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moonlightlullaby · 3 years

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no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!)

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist.

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is.

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair.

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me.

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen.

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is.

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words.

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp.

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath.

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds.

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task.

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie.

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul.

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n”

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully.

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?”

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?”

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered.

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise.

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions.

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-”

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen.

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

#corpse husband imagine #corpse imagine #corpse x y/n

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

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Chapter 22: How I Met Your Mother

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“Okay, listen up my children!” Kiyoomi announces in the middle of the living room, the kids all looking up to him. “Your mother won’t be around for 3 days-”

Kin starts crying because of his father’s words, taking Sakusa aback. His boy must love you so much since he’s the only who seems affected that you are away. The girls... don’t care.

“Don’t cry! Don’t cry! We are only 30 minutes in and you’re already crying,” Kiyoomi sighs, picking Kin up from the ground.

“You should not have mentioned mama,” Kia scolds him. Kia takes a seat on the couch which Mina and Mira follows. She is their leader, not Kiyoomi. If a hierarchy is made in your house it would turn out like this:

You

Kia

Mina

Mira

Kin

Kiyoomi

Yes. Sakusa Kiyoomi, the provider and the pillar of the house, is at the lowest ranking in your house, simply because he isn’t around all the time. He only goes home once or twice a month, leaving all the childcare and managing of the house to you. The wedding planning is only the side dish of what’s on your plate. He has so much respect for you that he’s willing to lower his pride and hurt his ego.

Kiyoomi is more than happy to take care of the kids for you. You get to rest and he gets to spend time with your children. It’s a win-win situation for the two of you.

“Mama!” Kin cries harder, and Sakusa bounces him on his arm, hoping it will stop him.

“If you stop crying we will go see the fish!” Kiyoomi cheers and Kin stops crying. “We will change now and then go see fish.”

“Really?” Kia questions her father, already old enough to be aware of Kiyoomi’s fear of crowds and germs. She knows that there is no way that their dad will bring the four of them in the aquarium. Especially since it’s a weekend, so it’ll be packed with people.

And Kia was right. Kiyoomi didn’t bring them to the aquarium, but to a small fish market. Kia is disappointed but not surprised. At least Kiyoomi tried, right? “Where’s the fish?” Kin asks, looking around as he sits in his stroller. The place only has a few people and small stalls, which Kiyoomi really likes.

They stop in front of a stall where fish are laid on trays of ice, shocking the twins. Kia just face palms, and Mina is just standing there but is also in disbelief. “What? It’s fish.” Kiyoomi defends himself, shrugging.

“It’s dead,” Mina remarks as she stares at the deceased sea creatures in front of her.

“A fish is a fish,” Kiyoomi argues. Kia scans through the surrounding and spots a small tank with king crabs in it. She points at it so they go to it. Kin and Mira are now out of their stroller and are almost glued to the glass tank. The owner of the shop comes out asks if they’re going to it at the store. Kiyoomi says yes, since the kids look so excited to be seeing crab for the first time.

What he didn’t take in account is that the kids will recognize that the crab they were staring at outside is now their food. Cue the loud crying from Kin and Mira. The number of times Kia has face palmed because of her father is uncountable. Mina is chill, playing with the claws of the cooked crab, making her younger siblings cry even more.

“Stop crying. Try it!” Mina puts a piece of meat in Mira’s mouth and she stops. Kin halts as well, confused why his twin stopped wailing. Kia feeds him the crab and he falls in love with it. Kiyoomi sighs in relief, very thankful that he has reliable daughters.

One task done.

Their lunch finally ends and they head to the toy store. Kiyoomi has already planned to buy kinetic sand for the twins since he can’t bring them to the beach. It’s a scary place. He might be the most cautious guy in the country, but he’s still like any clumsy father. The chances of him losing one kid at that place is high.

“Do you wanna walk?” Kiyoomi asks the twins, not wanting to carry a stroller around. The two nod so he takes out the safety harness and puts it on them. Mina and Kia are holding hands, walking obediently beside their father. The family of 5 enters the store and the kids become excited immediately.

“We can buy anything we want?” Kia asks in awe, which Kiyoomi just nods to. “Let’s go Mina!”

“Don’t go with strangers, okay?” Kiyoomi tells them as the two run off somewhere in the store. He picks up tubs of kinetic sand, clay, and slime. Then, he follows the twins around the store, picking up whatever they seemed interested in.

