sighs, giving into your excuse, even after only knowing each other a few months, Naoki knew when to just let things go.

“Good morn—You aren’t Yua.” You stopped your greeting when you noticed the shuffling at the chair next to you wasn’t Yua but someone you’d never seen before.

“Oh no, sorry. I’m Higashi Naoki, I just transferred here.” He gave you a big bright smile, extending his hand out.

“Uh, oh, hello.” You felt embarrassment creep up the back of your neck as you awkwardly shook his hand. Luckily your phone vibrated, allowing you to focus your attention to something else other than the rather attractive brunette sitting next to you.

You read the words on the screen, somewhat understood the meaning of them but your mind kept going back to the warm orange brown eyes that looked at you with such kindness. They reminded you of the way you felt back in high school, the way that Ushijima made sure you always felt: safe.

To your surprise, Yua had already met Naoki, they shared the glass before this one and Yua was actually excited that you two had ended up meeting. After that, the three of you were fast friends, almost as if you had all been friends for years rather than just several weeks. But not everyone was excited for your new friendship and he had no problem being very vocal about it.

Atsumu wasn’t keen on the friendship when he randomly showed up to the campus one day, seeing the two of you sitting outside, laughing. You had to run after him, he took off without letting you even introduce Naoki, trying to tell him that he was just a friend, but Atsumu seemed to already have his mind made up on what was what.

A week later, after not hearing from Atsumu you got a message from him telling you that he needed to dedicate himself more to his team, his career and being in a relationship with you just wasn’t it.

“You can copy my notes during lunch, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Nao-chan!” You smile up at him while shoving your things into your backpack. He clears his throat, blush spreading across his cheeks as he turns away from you.

** Professor A: Missing Assignments

Professor B: Make-up Test Notice

Professor C: Mandatory Advisor Meeting

XMail: Unread Messages (12)

You feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to read the emails, already knowing the disappointed messages they held. You hadn’t been your best self lately especially when it came to your studies and had several unfinished assignments and 0’s in the gradebook. It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Atsumu had been broken up but for some reason, each time felt worse than the previous time.

Leaning back, you let out a deep sigh as you glance around at the boxes that liter the room. After you and Atsumu broke up the most recent time, Yua managed to convince you to move into her off-campus apartment. At first you didn’t like the idea, not wanting to be a burden to her or cause anyone to think anything of her with you living with her, but she wouldn’t heard anything but yes. She told you that she had the space (her parents insisted on getting her a two bedroom even though it was just her) and it was easier for her to keep an eye on you.

There are still some things that are in boxes, mostly things from Atsumu that you didn’t want to toss out, but didn’t think should be on display either. Plus, with all the catching up you had to do, there wasn’t much time for anything else especially with the schedule that Yua had made for you. The two of you shared most classes, so she had all the notes and study guides you needed and to be honest, it helped keep your mind off a certain MSBY setter.

BZZT!

Nao-chan: I’m heading up, let me in! (1:42PM)

A smile spreads across your face, pushing yourself from the desk and quickly slipping out of your room and towards the door. By the time you open it, you see him walking up the hallway and he flashes you his signature smile when his eyes meet yours.

“Nao-chan!” You crash into him, wrapping him into a hug, one that he returns effortlessly.

“What have I done to get such a warm welcome?”

“I can’t just miss you?” You tilt your head when you look up at him, stepping away from him to look him in the eye. You hold back a laugh when you see his face turn red, turning his face away from you before mumbling something along the lines of “yeah, no, that’s fine.”

You bring back two cups of juice (Yua refused to let soda into the apartment) and notice that Naoki seems to be nervous, wringing his hands together and looking down at the ground which is different that he usually acts.

“Nao-chan, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, uhm, well I wanted to ask you something.” He makes eye contact with you and you nod for him to continue, “I bought these and thought we could go together.”

He pulls something out of the inside pocket of his jacket, passing it to you and for a second your blood runs cold, eyes scanning over the item picking up the word ‘volleyball’. By the warmth suddenly on your arm, you could tell that Naoki sensed your discomfort.

“Forget it, it was a dumb idea.”

“No! It’s not, it’s just…uhm…”

“I just thought that it might be a good way to get out of the apartment and it’s an Adlers’ game so maybe you’d seen your friend.”

You scrunch your brows together before looking back at the tickets. It was for a game between the Schweiden Adlers and Tachibana Red Falcons, a smile spread across your face, a mix of excitement to see Ushijima play again (his play style is still one of your favorites) but also that Naoki remembered these little facts about you.

“I’d love to go. I’ll call Ushijima and tell him we’ll be there!” You give him a quick hug, rushing to your room to get your phone, leaving a smiling Naoki behind.

** Naoki smiles watching you all but vibrate as you wait in line to go into the gym. The game had been all you talked about for the last two weeks, eager to get out of the apartment for anything other than classes or your on-campus job. You spent most of your free time telling Naoki just how amazing Ushijima is on the court and how he had already asked to meet Naoki, who seemed a bit nervous when you mentioned that.

“I didn’t know you liked watching volleyball, Nao-chan. Did you play in school?”

“Oh, uh no. The person I’m interested in likes it, so I thought I’d learn more about it.” He hands over the tickets, the two of you being ushered into to the building. His shoulder brushes yours due to the large amount of people all in the crowed hallway.

“I didn’t know you had your eye on someone! I’ll teach you all I know about volleyball so you can impress them!” You beam a huge smile at Naoki before your attention is pulled to the other side of the hallway. “Nao-chan! Let’s get t-shirts!”

He follows you as you drag him towards a table set up with shirts to memorialize the game. You intended to get matching ones, but due to size differences, you had a settle with a white shirt for you and a black on for Naoki. After you reluctantly let him pay, the two of you make your way to the gym, Ushijima had seats held for the two of you.

Once the whistle blew, you were back in your element, a huge smile on your face watching Ushijima command the court just like he had been for as long as you could remember. For the first time in years, you feel light and free, happier than you can remember being. Ushijima catches your eye at some point during the second set and you eagerly wave to him, giving him that same toothy grin you did as kids.

** “Toshi!” You barely give him time to turn around, running straight into him as you throw your arms around him, both Toshi and Naoki chuckle at the fact you managed to knock Toshi off balance for a few seconds.

“Y/N.” He pulls you into his broad chest and if you hadn’t known him for years, you wouldn’t believe that this tall and muscular man was the same boy who ran around with a watering can that was almost as big as him. “I’m glad you came today, it’s been a while.”

“Since high school.” You bite your lower lip and notice that Toshi squeezes your arm, a gesture he’d do to comfort you. He gives you a reassuring wink, letting you know that there’s no hard feelings about the past before he looks over at Naoki, “are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“Oh no! No, no, no.” You stumble over your words, frantically waving your hands around.

“I’m Higashi Naoki, nice to meet you.”

“Nao-chan is just a friend.”

Linking your arm with his, you look back at him and see his smile drop for a split second before it reappears while shaking hands with Ushijima but that quickly leaves your mind when you see a familiar poof of orange hair. But before you can take the time to figure out who he is, you hear an accent that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget.

“Just friends, huh?”

Your eyes widen in horror, immediately turning and seeing the familiar sight of golden yellow hair walking away from you.

“Y/N—” Naoki reaches out to grab your arm, but you’ve already started running after Atsumu, calling out his name as you rushed to catch up to him, weaving through the crowded hallways.

“Tsumu!” You finally grab ahold of his wrist, trying to pull him back but instead he just yanks you forward as he tries to get his arm away from you.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy with an expression that matches, “why are you even here?”

“I came to see Tos—Ushijima.”

“I mean why are you here talking to me, you are clearly on a date with what’s his face.”

“Nao-chan? We’re just friends, it was just to get out of the apartment and have fun.” Your voice is trembling, bottom lip quivering listening to the harsh tone of his voice.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you were all over him, just stop lying.”

“No! I wasn’t.” The tears you’ve been trying to hold back now slip down your cheeks, you couldn’t figure out why he was acting like this especially when you were broken up.

“I never thought you’d end up like all those other girls, just another pig wanting to date me for status.”

Your heart is pounding loudly in your ears that you don’t hear whatever else he mumbled before turning and walking away, your arm weakly reaches out to him before your knees hit the vinyl flooring. After several moments pass, you feel someone pull you up and wrap their arms around you, the familiar scent of men’s body wash washes over you.

“Thank you.” You choke out, the comforting embrace causing more tears to fall.

“Best friends forever, right?”

* * 1 year and 3 months ago

“Are people looking at me?”

“Huh?” Yua raises an eyebrow as she looks over at you.

“There’s a psychology term for that feeling, it’s called spotlight effect.” Naoki says, trying to reassure you that no one’s looking.

“No, I think she’s right.” Yua stretches an arm out in front of him, causing him to stop walking before you drop your backpack on the ground, shocked.

Atsumu is standing on campus, wearing a suit, carrying a stupidly large bouquet of flowers, going around asking where you are, all but shouting your name to the sky. Part of you wants to disappear, of course he’d choose to stand in the middle of campus, catching everyone’s attention.

You trip slightly over your bag, marching towards him, barely hearing Naoki calling after you before Atsumu’s attention snaps to you, his eyes locking in on yours.

“Y/N!” Gleefully, he scurries towards you, handing the bouquet to you, it’s heavier than you thought it’d be.

“Atsumu, what are you doing?”

“I want, no, I need to talk to you.” He drops down to his knees and you can hear the increase of hushed tones, you glance back to see a very confused Yua and Naoki wears a horrified expression. “I’d like to try again, please.”

“Atsumu…”

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“Okay, okay, just…please get up. People are staring.” You try to hide your face behind the flowers, the pure embarrassment causing your face to burn.

He pushes himself off the ground, grabbing your hand as he pulls you towards the faculty parking lot. It doesn’t feel like you are in your own body, your legs moving to keep up with him before he stops.

Once again, he drops down to his knees, grabbing your hands with his, pleading with you to listen to him, to believe that he really means it when he tells you that he’s changed, asking you for just one more shot. For most of his speech, you look at the top of his head, seeing that the golden yellow is being overtaken by his natural dark brown roots, your fingers twitch, wanting to run through his hair. It’s when you finally lock eyes with him that you see the tears that line them, a single one slipping down his cheek from the corner of his right eye.

“I shouldn’t have come.” He wipes his eyes, sniffling a bit. He squeezes your hands before he stands up, letting you go. “I’m sorry for doing this you.”

There’s no way to explain it, but he seems different and suddenly you want to see this new him, to be the one that gets to be part of this new and mature Atsumu. Throwing all your sense out the window, pushing the rational and logical voices of Yua and Naoki to the back of your head, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his back and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Don’t go.”

* * 9 months ago

“Y/N! Door!”