“You want that toy car?” Kiyoomi asks Mira, picking them up from the ground so they can see a clearer view of the toys. Kin points at a toy gun at another shelf. “I’m sorry, buddy, but you can’t use that yet, and maybe your mama will shoot me using that if she finds out I bought you one.”

As Kiyoomi and the twins are picking more stuffed animals, Kia and Mina come running towards him. “Papa! Papa! Can I buy a bike?” Kia pleads, tugging on Kiyoomi’s pants. He takes a deep breath in before agreeing to his eldest daughter.

“Where are your toys?” Kiyoomi asks them, seeing that the two girls are empty handed.

“I only want a bike and Mina wants a picture book,” Kia answers. Kiyoomi furrows his eyebrows in disappointment, but in his mind he’s actually really happy that the girls seem to be taking saving into consideration.

“Are you sure?” Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow at them.

“Can I buy a skateboard too...?” Kia shyly requests, doing a cute pose. Kiyoomi chuckles and agrees with her.

“How about you Minari?” Kiyoomi asks the younger girl.

“I want paint,” Kia nonchalantly says and Kiyoomi does a thumbs up to her. After that, they start to run to wherever they can get their wants. Kiyoomi walks after his kids, the twins already asleep in his arms, their heads on his shoulder. He spots Kia, scanning through the wide catalog of bikes, a small skateboard already tucked below her underarms.

“Can I get the blue one?” Kia tells the employee who is assisting her, pointing at the baby blue bike she wants.

“You don’t want the pink one?” The employee asks, presenting the pink bike. Kia looks at him in disgust.

“Do you think girls only like pink?” Kia remarks, taking the employee by surprise. Kiyoomi smiles under his mask, amused by his daughter’s words. He internally taps the his back because he’s pretty much the reason behind her attitude. He’s proud to say that he has raised his children not to believe in gender norms.

Kiyoomi feels someone tug on his pants, so he looks down and sees Mina holding a small cart filled with coloring materials, picture books and papers. “Is that all you want?” Mina nods and holds his hand.

After checking Kia’s bike they head to the cashier to pay. Kiyoomi then realizes that he has done the one thing you told him not to do. Spend money on the kids. But you won’t know right?

One task has been failed.

As they reach the house, all the kids immediately go to the bathroom to wash. Kiyoomi knows that they adapted this habit from him, and he feels happy that they’re understanding his personality even at a young age. Kia even sprays alcohol in her sibling’s hand every time they come back to the car. It’s the little things his little kids are doing for him that makes him love them even more.

The four of them falls asleep after the bath so Kiyoomi arranges the stuff they bought. As he is arranging Mina’s books, he notices the abundant number of books that included dogs. “Does she likes dogs?”

Kiyoomi is tired. He has never felt this tired after intense games or practices. Childcare is a whole new level of tired. Just when he thought he can rest, Mina walks out of her shared room with Kia. “Hi, baby. Did you sleep well?” Kiyoomi asks Mina which she doesn’t respond to. Instead, she comes close to him and hugs his leg. Surprisingly, Mina starts crying. “What’s wrong?”

“I missed you, papa,” Mina explains. Kiyoomi sits on the foamed floor of the living room, giving Mina a hug.

Mina has always been quiet. She always waits for her turn silently. She never begs for attention even if she wants it deeply. Mina only shows affection towards you and Kiyoomi when she’s alone with you, but with her siblings around, she gives way to them. Sometimes, Kiyoomi feels guilty because of this. Unlike Kia, Mina has never spent time with you and Kiyoomi on her own. Plus, she was then followed by the twins when she was still a baby. He’s afraid that Mina might start thinking that she is less important than her siblings.

“I missed you, too, Minari,” Kiyoomi says back. He puckers his lips so Mina gives him a short kiss. He hugs her once again, calming her down from her cry. She calms down so Kiyoomi takes this as a chance to trim her bangs. “Should we cut your hair?”

The two of them go to your shared bathroom as quiet as they can, not wanting to wake the other kids up. Kiyoomi sits Mina down on the sink, then takes a pair of scissors out of the drawers. “Don’t move, okay?” He starts to cut her bangs, thinking he’s doing a good job. But once he lets go of her hair, the room becomes silent.

Sakusa messed up. Big time.

Mina checks her reflection at the mirror and giggles. “Weird,” Mina says in between laughter, causing Kiyoomi to chuckle as well.

“Your mom will be so mad at me...” He cuts some more length off, but no matter how hard he tries, it’s just an uneven. He then decides to stop, not wanting his daughter to look like an unidentified animal.

“I like it, papa. Thank you.” She doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t want to break her father’s heart. Mina hugs Kiyoomi after taking a look at the mirror. Kiyoomi kisses her cheek, then laughs at the result.

“You’re still cute.”

Two tasks done.

As they return to the living room, they see Kia sitting on the living room couch, staring at the wall emptily. She sees Mina’s new hairstyle and grimaces. “You’re bad at cutting hair, papa,” Kia says, unfiltered. Unlike Mina who is considerate like you, Kia is as blunt as Kiyoomi. He doesn’t say anything back since she was right.

“Can you teach Mina the alphabet while I make dinner?” Kiyoomi requests and Kia nods in agreement. Mina goes to Kia while Kiyoomi goes to the kitchen to make dinner. He’s thankful that he has such a reliable daughter. He would probably not make it without Kia around.

Three tasks done. Somehow.

At first, Kia was teaching Mina the alphabet, but then she had to go to Kiyoomi’s bathroom to wash her hands, and that’s when she saw Kiyoomi’s ripped jeans that he wore a day before in the laundry basket. She hurriedly called Mina and ordered her to bring paper and glue.

“Is papa poor?” Mina gasps as Kia presents the ripped jeans to her. They sadly look at the piece of clothing and feel bad for buying so much at the toy store while their father was wearing clothes with holes in it.

The older girl flattens the pair of jeans on the floor and starts to glue the colored paper over the torn parts. Mina mimics Kia and does the same thing to the other leg of the pants. Kiyoomi, still in the kitchen, wonders why he suddenly can’t hear his children. It’s never good when they’re silent.

“Kia! Mina! Where are you?” Kiyoomi shouts and he hears small footsteps coming from his room. He checks over the counter and sees his pants are now covered in decorative paper. He almost drops the knife he is holding from the sudden transformation of his pants.

“We covered the holes in your pants papa! You might get cold!” Kia reasons as she shows off their little project. How can he get mad at them when they are just worried about him?

“Thank you, Kia, Mina,” he laughs and snaps a picture of them on his phone. Things that his kids do that don’t make sense but is damn adorable.

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“Just go to bed. I beg you,” Kiyoomi pleads to his children who are still jumping on the bed. “It’s already almost 12AM. Please sleep.”

Kiyoomi is damn tired. How do you handle the four of them on your own? He suddenly feels bad for leaving you alone with them. And he hasn’t heard a complain from you even once. His love for you has become deeper just from taking care of the kids in one day.

“Bedtime story!” Kia cheers, putting herself inside the blanket, which her siblings follow. Kiyoomi sighs in relief. Finally.

“What kind of story do you want?” Kiyoomi tucks the blankets properly on their bodies, making sure that the four of them are comfortable in his bed.

“How did you meet mama?” Kia asks, causing Kiyoomi to smile.

“How I met your mother, huh?” Kiyoomi hums, thinking about how you first met. His smile grows, remembering every detail of how you met.

The first time Sakusa had met you was in Itachiyama. You were outside the volleyball gym, and he was on his way to practice. For some odd reason, you were smelling the roses by the wall. He thought you were the weirdest person he had encountered and judged you right then and there. After that, he would notice how you came to the same spot to smell the roses every single day. He didn’t even understand what smelled so good about them. He may or may have not tried smelling them after practice just to check why you kept smelling them.

It went on for weeks, but Sakusa never thought of talking to you. He just didn’t see see a reason why he should. Until one day, it rained so heavily that he became so worried for unknown reasons. On his way to practice, he stopped by the usual spot where you would smell the flowers and he didn’t see you there. Of course you wouldn’t be there, it was raining so hard. He didn’t care about you.

He was sure he didn’t care until he found himself carrying a bouquet of roses one morning to give it to you. He couldn’t believe it himself. But he couldn’t contain his feelings anymore.

You were a virus that slowly corrupted his mind that all he could think of is you. Maybe it be in class, during practice, on his way home, before he sleeps, after he wakes and sometimes he even dreams about you. Your virus then slowly travelled to his heart. He couldn’t explain it but every time he saw you, his heart would pound so fast he felt like he would suffer from cardiac arrest.