Still in the process of buttoning your shirt, you poke your head out of your room, “I’m almost done, can you get it, please?”

Yua and Naoki share a look, when you had told them you decided to get back with Atsumu they weren’t shy about telling you how they were against it, that as your friend they hated seeing you so hurt, but they also told you that they weren’t just going to leave you either. It had been an unspoken rule that when it came to all things Atsumu (including opening the door) that they didn’t want to be part of it, for you to keep that part of your life away, unless he did something to hurt you.

Naoki reluctantly gets up, you can tell by the way he sluggishly walks his way towards the door. Dipping back into your room, you finish getting ready, grabbing your phone and sweater before pulling the door shut behind you.

You hear the door slam shut and look to see an irritated Naoki, “where’s Tsumu?” Naoki goes to speak, but you don’t give him a chance, instead just rush out of the apartment.

“Tsumu! Tsumu!” You shout out to him, barely catching his attention as he presses the button for the elevator. “Where are you going?”

He clenches his fist; the gesture catches your eye. “Home. I didn’t sign up to be humiliated tonight.” He looks at you, a type of rage in his eyes that you’ve never seen before and you aren’t sure what could’ve happened to make him so upset. Since he showed up on campus, begging for another chance eh always made sure to be open about his feelings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You have to tell me, Tsumu.”

“I just don’t like him being in your apartment.”

The elevator dings, doors opening and just as he goes to step into it, you pull back on his arm, pleading with him to stay, tears filling your eyes. He jerks his arm from your grip, not that you were holding on that tightly, and he steps into the elevator.

You aren’t sure why your relationship is like this, why it has so many ups and downs, why it hurts this much. You aren’t sure why being with Atsumu is so hard, why it feels like all you see is his back while he walks away from you, leaving you broken each time. In high school, you hated the almost boring way each day with Ushijima felt, but in this moment, you’d give anything for that because at least back then you felt safe and knew where you stood.

* * 5 months ago

For the last four months, Atsumu spoiled you rotten with daily gifts and elaborate dates. You received a flower a day, it was the flower of your birth month, boxes of your favorite candies, along with cards that had some romantic quote in them.

For dates, he takes you to the best restaurants, buys out move theatres, flies you to various parts of Japan to not only watch his games, but to show you around. When you’re together, he actually listens to you, takes his time to finally get to ask you about your upbringing, family, and where you see yourself in five years. He shows you how he’s remembered things you don’t like and even the things that you do and for the first time in the two plus years you’ve known him, it feels like things are starting to even out, that all the turmoil might just be over.

** “Do you like it?” His accent drips from his words, you’ve noticed the accent gets thicker when he’s either nervous or excited.

You glance around the empty apartment, a bit confused as why you’re standing in the middle of it. You thought that Yua apartment was big, considering it had two bedrooms, but this seems to be even bigger than hers. The large windows allow an abundance of natural light and you really do like that.

“It’s a really nice apartment.” You smile as he walks over to you, pulling you into his toned chest, his chin on your forehead.

“I’m glad, it’s yours.”

You pull back, shock written all over your expression, too many thoughts racing through your mind for you to form a sentence. Atsumu did a lot of crazy things, did a lot of spur of the moment things, but this, this really did top them all. “What?”

He shrugs, digging in his pocket before placing a key in your hand, he looks a bit scared to you. “It’s just…my lease was up and I know it’s a bit further from campus than Yua’s, but I was thinking you’d like to live here…with me.”

Without any hesitation, you throw your arms around Atsumu, repeatedly saying “yes” as you awkwardly bounced up and down. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands, bringing you closer for a kiss.

You can’t stop smiling, eagerly nodding your head as Atsumu talks about furniture and getting your things boxed to be moved, not really hearing anything because all you can think of is that things are finally going to work out between the two of you and that’s why your heart is thumping against your chest.

* * 3 months ago

Two months.

8 weeks.

60.8 days.

That’s how long your relationship of bliss lasted, how long you saw the caring and loving version of Atsumu, the side of him that stole your heart even after months and years of back and forth, ups and down, on and off.

You hate it because things were going so well, everything was perfect, even better than how great things had been with Ushijima back in high school. What you hate even more is the fact that while you had been packing up your things, you said some not so nice things to Yua, telling her that she was wrong about him, that this time things were going to work out. You had all but bragged and even hit below the belt with saying she was just jealous that she didn’t have someone that loved her the way Atsumu loves you.

Nine times out of ten you’re alone in this apartment, your music on the highest volume isn’t loud enough to fill the silence that creeps through the rooms and wraps around you and when the silence gets to you, you’re forced to think about things you’d rather not. Like how right Yua had been, how Naoki was only looking out for you, how every time you got back together with Atsumu, it just seemed to hurt worse than the time before.

During that one time of ten that Atsumu is home, the two of you just fight, you fight about everything really; your classes, his games, your friends, his friends and now that you’re all but isolated from your friends, it just makes things worse. You’ve always hated comparing the two, Ushijima to Atsumu, knowing both relationships are/were different, but recently, you’ve wondered if repeating the same day over and over, if that almost suffocating comfort, you wonder if that would be easier to live with now when looked at next to the way your current relationship has been.

* * Atsumu flips his phone face down, muting it after it had begun to ring, turning his attention back to the movie the two of you were watching.

You scoff, pushing yourself off his side to lean against the other side of the sofa.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what? I was just getting more comfortable.”

“Cut the shit. You always do this.”

You roll your eyes, already irritated. “Did you want me to leave the room so you could call her back?”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He pushes himself off the couch, shaking his head as he storms into the kitchen.

You reach across the couch, swiping his phone from the armrest, trying to get into it, but no surprise he’s once against changed the passcode. You’re fuming at this point, shoving yourself off the couch before you start to walk to your room. You were done, have been done with all of this.

His hand tightly wraps around your wrist and jerks you backwards towards him. He starts yelling, demanding that you give him back his phone and the anger in you takes over and you throw it across the room. You start to scream about how you’re done, you’re tired and don’t deserve to feel this miserable. He yells back telling you that he’s giving you things anyone would be thankful to have and you smack him with your free hand.

He freezes, dropping your wrist as he runs his fingers through his hair, the expression on his face is something you’ve never seen and without another word, he storms out of the apartment.

You didn’t see him for three weeks, if it hadn’t been for his teammates Hinata and Bokuto stopping by, you wouldn’t have known that he’s okay and has been staying with them. When he does come back, he has a long-winded apology and a large bouquet of flowers. He falls to his knees in the door way, telling you that he’s sorry, that he can’t believe his actions and that he swears that he’ll do better.

* * Present Day

When you open the door, Yua throws her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace and you feel yourself start to sob again. She holds you up as your knees get weak, letting the exhaustion take over you as you inhale her familiar perfume.

Naoki slightly pushes by the two of you, angrily making his way through the apartment, brows scrunched into a scowl. You watch as he flings open every door, stomping through each room before he walks back to you, rage radiating off of him. “Where the fuck is he?”

You’re startled, panicking you look up at Yua who wraps her arm around your neck and pulls you back into her, your face pressing just below the top of her shoulder.

“Obviously not here, so chill out.”

She ushers you over to the couch, Naoki handing you the throw blanket to wrap around yourself as you finally catch your breath. You lean your head on the back of the couch, it just adds pressure to your headache, but you’re having a hard time opening up to your friends.

“How’d you know something was wrong?” You slowly lift your head up, looking between the two of them, your face turning red when you hear that you called Naoki repeatedly around 2AM, leaving incoherent voicemails where they only picked up on the words: fight, Atsumu and leave.

“I really think you should move back in with me.” Yua speaks with caution, knowing how sensitive the topic is.

You just nod, defeatedly. You’re more upset about failing to maintain the relationship than you are that the relationship is over. Part of you wants to know why you put yourself through so much to prove you could stay with him, was it because you didn’t want your previous break-up to mean nothing? That if you could make this one work then you weren’t an awful person for ending things with Ushijima for an almost comical reason?

“Just pack what you have to have and we’ll replace whatever you don’t bring and need, okay?” Naoki gives you a small smile before Yua stands up telling you that she’ll grab your things from the bathroom and Naoki can get the things throughout the living room.

Roughly half an hour later, you have most of the things you brought, minus any gifts that Atsumu gave you, but you can’t seem to step through the threshold. Yua and Naoki are standing in the hallway waiting, but you’re afraid to make the step because all of a sudden it symbolizing a bigger commitment that you intended. Once you step out of the apartment, once you shut the door and drop the key in the box, you’re officially shutting the Miya Atsumu chapter of your life and that shakes you to the core.

“Y/N, you’re going to be okay. We’re right here. I’m right here.” Naoki reaches out his hand and you decide to take that leap, grabbing on to his hand like a lifeline. Your knees are wobbly as you place one foot into the hallway, straddling the threshold. “C’mon, just one more step. I got you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, frantically taking that last step before throwing your arms around Naoki, repeatedly saying “I did it!” He puts his hand on the back of your head, pressing you into him, telling you that he’s proud of you.

You take one last look into the apartment that for some reason now fills small, it feels different, like you no longer belong there and while you’re still terrified of letting go of the rope that ties you and Atsumu together, there’s something exhilarating about starting over. Your eyes are closed as you pull the door shut and when you turn and open them, you see proud smiles on both Yua and Naoki’s faces and you couldn’t help but be excited for this next chapter.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Interested in the rest of the series? –> Series Masterlist

Interested in other works? –> Masterlist

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu atsumu #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #hq angst #my three loves #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #kaitycole MTL #atsumu angst #tw toxic relationship #tw angst #tw toxic behavior #tw physical violence #tw slapping #tw adult language

97 notes · View notes

pitaparka · 4 years

Text

eye of the storm

request: Hi! Can you do an imagine where the reader is surfing with John B en JJ on a stormy night and she gets hurts/almost drowns?

summary: john b., reader, and jj go surfing during agatha. they get hurt and the boys fuss and care for them.

pairings: jj x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: near death experience, near drowning, large cuts

a/n: no super huge romance, just some friendly post trauma kisses. nothin gay about kissin your homies. big love

You shouldn’t have gone with them in the first place, but by the time you realized the tides were too rough for you, for anyone, it was too late.

The waves were frothy white, loud, and gorgeous. It was impossible not to feel tempted by them, by mother nature’s intense beauty. They surged high, rolling in on themselves before pushing in as far as they could onto the beach.

At first, you weren’t going to go in. You were going to stand around, watching them in the cold rain, making sure they didn’t drown or get hurt. It was stupid, you thought, as they blared music in the van, harsh winds and pelting rains sounding loudly against the metal, almost pushing John B. off the road a few times.