But it was also you who soothed him. When he was feeling down, he thought of your smile after you smelled the roses and he’s back up again. The calm he felt when he passed by you in hallways was enough to encourage him to do great in practice and in games. He didn’t even know your name but he already has a mission of taking your last name and replacing it with his.

You were his illness and his cure.

His cousin, Komori, wasn’t surprised to see him standing by the school gates with flowers in his hands. As the libero saw the roses, he immediately knew Sakusa was waiting for you.

Sakusa was never quiet about his feelings judgement towards you. Everyday the spiker would complain to the libero about how weird you were. Each day, Sakusa had something new to complain about. You cut your hair? He would say it Komori. You painted your nails a new color? Komori would hear about it. You were wearing a different bag? Komori definitely knew about it from Sakusa.

Komori had concluded that Sakusa had developed a liking towards you but the latter hadn’t notice yet. So when it rained hard the day before and Sakusa’s plays were bad, Komori knew Sakusa would do something about it. Sakusa was an honest man, even to himself, especially to himself.

You were on your way to school, when you saw Sakusa standing by the gates. Of course you knew him. He was famous in your school despite his too blunt personality and germaphobic tendencies. You had a little crush on him, but you also were aware he’d never like you back. You’d go outside their gym everyday to smell on the flowers and see him. He was a happy a crush. So, seeing him with flowers outside your school broke your heart.

‘So he had a lover, huh?’

You walked past him, head lowered in defeat. You heard murmurs and whispers as you continued to walk but you ignore them, head full of sad thoughts. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder so you turned your head and saw Sakusa standing before you, handing you the bundle of flowers. Everyone else was staring at you and Komori was hiding somewhere, taking a picture of the commotion.

“I think you got the wrong person,” you chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to do since other students were looking at the two of you. And Sakusa Kiyoomi, the ace of the volleyball team, your happy crush, the man of your dreams, was handing you a bouquet of roses.

“You’re the girl who smells the roses outside our gym every afternoon, right?” Sakusa said as he pulled his mask down.

You literally short circuited. He was much more taller and more gorgeous up close. He smelled good, too. But what surprised you the most was that he lowered his mask to talk to you. Maybe you saved the world once in your past life to be able to experience this.

You nodded unsurely, glancing around you in nervousness, not able to look him in the eye. “Forecast said it’ll rain later in the afternoon so you won’t be able to smell the flowers outside the gym. So take this.” Sakusa explained to you.

You couldn’t believe it. The boy who you had a secret crush on since the first day of school had noticed you. You didn’t expect anything at all. Considering how he was with people, you thought you didn’t have a chance so you never made a move aside from stealing glances and watching from a far. To say that your heart was beating fast and that you felt butterflies in your stomach was an understatement. One more word from him and you would probably burst.

“Is that so?” A smile slowly grew on your lips, finally making eye contact with him. You were trying so hard to play it cool, but your reddening cheeks were giving you off. “Thank you. I’m (Y/N) by the way.”

“You can call me Kiyoomi.”

“And from that day on, I would bring your mother a rose everyday,” Sakusa tells Kia, fondly looking his children, the products of your love.

“So you liked mama ever since you met her?” Kia asks, seeing her father smile foolishly. A small giggle leaves Kiyoomi’s mouth and Kia teases him. “Papa is a simp.”

“Where did you learn that?” Kiyoomi gasps.

“Momo,” Kia answers and Kiyoomi takes a mental note to smack his cousin when he sees him again. “Papa, do you love mama?”

“We wouldn’t have the four of you if I don’t,” Kiyoomi answers with a chuckle. He checks his other kids and they have already fallen asleep. “Now go to sleep.”

“Good night, papa,” Kia greets him before closing her eyes. “I love you and mama so much. I am happy you are our parents.”

“We love you more.” He kisses their forehead one by one, before settling on the edge of the bed. He takes his phone out and messages you, hoping you were still awake.

All tasks complete.

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[prev] [next]

Facts:

Kia is already 5 years old at this, while Mina is 2 and the twins are 1.

Mina thinks dogs are cute because Komori looks like one and he is her favorite uncle.

Mira is the quiet twin while Kin is the more vocal one.

Kin likes fish because the last time Hinata came over, he showed him a picture of his gold fish. Hinata is Kin’s favorite.

Bokuto is Kia’s new favorite uncle/boyfriend because Atsumu has children and Kita is married. She doesn’t want to get in trouble.

Mira is loyal to Kiyoomi.

Taglist: @elianetsantana @aoi-turtle @ptv-hades @aquzairus @a-applepi @justoneofthefangirlsarianna-r13 @morenabambinii @chaelysian @loser-keiji @mxngy @ne-kuroon1fangirlsblog @d-efend @missalicebaskervillemarvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea @bonkyandloki @kimi09 @ntimacy @mkazuyuh @ushi-please @minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi @yeehawslap @onlyshinji @obsessedwhxre @adrasteiaxandromedaa @abuliawrites @song-of-storms162 @tnu-ree @keichainn @bunnybitesthedust @lililiynx @maitenight @prettyinblack231 @hyoonx23

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu series #sakusa smau #sakusa fanfic #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi smau #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa imagines #haikyuu sakusa

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jaeminzie · 3 years

Text

lion boy | l.mh

↳ mark lee x fem!reader

synopsis: you would never ruin your slytherin image by exposing your crush on the gryffindor head boy. but for mark lee, you’d put it into consideration.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,074

a/n: a new series hehe, i’ve been procrastinating on this but i’m rlly proud with how it turned out ! mark lee best boy sigh ( also happy holidays :] )

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

“can you quit your act already?” your best friend pulled you through the hallways so powerfully causing both of your green robes to flap everywhere, gaining some raised eyebrows from the paintings surrounding your moving bodies. you continued to wince as her grip on your wrist became tighter and her strides became faster, you swear her heavy foot stomps could be heard throughout the castle.

you huffed in annoyance. your best friend has been side eyeing and sighing throughout the entirety of herbology whenever you spoke, but now she decides to speak to you. “what are you on about?” you let out a deep breath once she lets go off your wrist when you reached the restroom. thankfully, it was empty so no one can see you absolutely destroy your friend after she just destroyed your bones from dragging you too hard. “no need to drain all our energies, y/f/n, just talk to me.” you snapped but added a tad bit of sincerity, while dusting your robe.

she stood there, arms crossed and tapping her foot on the tile while watching you with grimace in her eyes. “infuriating, you are.”

“i’m quite aware, thank you very much.” you clicked your tongue and turned to the sink next to you to wash your sweaty hands, not sparing a glance at your friend stood in front of you.

the clicking sound on the tiles stopped and you could see her arms dropping by her sides in the corner of your eye. “you know i love you, right?” despite the wholesome meaning of her words, the way it sounded off her tongue seemed a different story.

breathlessly chucking at your friend, “you have an absurd way of showing it, but yes. i’m also aware of that.” you sighed, wiping your hands on your robe which made your friend cringe as she saw the water streaks appear on the ‘special’ robe.

“you’re the one to talk.” her arms made their way back up against her chest all crossed.

you furrowed your eyebrows so much that you could feel a headache coming. “okay now, what are you talking about?”

“always so oblivious, y/n.” she brought up her hand to tuck in a piece of your hair behind your ear, making you slap her hand away. “get out of my face before i hex you, mark lee.” she mimicked your voice and giggle using an obnoxiously high pitched tone. “you really need to work your on flirting skills.”

your face softened at the mention of his name, and began to heat up once your friend noticed the change in emotion in your eyes. you quickly replied before she could further taunt you, “saying that i want to hex someone means that i’m flirting with them? make it make sense.” you paused to roll your eyes. “and i don’t giggle.” you scoffed, trying your hardest to stop yourself from blushing.

“if you really do despise that boy like how you claim you do, you would’ve done it by now.” she poked your cheek with the tip of her wooden wand. “but you haven’t.” she smirked at you, waiting for the response she wanted but she was not going to get it out of you. at least, not that easily. after a good portion of silence, she dropped her smirk and waved her arms up in the air. “oh my god, just say you like him!”