But the crash of the waves and the peaks of the crests, the strong pulling of the tide at your bare, sandy feet were too much for you. It courses adrenaline through your veins at an unfiltered rate. The sides of the beach were blown out, so you’d have to stay in the middle. You’d be able to live with that.

As JJ and John B. paddled out into the water, you retreated back to the van, where your board sat, begging to be used in the storm.

Paddling out into the ocean, you feel how intense the current is. You have to duck under many waves before you get one that’s salvageable.

It’s incredible to see through the barrel of the wave, but only for a second, as the wave changes and you’re under the water, eyes and lungs stinging. Your hand catches your board before you go too far down, and you wait the wave out, before pulling yourself onto the board, stomach flat on the hardwood finish and paddling out further. You have to duck under the waves that have already started to swell, but you have a good feeling about one far out, forming in the distance.

You see the break line and you’re off, paddling as hard as you can to catch it before it peaks. Before you know it you’re up on the board, and you make the bottom turn, cutting through the wave like a knife, balanced out and eyes the clearest they’ve been all week. You curve up, and then back in, watching the water crest right in front of you. But the whole wave closes out at the same time and you go under again, water in your eyes and ears. The wave turns you over in the swell, and you start swimming back to the surface.

Only, you’re not. You feel the tug on your leg, and you realize you’re swimming in the wrong direction. Using all your strength, you make it to the top, but are pushed back under in another swell, breathless and disoriented.

You pull your leg up to find your strap, panicking, and climb it up to where your board was, getting pulled viciously toward the beach in another wave. You swim up to the top, finally getting some air, and try to find your board. You pant as you wipe your face, but you can see another wave coming. You go under as it crests right above you, and your lungs sting. You come up coughing.

After the wipe out you don’t realize how close you are to the rocks near the pier until you’re on top of them, scraping your legs and the palms of your hands. The ocean is pure white there, all froth and harsh currents. But it’s not as strong as the waves in the middle. You pull your board into you, and decide you’ve had enough for the day, when you see John B. on the beach, board in hand. You wipe your face again, and sit upright on your board. You survey the water and are surprised to see JJ making his way over to you. His hair is curled over onto his face, almost like a wave itself, his chest bare and his arms moving hard.

“Rocks!” You yell out to caution him, but he’s pulling his board to his chest and ducking under a wave.

He’s almost close enough to hear you when you watch him wince. He must’ve caught himself on a rock.

“You okay?” He yells, and you’re nodding, ready to go back in. He’s by your side and grabbing your arm to keep himself next to you. You grab his knee and feel the waves rock the two of you steadily.

“What happened?” He asks, and you know what he means but it’s too dangerous to hold a conversation out here.

“Let’s go in!” You yell over the swell, and he watches you with concerned eyes for a moment, before he makes you go first. It’s not as bad just riding the waves in, and as soon as you can stand, John B. is in the water, taking your board for you and walking alongside you.

You get to dry sand and rip the velcro off of your ankle. The waves are still loud, but at least now you can hear when John B. tells you, “You’re bleeding.”

You look down and see the culprit: a large scrape down the entire side of your calf, which stings with the salty air. He puts your board down in the sand and kneels down by it to get a better look when JJ makes it in too. He drops his board to the sand and doesn’t even bother unstrapping himself from his board.

“You okay? We saw you wipe out pretty bad,” JJ says, and there’s no pride in his voice. Just concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I just cut my leg on the rocks over there,” you say, watching John B inspect the cut.

“I think I have a first aid kit in the car. We have towels too,” John B. informs, and he picks up your surfboard and his own, waiting for you to start walking.

JJ is on you in a second, throwing your arm over his shoulder, his board under his other arm, as his hand wraps around your side. You smile and hobble with him over to John B.’s van.

The walk is silent save for the wind, and is entirely awkward.

“You’re shaking still,” JJ whispers to you as he sits you down on the floor of the van.

“I’ll be fine,” you reply. He moves to the back of the van as John B. starts it up. You wipe your sandy feet carefully on the asphalt before JJ comes back with a towel, pressing it carefully to the cut. You wince.

“Sorry,” he mutters, lifting it off the cut to inspect the blood. He places it gently back down and applies pressure.

“Ugh, JJ stop doing that. I’m gonna pass out,” you tease, but JJ is not laughing. He glares up at you, and you watch him with warm eyes.

John B. enters from the other side of the van and closes the door, surfboards piled up in the back. He looks under the seat and finds an old first aid kit, probably from when his dad bought the van. It’s dusty and yellow and disgusting looking. He sits down behind you and starts going through it. You turn to him.

“If you take anything from there and touch me with it I’m gonna drive home and leave you here,” you say, and JJ chuckles.

“Be careful, man, she’s bleeding. There’s no telling what she’ll actually do,” JJ says, and he tries to tie the towel around your cut. He’s having a hard time.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” you tell JJ, but he ignores you. Until he laughs out loud.

“A hoe never gets cold,” John B. says from behind you, and JJ remarks, “Hey! I was gonna say that!”

You shake your head and roll your eyes.

“That’s not true. I’m freezing,” you tell the boys, and they both laugh, which fades into silence between you three as John B. puts the kit back under the seat and JJ finishes tying the towel.

There’s a radio station playing ads from the front seat.

“Get in. I’ll close the door,” JJ says, and you scoot backwards as he hops into the back, sliding the door behind him. John B. strategically maneuvers his way into the front of the van. JJ sits next to you, inspecting your fingers and bending them, as if to make sure they’re all in working order.

“You scared us, y’know,” John B. comments from the front. You rest your head on JJ’s shoulders as he notices your scratched palms that have since stopped bleeding.

“It’s okay,” you chide, and JJ runs the pads of his fingers over the cuts.

“It’s just a bad wipeout. It happens all the time to you guys,” you explain, and you feel JJ kiss the top of your head. You pull away to look at him, eyes wide, but he’s not looking at you anymore. He’s watching the rain pelt the window on his side. You two should probably be in seats, but it doesn’t matter at this point.

He refuses to look at you, so you don’t make him. Instead, you place your head back on his shoulder, bring his own palm up to your lips, and plant soft, inaudible kisses there.

You feel him smile as John B. takes his time cruising down the highway.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outerbanks #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj x reader #outerbanks imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine #chase stokes x reader #chase stokes x y/n #chase stokes imagine #john b x reader #john b x you #john b x y/n #john b outer banks #john b

1K notes · View notes

helenazbmrskai · 3 years

Text

It’s all timing - pjm

– If you’re searching for a light and fluffy read well, this won’t be your cup of tea so continue with caution darlings! –

Title – It’s all timing

Pairing – cold husband! Jimin x clocksmith! OC

Genre – fantasy, romance, extreme amount of angst, time travel, smut, marriage, established relationship, Ceo, exes to lovers

Summary – I learnt the hard way that marriage can change a person. I would have never thought that an old watch will let me have a glimpse of my ex-husband’s world but don’t be mistaken I’m not here to fix things. I’m here to change it.

Warning(s) – Jimin is not a loveable character here (until way way later), cheating, mentions of emotional abuse and manipulation, falling in and out of love, the past and present clash a lot, different timelines that may be confusing, this is going to be a wild ride girls and boys, themes of depression and sadness, feeling of worthlessness, and self-image distortion, numbness, discussion of not wanting to have children. Unedited.

Word Count – (5.2k)

[21st March 2021]

Things between us were not always complicated. Our friendship was always exceptional even when friends fought and sought different ways after freshman year at the local Community College, Jimin and I were glued to each other’s side and maybe that’s why no one was surprised as we announced our plans to get married after we graduated.

The new world that greeted us after we finished high school only seemed meaningful because I had Jimin by my side. At that time I had no idea I’ll fall for him this hard, he literally became the extension of myself, my arms and limbs and the lungs that kept me alive. He was my first serious boyfriend even though I dated a few guys here and there before him but none of those relationships seemed to work out either because of me or the guy. Jimin is someone who could easily have his ways with words so when he decided to show interest in me as in more than friends, it was inevitable that I would give in. He was a wonderful lover in the beginning. Passionate and loving, we had many movie nights that ended up with his hands down my pants as his thick fingers rubbed my clit. He bought me flowers and comforted me when I had a bad day.

His cunning smile could get him out of a lot of trouble. Maybe that’s why I never saw the other side of him that sometimes peeked through his carefully crafted mask. I decided to ignore all the red flags until I found myself in a loveless marriage with a man that I couldn’t recognise anymore. Once I realised what had happened it was already too late.

[12nd November 2018]

Jimin hated the fact that I was a heavy sleeper. He even threatened me once that he’ll sleep in the guest room if he had to wake up one more time to my alarm relentlessly ringing while I showed no signs of waking up any time soon.

My workspace was on the other side of town. The rent was cheap so it was worth the extra miles and the full tank of gas in my car but because of it I had to wake up extra early so I could finish showering then I would go to the kitchen to make lunch for Jimin to take with him to work and still have enough time to get ready with a freshly brewed coffee in one hand and toast in the other. Even after our first year in marriage passed by like a flash, Jimin continued to be his affectionate self, he showered me with kisses and felt needy for my touch.

It was one of our best years together. Jimin started to get more involved with his father’s company and my workshop began to gain more popularity to my greatest surprise. While I was working on an old clock that was brought into my shop by an old married couple a few hours ago my focus kept wandering back to this morning. Smiling under my nose as I thought back to why I was late to open up my little workshop this particular morning.

Jimin likes to be spontaneous he always calls me a bore when I hesitate to try out new things but this time he did not have to do much convincing before I agreed. It was weirdly satisfying to wake up to Jimin’s head buried between the juncture of my thighs, shaking and aroused even though I couldn’t feel or hear him do all those sinful things to me while I was asleep. I didn’t feel him take off my panties or lift the covers to expose my bare centre to his hungry eyes and when our gazes met he proudly told me how well I took his fingers even while I was unconscious.

Experimenting was not something I was willing to do before Jimin showed me the appeal of trying out new things. With him by my side, I felt invincible like I could conquer the world if he stays next to me holding my hand tight.

We outlived all expectations. They said high school sweethearts don’t last, well, we did. Even though both of our parents were against the idea of us marrying each other so young we ended up doing just that. Jimin proposed after we got our diploma and I said yes. We lived together as roommates throughout all those years we spent together studying and we moved in together after both of us got our first jobs as postgrads.

I was happy it felt like we were at the top of the world but if I had known that after that year everything will go downhill I would have tried to be happier.

[24th December 2019]

Do you know what are the telltales of cheaters? Well, it starts with subtle changes in his behaviour, you begin to see him less he makes up excuses of having too much work to do or stress so that he could avoid your advances.

He tries to make it up to you with expensive gifts but they mean nothing after the tenth impersonal present because all you would ever want is his attention and love instead of those pathetic attempts of showing their devotion with empty words. The last and most important one on the list is the new anonymous contact on his phone that shows several phone calls and text messages back and forth for hours.