“i am not saying i like a-“ you whisper, “-a gryffindor.” your friend rolled her eyes at your immaturity. “but is it really that obvious? do you think he’s noticed?”

and her smirk that you wanted to slap away made another appearance. “god no, lee has got to be the biggest dimwit of the school. i can’t believe he’s head-boy of gryffindor.”

you glared at her. “please, he’s not the biggest dimwit if you’re around.” you smiled at the satisfying reaction she gave. “it’s all out of love, babe.” you caressed her hair and reassured her since you were slightly fearing your life after the look she flashed you.

you began to walk out with your friend stomping behind you, clearing still frustrated as her plan didn’t go her way. though she wasn’t about to give up that easily, she needed both you and mark to stop rejecting your obvious feelings toward each other.

though, what both of you failed to hear were the giggles echoing in the bathroom. it seems like your best friend doesn’t have to work so hard for her plan to work.

—

it was a tiresome day and you wanted nothing more than to go back to your common room and relax with your peers. the whole day you’ve gotten weird looks and quick glances from people who you didn’t know even existed. you weren’t phased by it. as a slytherin, it wasn’t uncommon to get odd looks from the new students since they don’t know any better and stereotype. though, it seemed like everyone was looking.

a free period is all you needed, and that is what you had at the moment. using the precious time wisely, you chose the middle courtyard to spend time by yourself in. you walked your way to the area humming your favorite tune since you can finally get a break, then making yourself comfortable on the grass. sighing contently, you took in the fresh air and admired the greenery surrounding you before pulling out your potions book to study before attending after your free period.

being so focused on the words on the book that you barely understood, you didn’t notice the sudden shade casted upon you before hearing someone clear their throat from above you. you turned your head up to that someone — mark lee.

“uh hi,” he croaked. “free period?”

you laughed at the boy, making sure it sounded more like a scoff rather than a giggle. “yes.” you went back to reading the book laid on your lap, ignoring the boy dressed in red. you could honestly barf at how dashing he manages to look in that horrid color.

you could slightly see him fidgeting with his fingers as he tried to say some words, making your heart flutter. “oh same.” you made sure your hair covers majority of your face before smiling at his dry response. he was trying so hard but to him, it wasn’t enough. to you, it was enough to make you feel nauseous over how adorable he was being. god, your best friend would pay to see this moment. you rolled your eyes when you realized that you’d have to share what’s currently happening to your friend later. then she’d finally brag over how she was right all along, never ceasing a moment to use the fact that you’re head over heels over a lion boy against you. but there was nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to mark lee.

“what do you need?” you continued to flip the pages of the damaged book because you couldn’t show your tomato face just yet.

“okay uh-“ he cleared his throat. “i just wanted to inform you that there are rumors going around.”

“about?” you sounded completely uninterested in the topic which surprised mark. you became disappointed since you had hoped that he came to talk to you because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated to. you guess that’s what happens when you aren’t the sweetest to the boy you’ve liked for years.

“apparently, moaning myrtle heard your conversation with y/f/n earlier today and she’s been telling every girl who enters the loo.” he spoke cautiously, trying not to press the wrong buttons of yours.

you felt your heart race. though, you weren’t sure if it was out of nervousness or excitement. maybe both? yes both. you could feel the beating of your heart throughout your whole body and you hoped that mark couldn’t hear how embarrassingly loud it was. you stayed silent until you managed to piece yourself together enough to look at him. “and you’re telling me this because....?”

his voice cracked. “i don’t know. maybe because...” and he cleared his throat once again. “i like you too.” he shoved his hands in his pockets and made direct eye contact with you. you mentally applaud him for the courage, perfectly exhibiting his house’s prominent trait. but the long silence and you not attempting to create a response made his eyes look at everything besides you who calmly sat legs crossed on the grass. he failed to see the adoration that you have for him in your eyes as he was too busy worrying that he had made you ‘despise’ him even more.

mark, undeniably the most popular student in hogwarts, was the one standing above you and looking down at you, but it was obvious that you are the one whose got him wrapped around your finger.

you smirked slightly once you realized that you can have some fun in this. “you think that i’d have even the slightest interest on the muggle born, lion boy that you are?” you teased, quirking your eyebrows.

the overly nervous boy obviously didn’t catch the joking tone laced in your voice but being the gryffindor head-boy he is, mark puffed up his chest and spoke with full confidence. “yeah i do think that.” after getting no response from you, his chest fell down and his back began to hunch. replying with a soft tone that almost made your lip quiver, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have even believed in the rumors in the first place. i’ll tell everyone to st-“

the guilt became bigger and bigger the more he talked, and you just couldn’t take the image of him standing there not knowing what to do with his hands anymore. “well you’re right.”

mark’s eyes were popping out of his head with his mouth wide open. “seriously?”