Jimin did all of those.

He stopped experimenting with me. He would fuck me from behind even when I told him I want to see his face. No foreplay, no more cute nose kisses and breathless laughs between the acts of lust and playful wandering fingers.

He no longer cared if I finished first or not at all because after he was done it meant it was over. Jimin took a shower and crawled into bed facing away from me now that this task was taken care of. After the fifth time that he left me hanging, I gathered all the courage that’s left in me to stop his hands from dipping under my pants. I felt disgusted and used he made me think I’m a mere fucktoy that he can discard once it lost its appeal.

I had one of the worst days at work. The clock I was working on was missing a crucial part that I could only import from abroad and the man who wanted it fixed told me to don’t bother because he can’t afford such an expensive repair. It was not something that I could control, the clock was antique for fucks sake. He left without paying for my services even though I told him it was not the only part that I needed to change.

On my way home, a drunk man almost crashed into me with his Sedan and it left me a little shaken up, it was justified to feel the way I was and when Jimin tried to make a move on me by groping my breasts without asking permission first I just snapped.

Not one to back up he snapped right back and it led to one of our ugliest fights. I couldn’t believe the words he so carelessly let out from between those poisonous lips. We had quarrels before every couple has that, it’s normal to disagree to some extents but he went too far this time around. It’s not just the words that left me a crying mess on our bedroom floor with snot stuffing my nostrils, sniffing and rubbing the tears from my swollen eyes. I broke down once I heard the front door shut with a force that made the windows shake. It was past midnight when I heard shuffling and muffled voices, I knew Jimin was back so I cracked the door open just enough to peek into the dark living room.

It was not just Jimin, the smell of alcohol penetrated my nostrils as I watched my husband with disgust, making out with a girl in our shared apartment. I couldn’t believe the audacity he had to bring this chick back where we’re supposed to live together, it was just too much. Hearing him ram into her from the guest bedroom while I cried in our shared bedroom with just one wall separating us. I bet he didn’t even hear the front door closing while I dialled my friend’s number to pick me up. He couldn’t have heard that over that girl’s loud moaning.

I don’t remember when I finally stopped crying in my friend’s arms. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what happened. It was enough humiliation to witness my once loving husband come home with a quick fuck after a fight, it doesn’t matter that he was reeking of expensive shots of alcohol. It didn’t make his actions any less painful.

My heart broke into a million more pieces when I saw him calling me the next day. I didn’t have the guts to pick up, all I could see was him kissing another girl. I bet he was so drunk that he couldn’t remember anything, I wonder if he yelled at the girl in the morning to get the fuck out once he realised it’s not me who lays beside him. Wishful thinking on my part, he probably fucked her in the morning too just before he called me.

Somi finds my body doubled over her toilet throwing up water since it’s been a while I last ate. She helps me through it and gently gathers my hair into a loose ponytail so I won’t get any in my hair as beads of sweat and tears are rolling down my face. My body works on autopilot going through the cleaning motions as I take a burning hot shower and then lay down to get some rest. My body aches and the fatigue is evident in every lazy flutter of my lashes.

I hear his voice, pleading to my friend to let him see me. Now it’s dark outside, it must be hours that I slept through. Somi denies that I’m here and I’m thankful for her quick understanding, the last thing I want right now is to face him. Even though I never told her what happened between us she could sense that it’s more than just a little lovers quarrel.

Our second anniversary would have been next month but instead of roses and kisses next to a dimly lit dinner table, there’s only a big envelope with papers. Divorce papers. The first time he sees me after a month of silence is to have his signature that would end this relationship for good. Today should have been a nice memory filled with laughter and passionate lovemaking. Maybe we were never meant to find each other. Better off as friends, these simple yet powerful words might have saved our future back then if one of us were brave enough to say it.

Jimin looks worn out, it’s obvious he rushed here from his office once you called, he wears his formal attire. He didn’t think you would show up even though it’s supposed to be the day that you should celebrate another year of marriage.

The papers lay heavy on his side of the table as he skims through the content he sees that you already signed your part. He picks up the pen that I prepared in advance, his hands are shaking almost crushing the poor stationery in half with the strength that he holds it.

”I don’t want to d-divorce.” It’s the first sentence that he says to me. His lips are quivering and fat tears are rolling down his cheeks by the time he dares to look into my eyes. I’m however are past the point of shedding crocodile tears. I cried over him enough times to make my face feel numb and puffy with the amount of sadness that poured out of my body in pathetic waves. I can’t keep eye contact for long as his face keeps reminding me of that night I tried so hard to erase from my memory this past month. A part of me is furious seeing him cry, he was the one who sealed out fate. He has no right to feel sad or plead with me to give him another chance.

”If you ever loved me, you will sign it. I give you a week to do the right thing.” With those last words, our anniversary ended.

[13rd October 2020]

”It’s been a whole year after your divorce, don’t you think it’s time to get yourself out there again?” So this is why she wanted to see me I realise.

I know Somi means well, but I dread those words coming out of her mouth every once in a while. If I think about it she was always good at choosing the worst timing to bring the subject up. She’s not aware that this particular day holds a lot of those sour memories that I once cherished. This day was once one of the most important days to me, to us.

Today is Jimin’s Birthday, it’s the first time since we became friends and then later lovers that we don’t spend this day together anymore. I don’t know how to feel about it yet. I used this new year to heal from my wounds that the love of my life left behind. Getting used to living alone after living with someone for so long was tough. I caught myself making more food than I needed or when I was shopping I got those yoghurts that Jimin loves so much even though I’ve always hated the taste of those. I end up throwing them out at home. I blocked his number and any kind of social media that I could think of from the top of my head. The silence between us was crushing at first, I thought that there are no more tears left to shed but when I got our divorce papers from my attorney I couldn’t stop the new waves of tears from escaping.

Yet all my efforts seem to be in vain as my mind keeps going back to him. I catch myself wondering how he’s doing. If he feels as shitty as me even after a full year apart. If he ever wished things would have been different between us. I just wanted to know if he ever regretted destroying our marriage because of another girl. I don’t know if they are together or not or if he dates her now that I’m out of the picture but it’s better left this way. I’m already heartbroken, seeing him again would just open up my barely healed wounds.

”Can we not talk about this today? I’m feeling kinda low right now.” I sigh, shaking my head habitually if only it would make me stop thinking about him. There’s an old fashioned watch with a silver-coated socket in front of me, it’s pretty. A middle-aged woman brought it to me today telling me that it was a gift from his grandfather but it was never in working condition. She went to several locksmiths over the years but no one could fix it so she asked at last that I would be willing to pay for it. I found it interesting so I agreed to buy it from her. I started working on the old watch and at the beginning, it didn’t want to tick even when I made the necessary changes. I just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it when seemingly it didn’t have anything that needed to be fixed.

On my way home after a rough day at work, I bought some soju from the corner convenience store so I could at least get drunk enough to sleep through the whole night. The pills my therapist prescribed for me doesn’t seem to work at all nowadays.

I placed the watch down onto my bedside table and pulled the comforter over my drunk head. I heard the loud ticking of a clock but I don’t remember having one on the wall. I thought that my drunk mind probably was still hung up on the fact that I couldn’t even fix a simple watch so I shrugged the noises off and closed my eyes until red dots filled my vision.

I just need some sleep.

[13rd November 2018]

”Wake up, baby. You’ll be late again.” There’s a kiss on my shoulder then on my temple as warm hands turn me around in bed. It feels oddly familiar to have two hands around my waist that pulls me into a hard chest, blond fluffy hair fills my vision once my eyelashes flutter open.

I’m back in our shared bedroom at his lavish apartment that’s a lot better than the shitty apartment that I was able to afford after our messy divorce. Divorce? Wait. A. Fucking. Minute. What is Jimin doing here holding me? It’s been too long that I saw him but he looks oddly young here, the Jimin I last saw started to get wrinkles and lost a bit of weight but this man reminds me of the boy I fell in love with. I remember getting drunk last night but I’m sure even at the state I was in I couldn’t get here on my own and I don’t remember getting a taxi or even getting up from my bed last night. I frantically search for my phone that I conveniently find on the nightstand, speechless as I watch Jimin stretch like we just didn’t share a bed together after one year of not seeing each other. He shouldn’t look so relaxed while I panic internally.

Then I see the date as my phone screen activates with my touch. I don’t use this phone anymore, I got another one after I blocked Jimin’s number because this device was a birthday present from him that kept reminding me of, well, him so I decided to change it even though I couldn’t afford a similar model like this with my single salary. I remember this day like it only happened yesterday it was around the time that he got a good position at his father’s company and we were both invited to a found raiser event. I bought this beautiful red dress that he eagerly ripped off of me once we were back at home slightly buzzed on the champagne.

It doesn’t make sense though. The only explanation that I can come up with is that I might be still drunk and I’m hallucinating of some sort after all it was just yesterday that Jimin’s birthday made me think about us again.

I lock myself into the bathroom. Sighing in relief once I am able to get away from Jimin’s inquiring eyes. He looked so confused when I refused to kiss him on the lips. I always kissed him goodbye before I went to work when things were still good between us. I just don’t know what to make of things right now, I’m so confused. It doesn’t feel like a dream at all and Jimin acts like he’s my husband rather than my ex-husband who cheated on me.

I splash some water on my face to calm down my nerves and I gasp when I look at my reflection in the mirror. My hair, it’s long. I got rid of those long locks after our divorce was done, Jimin liked my hair like this, long and curly, so I decided to cut it short.

”Baby, did you bring your work home? I don’t remember seeing this old thing on our nightstand when we went to sleep.” Eyes widening I rip open the bathroom door startling Jimin as I grab the old watch out of his hands. The digits are frozen one at eight and the other at one. 18. 2018? Jimin catches my hand mid-air as I try to slap myself so I could make sure this is not a dream.

”Baby say something. You’re scaring me. Are you alright?” Jimin holds my hand gently thumbs rubbing my skin as his eyes express his worry. It’s been a while since he was so affectionate. He stopped caring for me after he found that girl. I let him pull me into a hug, I missed this. I missed him but this moment doesn’t change the fact that the Jimin I loved so much cheated on me.

I left to go to work earlier than I used to around this time and I know Jimin noticed. I told him to get some takeout for lunch too.

I worked on the clocks hoping that it will distract me but it just made me think of what happened this morning more. Doing it the second time around made the process easier, I knew what was wrong with the clocks before I get them into pieces. I even remembered the young couple who brought an expensive watch to get it more fitted to his arms and he accidentally left his bracelet on my working bench after trying on the watch to see it fits after the adjustments.

Jimin sulked a little after I denied his kisses but he didn’t force me and for that I was thankful. He nagged me even when we were surrounded by his father’s workers at the found raising event to tell him what made me ’mad’ at him because he wants to apologize properly if he did something wrong. I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t just tell him he should apologize for something he will do in the future, it will just make me the weird one.

I was nervous to go home after the event because I remember how this night was supposed to end. My hand tightens around his arm when I see her approach us. I feel my stomach sink when she smiles at the both of us, introducing herself as Jimin’s coworker. I didn’t remember meeting her here but at that time I had no idea she’ll be the one who my husband cheats on me with. It was dark that day but I remember her blonde hair and her voice. I remember her moaning Jimin’s name.

”Y/N?” I snap my head towards the sound of his voice. He looks concerned it’s not the first time tonight that he had to repeat what he said. I feel sick, my body subconsciously leans on him to get a grip of reality.

I realised this is when it began. Her smile is anything but genuine as she fakes her concern, I can see the jealousy in her dark orbs as she watches my hand around my husband’s arm. She wanted him for herself all this time. She just doesn’t know yet that she succeeded a year after. A tear slid down my cheeks but I aggressively got rid of it before it could reach my chin. Jimin caged me between his strong arms drawing soothing circles onto my back but it doesn’t affect my body positively how it used to I cried harder inside his arms.

Jimin excused us and she relented even though it was clear as day that she wanted to send me daggers through her stare rather than her wishes for me to get better. The car ride was silent, he didn’t let go of my hand and I let him. I let this version of Jimin comfort me because he didn’t do anything wrong, not yet. He had no idea that this was our last happy years spent together before everything went downhill after that.

He held me in his arms.

[5th March 2019]

After my revisit of 2018, I realised a few things. Firstly, I can travel between time with that old watch that only seem to works for a short period of time until it stops at the year I want to visit. The second thing I learnt is that Jimin can be manipulated with the right words. I decided after that night I saw her face raging with malice and jealousy that I’ll find out what really had happened between them. I know Jimin loved me even though I had doubts about it after our divorce. I knew him well we spend so much time together as friends even before we started dating. However, I never thought he would go so low as to cheat on his wife.

He was always gentle and understanding with me. Accepting the fact that I didn’t want to have children. He loved them but accepted me for who I was and never questioned why I felt this way. He was a good man, a good husband.

So I decided to watch him from afar and when she thought no one was looking, she showed her teeth like a venomous snake planting ideas into Jimin’s head talking shit about me, twisting my actions and words; going as far as telling him she thinks I am cheating on him! I know those pictures were fake as I did no such thing. I was so in love with him I would never betray him like that.

Then I remembered his odd change in behaviour, how he treated our once lovemaking sessions as fucking. How he couldn’t look into my eyes while he buried his dick inside my cunt made sense in a way now.

He thought I was the one who played him. He let himself believe that I was late from our dinners because I was fucking someone behind his back and when I told him I’m not in the mood to have sex. He got even angrier he thought that if I lied to his face he will show me what pain feels like by fucking that snake in our guest bedroom. My head was swimming overwhelmed with this information.

The truth hurt like hell.

I thought I will feel somewhat better once I discovered the truth but I feel even shitter. Jimin believed her, he didn’t bother to ask me if I was indeed cheating on him but can I really blame him? I didn’t ask either when I suspected it. We let our insecurities and that jealous bitch stand in between our marriage making it crumble down to pieces. I was angry, raging as my hand shook with it and it led me back to that day it happened. It felt too late to fix things so I closed my eyes and turned the clock. Leaving everything behind. Once and for all.

There’s nothing left for me to change in our past, I can’t fix our past mistakes but maybe I could change things in the future. Starting with exposing that snake. I wasn’t even surprised to see her as the head of the newly developed department.

[11st April 2021]

Jimin took over the firm after his father fell ill as I got to know from her assistant. I could tell she was surprised to see my face but even more surprised to realise it’s not Jimin’s whereabouts that I want to know but rather hers.

I shouldn’t be this smug about the fact that he cut all ties with her after our divorce. Deep down he was still a good man who couldn’t believe the fact that he fucked someone else while his wife cried next door with just one thin wall separating them.

I pictured this moment in my head a lot after I came back from the past. I’m way past the hurt and anger that settled in my bones for a full year and even before that. Instead, I felt eerily calm for someone who’s here to put up a show for the employees. I don’t even care if they think I’m crazy because once I locate her in her cubicles and dig my hair into her scalp pulling her hair hard with my iron grip all I could feel is utter satisfaction.

”I hope you enjoyed your good fuck. Was it satisfying to make my husband a cheater? I bet it was. Did you think I will never find out that you fed him lies and spread rumours about me sleeping around with men?”

Even the security watched as I pulled her by the hair the commotion around us almost drowned out the crying noises she made because of the pain. I didn’t pull that hard though, I hate her with every fibre of my being but I’m not a malicious person like her. She would deserve worse than what I’m doing but I never want to go down to her level ever again so I let her go.

”How did you found out?” She looked pale as a ghost. I know she was scared she had every right to be because I’m sure I have that crazy look in my eyes.

”It doesn’t matter. What does matter, however, is that now I know what you did to him. All for what? Just to have him all to yourself? Look how that turned out for you.” The people around us fell silent that’s how I knew Jimin is here. So I took a step closer to her and smiled.

”I never cheated on him but you know this well. This is not even why I feel so angry. The reason why I want to rip your hair out right this instant is not because you spread lies and badmouthed me but because you made him a cheater.”

It’s his first time seeing me after our divorce but I’ve been seeing him these past weeks thanks to the old watch. This time around I was able to look into his eyes and see that boy I fell in love with. We went through so much together, maybe.

Maybe we can overcome this too.

#jimin angst #btsghostie #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts angst #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin x oc #jimin #bts

54 notes · View notes

zotlel · 3 years

Text

Fall Into You (M) - 02

pairing: jaebeom x you

genre: romance, angst, series, eventual smut

synopsis: Your love life has been filled with nothing but bad experiences. Determined to give up on the idea of finding the one you meet a man who is desperate to change your mind and have you see him as more.

word count: 5.0k

Your skull feels as if it weighs over a hundred pounds, while your body was floating down a murky river of despair. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes. All you know in this moment is that you need water. Now.

Mustering up as much strength as humanly possible you swing your leg from your bed and hurry over to your bathroom. Hangovers are when you are at your lowest as a human. Craning your neck under your sink faucet you try to capture as much water as possible and allow it to slide down your throat. Once satisfied you shut off the water and try to steady yourself. Peeling one eye open at a time you notice that you were still in last night’s attire and also neglected to remove one of your boots.

Last night? What happened last night?

Your brain begins to reel back in time to remember just how exactly you became as blackout drunk as you did. Last night, you can remember that Sofie and you were going to one of Dominic’s new restaurants, Jake couldn’t come.

Okay, yes, this is good, now what else?

You neglected to eat dinner since you were worried about feeling bloated in your tight pants you were wearing. Opening your eyes again you look down at your jean-clad legs to confirm this much was true, and that also explained why you became so drunk so quickly. Dominic kept sending over tequila shots, his way of trying to harass you for the night the two of you hooked up while drunk off tequila, but you could never reject free drinks.

And then something else, something important happened.

A man!

Yes, that was it, a man came and sat in the booth with you when Sofie said she wanted to leave. You remember talking a lot to him and thinking he was incredibly handsome, but God you just could not remember his face or name for that matter.

His lips pressed deeply against yours as he cradled your cheek, heat spread over your body as desire licked at your loins.

The flashback of kissing a total stranger last night has you smacking your forehead in embarrassment. How can you not even remember who you kissed last night? Did it stop there? Or did you also sleep with this man?

Jesus, you really were a train-wreck.

You groan to yourself when suddenly you hear something coming from your bedroom. Dread fills your body as you slowly turn to find the cause of the noise. This really could not be happening to you right now. Slowly you make your way to your bedroom to see a stray man with dark hair stretching his limbs in the morning light. Well, that confirmed your precious worries of whether or not you had sex last night. You never stayed the night with men, let alone in your bedroom, you must have been drunk out of your mind.

You stay still in the doorway as you watch the man slowly turn to meet your eyes. Not only was there a strange man in your bed, but it just had to be him. Jaebeom smiled lightly at you while rubbing the remnants of sleep out of one eye. You felt as if you were going to be sick.

“Hey, did you sleep okay?” Jaebeom asks you in his gruff morning voice.

You suddenly felt so exposed, so vulnerable, even while still in your clothes you felt as if you were naked to a crowd of a thousand eyes. His eyes were light, and slowly your memories of last night began to stitch together. Sofie wanted to leave when Jaebeom noticed you two, he had approached you wanting to apologize for New Year’s, but you were more interested in him than hearing any sort of apology. You talked for what felt like hours while he just listened and looked at you, with those same twinkling eyes. You may have also cried, hard to say for sure.

“U-Uh yes, fine,” you cough awkwardly. How can you be standing in the same room with someone you cried in front of and then proceed to fuck? The discomfort was sweeping through your body like a tidal wave, “I’m really sorry for last night.”

“Trust me there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Jaebeom says as he starts to fix your bedding.

How could you let this happen? Was your self-discipline really so low that you would go back on your word about no hookups in a mere week? Albeit that Jaebeom happened to be one of the most gorgeous men you have seen, it was no excuse. This was your time for healing and being alone, just like Sofie said. How can you ever be trusted?

“Everything okay? You look like you’re about to be sick,” Jaebeom must have noticed the worsening expression on your face as you scolded yourself internally. You bring a hand to your forehead attempting to get a grip of reality. The world felt as if it was spinning and flipping all around you like you were in some sort of tortuous drying machine.

“I’m just feeling really shitty. I think it’s best if you leave,” you tell him.

To your surprise, Jaebeom nods his head in understanding and begins to make his way past you towards your bedroom door without any sort of complaint. You figure it would probably be best to walk him through the hall to your front door just in the case of your roommate being scared to death by a stranger in the apartment. Silently you tread behind Jaebeom, his shoulders were wide as they sloped past your narrow hallway, you couldn’t help but admire.

As the two of you begin to reach the door Jaebeom suddenly stops and turns to you. He says nothing as he only just stares into your eyes. You began to feel so small in his presence, the way his eyes looked so desperately at your own, searching for something you knew you didn’t have. With shame filling your body you instead turn your eyes to the floor, Jaebeom realizes your discomfort and reaches his hand to the doorknob.

Still, with his back to you, he says something just loud enough for your ears, “If you ever need anything, call me. I saved my number in your phone.”

“S-Sure, thanks I will,” your body feels hot at his words, he nods once before leaving your apartment, shutting the door softly behind him.