“i mean, wasn’t i obvious?” you stood up and wiped your robe during the process.

he raised his eyebrow and refrained himself form laughing. “you truly have a special way of showing it then.” despite the lighthearted tone in his voice, he still couldn’t look at you.

“so i’ve been told.” you giggled, slightly covering your mouth with your fingers. giggled. mark thought. he immediately looked at you at the sound of your giggling since he’s never made you do that before, and it made his pride swell seeing your eyes crinkle and face glow red by his words.

mark was so entranced by your appearance, he’s never seen you like this before and he could definitely get used to it. so entranced that his body began moving for him, leaning closer and closer with his hands reaching for your waist.

before he was close enough to get a taste of your chapstick, you separated your lips with your index finger. you tutted, “not yet.”

“yet?”

you hummed at his question. “if you work hard enough.” you bend down to gather your books from the ground and mark followed your actions, handing your books.

“of course i will, you know me.” he teased while standing back up with you and flashed a side smile that caused the release of the butterflies caged in the pit of your stomach.

the bell rang, indicating the end of class which meant that everyone should be coming out now. you looked at mark once more, “fortunately.”

his smile grew but disappointment took over his face when he saw you barely stepping back from him.

before turning your back, you poked his chest with your pointer finger — getting surprised at how muscular he felt. wanting to have more fun, you leaned close to his ear and whispered, “i’m counting on you.”

the feeling of your lips brushing against his ear made mark’s face heat up and focus unclear. he only managed to see you strut into the hallways, leaving him flustered and shaking his head at your antics that he found so endearing.

mark continued to watch your figure become smaller and smaller the further you walked away, only getting pulled out of the trance once his friends called out his name. he looked back at you and was met with a genuine smile that you gave him, which made him stumble as he was trying to make his way to his fellow gryffindors. you’re going to make me lose my mind. mark thought. and you made sure to prove him right.

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 14

TW: None

Words Count: 1.5k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 15

You’re home early. Since you so conveniently followed your heart to resign right at that moment. You sigh, looking up at the ceiling where you lay defeated on your bed.

You wonder if you did things right.

But at the same time it kind of feels liberating.

He doesn’t even mention about your gift to him.

You sigh again. You don’t really resent your husband. He did the same thing a hundred other employers would do. He can’t let you off the hook simply because you’re his wife.

Although you guess he could’ve brought you somewhere else and lash out on you where not everyone could witness it.

Without realizing it, you fell into a slumber and only wakes when the dusk has set. You glance at the clock and sits up almost immediately. It’s around the time Jimin would be back and you haven’t prepared dinner yet. Hoping he hasn’t reach home yet, you quickly head downstairs and make your way to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startle you a little. You turn to see your husband standing at the threshold, looking quite unsure of himself.

You almost want to let out a laugh but holds yourself, although barely. “I made some spaghetti today.”

He takes a step forward hesitantly. You sit yourself in front of him once you laid dinner on the table.

You see him hesitate to eat and despite knowing it’s because of earlier events, you couldn’t help asking. “You.. don’t like spaghetti..?” Just in case.

“You’re not mad.” He states.

You try really hard to stifle a smile and hopefully it works. “I’m not.” You simply say before beginning on your own spaghetti.

“You quit your job.”

You pause for a while before answering. “You’ve always been keen to get rid of me at the company, thought I’ll make it easier.” You joke but Jimin apparently doesn’t seem to understand. You sigh and look at him. “I’m not mad. You did what you have to.”

You see his shoulder visibly relaxes at this. “Took an unfair accusation to get you to quit your job.” He teases back and this time you smile. “I’m.. sorry I yelled.. I should’ve asked before blindly getting mad at you.”

“It’s okay. At least I get to sleep in again now.”

He smiles at that. “And um..”

You look up and for a fleeting second, you think he’s blushing.

“Thanks.. for the gift.” He says quickly.

Your lips break into the biggest smile upon hearing that, heart hammering from his simple words.

He smiles at you too, or basically just the corner of his lips quirking very slightly. But you don’t care.

All is good again.

It feels good to have a lot of time at hand again. You’ve started again on art using the art set Jimin gave you. And you’ve since been working on your small portrait. You smile at Jimin’s face that you’ve drawn so far. You try your hardest to enunciate all of his beautiful features. And it’s the best pose of him that you like, him smiling. His blinding smile that could literally light up the whole world.