You stand there unable to move from your spot as you process everything that just happened. Your hookup with Jaebeom, your lack of memory, his genuine concerning tone, and most of all how kind he was. Your brain felt like mush as you struggled to get a grip on this strange man. In your whole history of one-night stands, this one was by far the most confusing for you.

Once you are able to clear these headache-inducing thoughts from your head you look up and see you have just about twenty minutes until you have to be at work. As if an alarm went off in your brain you begin to hurry down the hall and speedily rid yourself of the remnants from the night before. As much as you did enjoy the occasional, oh who were you kidding, the frequent cocktail, you prided yourself in always being professional and punctual when it came to your career. Let’s face it, you were a competent woman playing in a man’s world and those people would do anything to see you knocked down a peg.

You make quick work of straightening out your business attire and smoothing your hair into a low bun, you could worry about makeup while on the subway. You leave the door in a huff and begin to make your way to the station. All the while you could not help but try to rack your brain about the events that happened the previous night.

You moaned softly into his ear as he began to slip his fingers inside your panties, dripping with desire he slowly drew a finger around your arousal.

Your hand that had been applying mascara stops at the memory. You sit dazed while the subway softly rocks you back and forth as it trugs along the underground tracks. This was bad. Not only did you sleep with Jaebeom, but you also very much enjoyed it according to your memories. The moments the two of you shared were incredibly vivid in your mind. But oh, did you long for his touch. It hadn’t even been twelve hours since the encounter but your body was already yearning for the way his body felt on yours.

Fuck, this was bad, you thought.

You could deal with all kinds of men and the memories they left you with. The memories of disgust, anger, heartbreak, even resentment. But you had absolutely no idea what to do with this feeling of longing. Longing for a man you barely knew was not something you were going to allow yourself. Was your resolve really this weak?

The subway announces the arrival of your stop breaking your internal melodrama and effectively allowing you to shift your gears into work-mode. If you can just get through this workday you will probably never even have to see that man again. And if you did then you were going to tell him exactly how you felt.

No not felt, what you knew.

You know that for both of your sanities you could not even begin to humor the idea of having any sort of relationship with him. You were not looking for any sort of man in your life. Whether that be a boyfriend or a friend with benefits type. You needed time alone, and for him to enter your life at this time is just wrong on every level.

You settle into work easily enough once you reach your office. The familiarity of your workspace helped kick any lingering thoughts out the door. The sounds of quick fingers against keyboards, a smell of old coffee and ink cartridges fluffing through the air, and of course the heavy stares of your male colleagues as they picked apart your every step. You pay them no mind as you settle into your office and log into your desktop.

“Would you care for some coffee Ms. L/N?” Stacy, the new intern had just popped her head into your office the moment you sat. Stacy was smart and diligent, she stayed late to do the higher-up’s paperwork and always made sure to hold her tongue. Good girl. It just upset you dearly that a person of her capabilities was stuck with no pay and fetching coffee.

“Yes Stacy, thank you for asking,” you replied back.

She smiled sweetly at you before exiting your office. Waiting not a second longer you begin to check your work email as usual responding to your clients. Your fingers ran fast across your keyboard as you simultaneously would respond and keep one eye on the market to see if you had lost any money for any of your investors. The green arrows that flowed steadily at your bottom screen gave you a sense of relief as you began to allow yourself to sink into your work and forget about everything else.

To some, the work you do may seem dull. You understood why exactly they would think that, but it was so far from the truth. You found such a thrill in the way the stock market worked. The uncertainty of it all kept you hungry to know more. Because let’s face it, nobody, not even stock managers like yourself, knew if you were about to lose all of your assets or turn someone into a millionaire. It was quite a thrill for you, and if you were being quite honest, you had a damn good intuition about these types the things. Which is how you became the youngest stock manager in your division with a million-dollar reputation at your back, but you weren’t much for bragging.

You would question yourself as you looked around the room at your coworkers. Most of whom lived in penthouses and rolled up to work in their glittering Mercedes. How was it that you carried most of the company’s reputation on your back alone, yet you were still living in a two-bedroom flat in the meat-packing district? You looked up from your computer as you remembered, no woman as competent as yourself has come as far as you have in this company. Therefore you had to tread a new road for younger women who would surely come after you.

Stacy walks into your office quietly as she leaves a fresh coffee on a coaster near your workstation. You forced a tight smile as a thank you. You had to pave the road for people like her. Because here was a brilliant mind fresh from Harvard business and yet her biggest responsibility was remembering how everyone took their coffee.

You try to ignore these disgruntled feelings as suddenly your phone begins to ring. Snapped from your thoughts you reach for the device to answer the call.

Before you speak a gruff voice is heard through the speaker, “Y/N can I see you in my office?”

Your boss’s voice is low as it rumbles out the request. Right away, you tell him as you set the phone back down and begin to make your way towards his office abandoning your fresh coffee. You make your way towards the end of the younger manager’s offices until you are perched directly in front of massive double doors. You knock twice before entering, seeing your boss up from his desk gazing out of his floor-to-ceiling window.

Mr. Hobbes was considered a young man for his CEO position at your company. You were never sure of his exact age due to his overwhelming need to keep his life as private as possible. His hair was just on the brink of becoming an ashy tone but still had flicks of golden locks throughout. Hobbes was always nicely shaven and had a distinct green smell that just screamed “wealth.” He was one of the only men in the office who never tried to hit on or belittle you. Therefore, he was tolerable.

“Come join me,” Hobbes calls out to you, never looking away from his window.

With a deep sigh, you make your way over to stand near him and overlook his office view alongside him. The two of you stood silently next to each other and just watched. The people, cars, birds, and just about everything that made movement outside. It was odd. Standing as close as you were to one of the most powerful men in the country you would think it would shake you. Yet you felt absolutely nothing.

“You have a brilliant mind,” he begins next to you, “Did you know that?

“Haven’t thought too much about it, I just try my best just like everyone else,” you respond back honestly.

At this Hobbes laughs, “You haven’t thought too much about it.”

He then turns to you. His deep turquoise eyes staring you down, blue eyes were your least favorite color. They felt cold and distant, madness could be hidden behind them. Hobbes’s eyes were different, instead of the cold, you could feel a warm breeze on an ocean. He was a comfortable person to be around.

“Well, would it be terribly rude of me to start asking you to think about it? To think about your future,” he asks you.

“Not rude at all, I would just like to know your reasoning behind these questions.”

Your boss walks away from the window to take a seat at his large mahogany desk. Wordlessly he requests you to sit across from him in one of the smaller chairs. You make your way over to sit politely hoping to God he couldn’t tell that you got dressed in less than five minutes this morning.

“I want to make you the head of recruiting,” Hobbes says to you.

You can’t help but let your eyes widen at his words. Head of an entire department. Sure you were good at what you did but you had only been working at this company for three years. This was surely too soon for such a big promotion.

“Head?” You ask him again to which he nods. “Sir, with all due respect, am I not under qualified for that sort of position?”

“I don’t give a damn about qualifications or years of experience. I care about numbers, and yours are good, no, they’re the best.” He begins to say, “I need more brilliant minds like yours so I figure why not take the best manager we’ve got and have her show the newbies how it’s done.”

To say you were complimented would be an understatement. You were shocked that Hobbes felt this way about you. While working at the company he mostly had kept to himself, rarely would you see him out on company dinners or even speaking during meetings. He was withholding so much power that you never dared to get on his bad side.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything yet,” Hobbes says. “Take time to think about it and come back to me with an answer by the end of the quarter.”

You nod your head at this, thanking him first you begin to stand and make your way towards his door. Before you are able to leave, your boss calls your name, you turn to see he had been following close behind.

“Don’t let yourself think you are incapable,” he tells you. “I know talent when I see it and you’ve got it, Kid.”

You smile bashfully trying to avoid his eye contact. He laughs lightly at you before patting your shoulder gently in an encouraging way. You then turn to walk away once more and return to your office.

“That’s a good girl,” Jaebeom whispers in your ear as you feel his cock penetrate your dripping core from behind.

You turn back around shocked and look at your boss. Hobbes was staring curiously at your expression waiting for you to speak.

“I’m sorry did you say something?” You ask, afraid for the answer.

“I said you’re a smart girl Y/N,” he smiles lightly before turning his back to you and returning to his desk.

Your cheeks are hot from the misunderstanding as you quickly make your way to leave his suffocating office. Quick feet down the hallways as you desperately try to reach your office without having anyone notice your frazzled state. Slamming your office door your back meets the cool surface as you try and regain your normal heart-rate from the erotic memory.

You put your head in your hands to attempt to grab a hold of your subconscious. This situation was worse than you thought. How can one night of sex with Jaebeom be haunting you this much? Was it really that incredible? You sit back as you laugh at your own question. It was more than incredible. It was the best you have ever had.

You decided it would probably be best for you to drown yourself in work for the rest of the day. You needed so desperately for something to help distract you from your wandering mind, thank God statistics and economics had absolutely no sex appeal.

Time ticked on throughout your office. Your eyes stayed glued to your desktop screen but you could tell that the lights had begun to dim settling into the night around you. Fellow workers could be seen stretching their sore limbs high in the air before they gathered their things to leave. Quiet goodbyes were exchanged amongst the masses as everyone decided their life outside of this office would be a much greater place to be.

You on the other hand could not let yourself be spared a single moment to yourself. It was the moment when the sensory lights had triggered to turn off in your office that you finally took in your surroundings. Once again you were the only person left in the office. With a big sigh you lean far back in your chair, elongating your spine against the back of the chair you begin to finally feel the exhaustion in your body.

Deciding it was probably best for you to leave, you quickly gather your things and make your way out of the building. The bitter January air had you holding your coat closer to your body to try and conserve as much heat as possible. The other people passing you along the street seemed unaffected by the weather, it was after all a Friday night. Your workplace happened to be in the dead-center of the hippest club scene in your city. It was fun for you to watch people as you made your way to the underground subway station. With your headphones in, a soft calming melody played to assist in healing your slight headache as you watch young men and women laugh and hang off one another. You smile lightly admiring the way they all looked so alive and happy.

The ride through the subway was nothing out of the ordinary. You would occasionally catch yourself dozing off only for the loud blaring station announcements to wake you from your short-lived slumber. On your cold walk home from the subway station to your apartment, you couldn’t help but think about how nice a hot shower sounded.

Lost in your own world you hardly notice there was a certain new constant man in your life sitting on the front steps of your apartment. Quickly you remove your earphones from your ears, just then he notices your presence. Jaebeom looks up to you, smiling slightly, he rises to his feet until he is standing right in front of you. He smells like spring rain.

“Jaebeom, what are you doing here?” Suddenly feeling incredibly insecure about your appearance under his hot stare you make quick work to smooth down your frizzy hair.

“I just needed to talk with you,” he says, the heat of his words causing a cloud to release with it in the chill of the city night.

“About what?”

He laughs slightly at your accusatory tone. Jaebeom takes in the scenery around him, the dimly lit neighborhood streets illuminated where the two of you stood. Softly rubbing the back of his neck Jaebeom tried to calm his own nerves.

“Well, we had a really good time last night, right?” Jaebeom asks you now, looking you directly in the eyes. You blush at this, remembering all the flashbacks you had been getting during your busy workday. It was now your turn to get shy as you look to your feet, too flustered to meet his stare. A slight wind worked its way between your bodies as if to wrap the two of you in one cold embrace.

“I just wanted to come here and ask you properly,” he says, causing you to look up at him curiously. “I wanted to ask you on a proper date.”

Jaebeom speaks while searching your eyes nervously, afraid himself that he may have misread the connection the two of you had. You yourself could not deny the chemistry you felt with Jaebeom. Sleeping together was one thing, but you were nowhere in the right headspace to be dating right now. If only you had met him later when you were fixed.

“Jaebeom I’m flattered really,” you begin to say, already cringing at your lame line. “Us hooking up last night was a mistake on my part. I am not in the right place to be with anyone.”

You continue your rant as Jaebeom looks perplexed.

“Sleeping together, dating… I can’t do any of it right now. So I’m sorry but I just don’t think this,” your hand waves between your two bodies for emphasis. “Is going to happen.”

You realize what you said was harsh. Hell, if you were on the other end of this rhetoric with a guy you really liked you would be crushed. Unfortunately, you had to be this upfront with men. You’ve tried subtly in the past, and somehow these guys just never understood that you were not interested. After much trial and error, you have discovered being upfront, albeit harsh, was the best solution.

“I-” Jaebeom begins to speak but then suddenly laughs. You stare at him with confusion. You expected a certain reaction from him, but laughter definitely caught you off-guard. Jaebeom can hardly contain himself as he turns to try and calm himself. Meanwhile, you stood just waiting to hear his explanation for his strange reaction.

“That explains this morning then I guess…” Jaebeom says to himself causing your patience to dwindle.

“I totally understand you not being ready,” he finally calms himself down enough to speak with you. “But Y/N, we did not hook up last night.”

Your head recoils back in shock and confusion, you stare into Jaebeom’s eyes trying to see if he was somehow using this as some sort of power-play against you. When looking at his eyes though, all you could find was sincerity.

How can this be true? You distinctly remember separate occasions of him from last night while sleeping with him. Come to think of it though, you were fully dressed when you woke up, and so was Jaebeom. Can you even remember coming home with him? Your mind was completely blank.

“After the restaurant, I walked you home,” Jaebeom can sense your confusion from your facial features and decides to fill in the empty space. “Once I got you home you asked me to come inside to make sure you got to bed. You started to get really upset once we got to your room so I lied with you in bed for a bit until you calmed down, and then I must have fallen asleep after then.”

Your cheeks are burning bright red, as you do in fact remember everything Jaebeom just said to be true. You remember sobbing once you got to your bed, you remember asking him to hold you. If you could die from embarrassment, you would already be standing in your grave.

“But I remember things from last night, I remember us kissing and you-” you try and salvage your shameful memories, but have a hard time getting yourself to say that you remember him fucking you.

“And I?”

“You, touching me…” You look up at him and see a tinge of amusement on his face at your shy confession.

“Well I have to say, I am truly flattered you had a very vivid dream about me,” his smirk on his face is accompanied by a red tinge in his cheeks thinking of the two of you becoming intimate.

“But I can assure you we just slept next to each other, I would definitely remember if more happened.”

He laughed lightly clearly finding this whole situation to be just one big misunderstanding. This was so angering for you to hear though. Jaebeom was now openly mocking you in your eyes for the thoughts that attacked you all day.

“I’m so glad you find this amusing, now if you don’t mind I would like to go inside and forget last night ever happened,” your words hold little meaning as the anger controls your tongue.

Jaebeom looks surprised at your reaction as you attempt to move past him. He can now clearly see you did not find this situation funny in the least bit.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jaebeom is frantic as you pass by him trying to reach your door. Softly he grasps your wrist causing you to look back and see his pained expression as he worries if he has hurt you.

“I understand you’ve gone through a lot,” he begins to say. “I just know what that feels like and it’s nearly impossible to go through those feelings alone.”

“You know absolutely nothing about me Jaebeom. Don’t feel special just because I used you as an emotional dumpster when I was too drunk to realize what I was doing.”

You can feel the peak beginning to approach in your anger and it almost scares you. The last time you blacked out from your anger, it took more than apologies to recover the damage.

“You need to back the fuck off,” you spit venom at him.

He seems completely thrown back from your harsh words. His eyes are pleading with you, worrying that he might have upset you beyond repair. Behind all this banter Jaebeom cared for you as a person and he wanted more than anything for you to see him as more than just another man. He would never even think of trying to control or suppress you. He wanted so much more from you, he needed to know so much more.

You were not ready like him. Not ready to leap forth into another unknowing relationship with a man. He was the right person, but now was definitely not the right time.

Silently he lets your wrist go as you hurry inside your apartment. Slamming the door you rest your back against it trying to control your breathing. The look on Jaebeom’s face was hurt. You had hurt him. Regret crawled its way up your chest making you feel absolutely nauseous for the way you handled speaking with him. The man had confessed to you for fucks sake. And you have the audacity to get upset with this complete stranger and hurt him just because you were embarrassed?

This was a new low of yours.

#got7 fanfic #got7 jb #got7 smut #got7 scenarios #jaebeom fanfic #jb fanfic #fanfic #Smut #jaebeom smut #jb smut

108 notes · View notes

shipskicksandgiggles · 3 years

Text

Title: Attention Please

Pairing(s): James "Rhodey" Rhodes x Tony Stark, background Pepper Potts x Natasha Romanov

Summary: There's this one tactic that Rhodey's been trying to use to get Tony to notice him. Somehow, he failed to notice that Tony doesn't get jealous.

Warnings: None

AO3 Link: x

~~~

“Question.”

“Personal or business?”

Pepper perched herself up on one of the breakfast bar stools. “Personal, we’re off the clock.”

“Wonderful. What’s going on?” Tony didn’t even pause prepping dinner.

“When was the last time you got jealous?”

That made him pause. “Of who?”

“Anyone.”

“Context?”

She stole a candy from the bowl he kept on the counter. “I mean, I was thinking in terms of romance, but I’ll take whatever you got.”

Tony frowned and whisked some spices together. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, Pep. I don’t make a habit of getting jealous of people.”

“No, no, I’m sure you’ve gotten jealous. What was his name, that guy from your first year of college?”

“Who, Ty?”

“Yeah him! Didn’t you like him?”

“What are you, 12?” Tony muttered. Truth is, he had liked Ty. He was older and charismatic, and gave Tony all the attention a neglected kid would want. Still, he conceded the point. “Sure, I liked him. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“He told you about that girl he dated didn’t he?”

“Everheart? Yeah, he told me all about her. I proofread the note he asked her out with.”

“And you never got jealous?”

He shrugged.

“Then what about that one girl who rejected you for Rhodey?”

Oh yeah, funny day. “I didn’t know she existed until she looked at my face and said ‘Ew’, Pepper. That was a day and a half for all of us. Anyways, I prefer men and she turned out to be a lesbian. No hard feelings.”

She gave him a look. “I’m not saying it was him you were jealous of.”

“Pepper, knock it off. Nothing ever happened-”

“But it-”

“Moving. On.”

“Fine. Sunset-”

“-Was still in love with her ex. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Justin-”

“Hey now, he actually asked me out.”

“And then played with your heart until you stopped talking to him.”

“Rhodey blocked his number in my phone,” Tony corrected.

“You never got jealous about any of us for being in relationships,” she pointed out.

“Well it’s not like I was ever under the illusion that I was going to be in a relationship with any of you. Do you have a point?”

“Yes! Why don’t you get jealous about this stuff?”

The kitchen timer went off, and he transferred the tofu he was working with into a marinade before shoving it into the fridge and grabbed a covered bowl off the counter, unveiling it to reveal bread dough. He tipped it onto the counter and started kneading.

“I cared about them, Pep. For better or for worse, I cared about their feelings. And the best way to keep them happy was to support them no matter what. So no, I didn’t get jealous and I stayed their friend until they ditched me because even if I couldn’t be the person they loved in the way I wanted, I was still there for them and that was enough.” He started dividing the dough in pieces and refused to look Pepper in the eye. “Plus, in that case with Rhodey, I wasn’t about to be jealous of him for going out with a girl who was disgusted with me. I think he felt worse about it than I did.”

She sighed. “You care too much.”

“I know.”

“Also you used to be into some toxic ass bitches.”

He burst out laughing. “That’s one way to put it, yeah.”

“Hey, listen I gotta go, but this has been an enlightening conversation.”

“Woah, hey, where are you rushing off to?”

“I have a date,” she smirked.

“You do? I thought you just had dinner plans with Nata-?” He gasped. “Virginia Potts, why didn’t you tell me?”

��She fucking told you we had dinner plans?” Pepper hissed. “Fuck.”

“JARVIS as my witness, I think Rhodey just lost a bet.”

“What bet?”

“The bet on when you were going to come out as not-straight. I had it pegged for within the next few months. Rhodey had into next year. I might have to rethink my no-jealousy clause now, actually. I’m just saying, we’re still on the table, honey.”

She leaned over the counter to smack him upside the head. “You’re a menace.”

“I would be your menace, but you decided to finally start dating the girl we all knew you were pining after.”

“I have to go, Tony.”

He held out his hand. “We’d have been a fantastic couple in another life, Ms. Potts.”

“I pity that version of us, Mr. Stark.” She shook his hand and started to walk out the door. “By the way, can you keep this-”

“On the down low? Secret’s safe with me.”

She looked relieved. “Thanks Tony.”

After she left, he continued where he left off. The bread had to rest for another hour and a half before baking, so he had some time.

~~~

“Hey, have you seen Pepper?”

Tony started. “Jesus Christ, where did you come from?”

Rhodey stood in the doorway and chuckled at Tony’s reaction. “The elevator. What are you making?”

“Trying something new. Tofu based, should be good.”

“And the bread?”

“Saw a milk bread recipe I’ve been wanting to try,” he shrugged. “I had a long day, so I wanted to bake something.”

Rhodey hummed and glanced at the mess in the kitchen. “Pepper?”

Tony scrunched up his nose. “In bread? Platypus, please.”

“No, our Pepper. Where is she?”

“Oh, she had plans. Passed through a little bit ago and didn’t stay long.”

“Wasn’t she supposed to go out with Nat tonight?”

Tony hummed as he wiped down the counter, but he said nothing.

“You’re kidding.” He dug his phone out of his pocket.

From Rhodey: You’re finally going out with Nat and you didn’t tell me?

From Pepper: Are you with Tony? I told him not to tell people

From Rhodey: Yes I am, but he didn’t say anything. I’m just smart like that

From Pepper: Incorrect. You’re an idiot

From Rhodey: Excuse you, I graduated from MIT before I was legally allowed to drink

When she didn’t respond right away, he set his phone down and sighed. “How much do I owe you?”

“$50 and your mom’s chili recipe.”

“God fucking damn it.”

“I can’t believe all I needed to finally learn your family secret was for our friends to be idiots! See, this is why I keep you people around.”

Rhodey grumbled as he pulled out his wallet. “I’ll get you the recipe later,” he said as he slammed a few bills on the table.

Tony whooped and pockets the money before scanning the kitchen. “Aw man.”

“Want help?”

“Yes please.”

He walked around the bar and picked up a rag. “Where should I start?”

~~~

With the two of them working, the kitchen was clean in no time. He watched Tony check his timer and nod.

“I don’t have to do anything for another 30-ish minutes if you want to watch Parks and Rec with me.”

Rhodey wiped off his hands and tossed the rag in the bin under the sink. “God forbid I leave you alone with your damn sitcoms.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love this show. You’re a real Ben Wyatt some days, you know.”

He rolled his eyes, but settled into the couch next to Tony anyways while he pulled up the show. “It’s just so weird.”

“That’s the charm, babe.”

Pepper was still radio silent, but Rhodey pulled out his phone anyways.

“You staying in tonight?” Tony asked.

“Probably.”

“No dates planned?”

Dating apps fucking sucked honestly. Rhodey doesn’t know why he uses them. “No, can’t find anyone.”

“That’s fair. Wanna rewatch Rocketman later?”

“Is that a question? Yes always.”

Tony laughed and curled up on the other end of the couch, still poised to run to the kitchen if need be.

Rhodey was only half-paying attention to the show. Season 4 was a frequent rewatch for them, so he didn’t need to focus super hard on it to know what was going on. His focus was more on his phone as he loaded up his dating profile.

“You’re not watching.”

He glanced between Tony and the TV. “Sue me for trying to find a date this weekend. It’s been awhile, you know?”

“That’s more than I needed to know actually. Show me their profile before you swipe right so I can make sure they pass muster.”

He nodded before continuing to scroll. Everyone the app showed him looked exceptionally boring. “How’s this guy?”

Tony took his phone and immediately handed it back. “If he can’t wear jeans that fit right, he’s not good enough for you.”

“His jeans fit. What are you- Oh nevermind you’re right.” He swiped left and showed Tony a few more people.

~~~

“Her foundation is two different colors, you don’t need that shit.”

~~~

“No, we’ve talked about this. Men named Steven are Bad News, with a capital B. And I mean that for all spellings of the name.”

“Tony, that was one time-”

“It was six times, I fucking counted.”

~~~

“Oh lord, I went out with him.”

“And you remember this guy why?”

“Rhodey, I went out with him 10 years ago. I remember because he was the worst sex I’ve ever had, and he was too much of a narcissist to change anything about himself.”

“But 10 years-”

“I slept with him and I have notoriously bad taste. No.”

~~~

“Oh he’s cute. His eyebrows look great.”

“Your ability to judge people based on their eyebrows is unparalleled.”

“I know. If you’re going to swipe right on anyone tonight, he’s your best bet.”

Rhodey hummed and took his phone back. It seemed to be just in the nick on time too. Pepper texted him back right before he could swipe.

From Pepper: That doesn’t matter when you didn’t realize the guy whose attention you’ve been vying for doesn’t get jealous

Doesn’t… doesn’t get jealous? He snuck a look at Tony and found his gaze transfixed to the TV, laughing at something Ron said.

“Hey Tony?”

His head swiveled towards him. “What’s up?”

“When was the last time you went on a date?”

“Uh,” he seemed to think about it and breathed out a long sigh. “It’s been a while I guess.”

“Yeah I know that, but how long?”

“Maybe 6 years? It’s not like I have the time to meet people, and I’m not one for dating apps like you are.” A timer went off and Tony paused the episode before wandering back into the kitchen. “Why, did you see someone I might like?”

“No, just realized I don’t remember the last time you had someone on your arm is all.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know. I have a life, and I have friends too. It’s not like everything’s about romance.”

He snorted. “Obviously I know that, but I don’t even remember the last time you expressed interest in someone.”

Tony set the knife he was holding down slowly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just… you and Pepper are both asking me questions about my love life and neither of you seem to have a point. Did that machine I built last week go off in your faces and make you fixate on romance in a junior high-esque type of way? Because I have Bruce on speed dial if you need help.”

“I’m fine, Tones.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“You know I would.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer and went back to chopping vegetables. Rhodey didn’t say anything else, just studied his face carefully.

Tony never got jealous. It was obvious now that he thought about it. Every time any of their friends had been in a relationship, Tony was relentlessly supportive until things fell apart. When the people he expressed interest in went for someone else, Tony stayed until he was no longer welcome, just to be their friend. He wasn’t malicious about anything, wasn’t dramatic about it, never cried on anyone’s shoulder about not getting the guy.

“What was that?”

Tony asked him a question and he’d missed it. “Did you match with the guy?” he repeated.

Rhodey reopened the app to the face he’d been considering going out with before the text from Pepper. He swiped left and closed out the app before deleting it from his phone entirely.

“Nah, I don’t think it’s meant to be.”

~~~

One thing about Tony was that he was inexplicably good at everything. “There’s a myth you don’t know how to cook.”

“Is there?” Tony smiled as Rhodey took another bite of the dish. “It’s probably because of the omelette incident, right?”

“That or the stereotype of the rich kid who had everything done for them,” Rhodey shrugged. “It’s not their fault they don’t know you were raised by Ana Jarvis’ cooking.”

“It’s a love language,” Tony sighed. “Family means food, and I’d never poison my family with bad cooking.”

“God, but what a way to go.” He snagged a bite of food off Tony’s plate.

“Ah ah ah, you have your own. If you want more, there’s more on the stove,” he tutted. “I know for damn sure your mama didn’t raise you to not mind your manners.”

“I regret letting you meet my mother.”

Tony winked. “Please, she loves me.”

“Yeah, more than me most days, and I’m her fucking kid.”

“As if Peggy didn’t immediately try to adopt you back in the 80s. Legally, you can’t be gay unless you get adopted by your best friend’s parental figure at some point.”

“I thought that was a rule with significant others.”

“Who came up with that rule? Also you have sisters. Your significant other will die.”

“You have Nat. I’m lucky I’m not already dead.”

“It’s because she trusts you.”

“She does?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

He shrugged. “Since she met you. She knew you were a good person and you weren’t afraid to speak your mind. That means a lot to her.”

“I met her because you were being stupid.”

“What else is new? Help me put away the leftovers, won’t you?”

~~~

Everything came back to how much Tony cared.

“You made my popcorn with Junior Mints?”

“Just how you like it, Honey Bear.”

Rhodey had been gone for all of five minutes to put on comfy clothes to watch movies in, assuming Tony was doing the same.

Which he had. He just… also made popcorn the way Rhodey prefers it. Go figure.

“C’mon, movie’s starting.”

He sat on the other end of the couch and tucked his legs to one side.

Elton John was always one of Tony’s comfort artists.

This meant Tony was, for the most part, distracted. Rhodey had forgotten to grab himself a blanket when he sat down, so he tried to move his feet a little closer to Tony when he wouldn’t notice.

By the time Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting started playing, he’d almost succeeded.

Unfortunately, Saturday is Tony’s song. Which meant he wants to dance.

“Platypus…”

“Tones…”

Tony practically dragged him to his feet and made Rhodey twirl him. “Please?”

And because Rhodey couldn’t ever say no, he danced with him. They weren’t good by any means, but it was fun. They were laughing.

By the end of the song, they wound up chest to chest, only heaving slightly from the exertion.

There was a light flush on Tony’s cheeks, and his mouth was slightly open. Gorgeous.

~~~

Nat knew. Well, she knew everything, but she could read Tony like a book. So she knew.

He’d been gone on Rhodey since he was 16 years old.

She found out when they were 20. She’d had her suspicions after the Air Force Lesbian incident she had told him, but Tony hadn’t wanted to say anything to confirm or deny his feelings.

It hurt every time Rhodey found someone to go out with, but he always thought jealousy was an ugly emotion. It didn’t suit him. He tried to be supportive instead.

It worked.

Still, looking up at him, still panting a little from them dancing, he felt that dull pain in his chest all over again. This wasn’t something he could have.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?”

Nat always called him a coward for not doing anything. She was right. It would be easy to just-

“Tony.”

He shook himself back to the present, and started to move away. “Sorry, I-”

Rhodey caught his wrist in his and spun him back. “Maybe I want to keep dancing with you.”

“Oh, okay.”

Neither of them moved.

“I don’t think this qualifies as dancing, Tones. I need your lead here.”

The music coming from the TV was overlapped by talking. It was hard to hear the rhythm.

He didn’t need one.

Their first kiss was soft, almost hesitant.

The weight in Tony’s chest got heavier. His heart constricted in his chest. Oh god, what if that wasn’t what Rhodey meant-

And then Rhodey was pulling him closer and ducking down to kiss him again. “Fuck, I was so stupid.”

“You-” kiss “-were stupid?” kiss “I don’t-” kiss “I was-”

Rhodey shushed him before kissing him long and hard. He leaned back to look at the ceiling, giving Tony access to his jawline. “All I ever wanted was for you to notice me.”

“I always notice you.”

“Wanted your attention.”

“You had it. Have it.”

He let out a shaky laugh and rested his head against Tony’s. “How long?”

“Remember the day we invented DUM-E?”

“That long ago?”

“A week before we finished the code I was using you as a rubber duck. At some point I started cussing it out, and you started laughing at me and I just looked over at you and I knew. Hit me like a train, but I knew I loved you.”

“And you never said anything?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

“Do you remember back when you were 19? When Justin started fucking around with you?”

Tony groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“I thought someone punched me when I saw someone else’s arm wrapped around you. I didn’t realize until two years later that it wasn’t because I wanted to protect you.”

“You’re telling me I could have had this since we were 21?” Tony asked incredulously.

Rhodey’s silent laughter shook both of them, and Tony took the time to admire how happy he looked.

“We’re idiots.”

“Oh yeah.”

“We also have lost time to make up for. JARVIS, pause the movie and back it up to right after Saturday. We can finish it later.”

#ironhusbands #tony stark #james rhodes #tony stark x james rhodes #fluff #getting together #ellis writes

66 notes · View notes