You’re careful to cover the painting in canvas whenever you’re away because you can’t risk Jimin finding out.

And you don’t know how but your mind is suddenly reminded of your personal diary, a book where you religiously writes your day which nowadays is mostly filled with Jimin.

Glancing at the clock, you head upstairs to change clothes. Once you’re done, you head down to find your personal bodyguard that your husband informed you before, Taeseok.

“Hey um-“ you begin as soon as you see him. He staggers to his feet quickly, perhaps surprised to see you. You feel kind of weird too to finally be communicating with him.

“Hi.” You say again awkwardly. He nods his head in equal awkwardness. “Um- I need to head to the office to pick up some stuff.”

He nods. “I’ll bring the car around.” He says simply.

It’s a very innocent and seemingly harmless act. You deciding to pay a visit to the company where you once work to pick up some stuff. You even try to have a small conversation with your bodyguard on your way to the company.

Except that it is all a mistake.

Stepping out of the car, a woman walks past you, making you stop in your tracks. You stare as she walks past and enters the company.

That model figure and long black hair.

You feel like your world is collapsing. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst and your head is spinning. Everything around you seems to spin and you stumble and would’ve face planted on the ground if Taeseok didn’t step in and holds you firm.

“You alright, Mrs. Park?”

You scoff. Mrs. Park. Not like it means anything other than just you as one of his property. You manage to stand again with the help of your bodyguard. Eyes staring blankly at the building entrance. All thoughts or will to enter and retrieve your things are gone.

Trying hard to ignore the physical pain in your chest, you turn to look at Taeseok and finds him staring at the entrance as well. His gaze turns to you then and you could see the look of sympathy in his eyes. That seems to set off something in you as your tears flow immediately.

Taeseok sees this and quickly swallows. “Would you like me to take you home, Mrs. Park?” He offers kindly.

You can only nod meekly.

You’ve burnt yourself once and cut yourself twice now as you’re preparing meals in the kitchen because you’ve been zoning out too much.

Your heart hurts too much.

But at the same time you also feel like laughing hysterically, laughing at yourself who seems so pathetic right now.

You thought everything is going well between the both of you. You thought you’ve made progress with your husband.

Took you few months to slowly crack his shell only for him to break any hope you have within seconds. Only for you to realize he has a million other shells around him and that you’ve barely scratched his first.

For the hundredth time now, you went to the kitchen sink and wash your face to clear off any evidence of you crying. You don’t need your husband to see and snide you about this. Wiping your face dry, you draw a breath and start cooking properly.

You sense his presence before you hear him. His footsteps can be really silent, you think. Your thinking is right that Jimin’s behind you when you whiff the smell of his vanilla-tinged cologne, perhaps your most favourite smell in the world and you quickly brace yourself.

You’re cutting onions on the chopping board when arms snake around you, making you jump and you almost cut yourself again if not for Jimin’s right hand that holds your wrist firmly.

“Careful.” He whispers.

How could you not when every ounce of him screams danger?

Your lung drops when Jimin slumps forward and rests his head on your shoulder, his free hand on the edge of the counter in front of you, practically caging you from behind.

Your whole body freezes. You’ve never been this hyper aware of every nerves coursing through your vein.

“J-Jimin what are you-“

“Ssh, just stay like this. Let me just stay like this for 5 minutes.” He murmurs against your shoulder.

Your body remains stiff as seconds tick by. “Relax.. I’m not going to harm you.”

Something in his tone makes the hairs raise against your skin.

“You’re very jumpy.” You hear him sigh.

You swallow thickly. “T-tough day?” You immediately regret asking because your own voice betrays you but he doesn’t seem to sense it.

He only grunts and you wait but he doesn’t say anything so you come to accept the fact that it’s his way of responding.

The time continues to stretch yet your whole body doesn’t relax at all. Because your mind is all sorts of chaos, your heart is everything unsettled.

If it was five hours ago, before you went to the company and saw Clara Kim walking in, you’d probably stay still and lend your shoulder for as long as he wants. But you feel your own heart breaking, little by little as each second you let him leaning on you ticks by.

“Jimin please don’t do this..”

“Do what?” He mumbles, still not lifting his head.

‘You- you’re always cold to me.. so cold and distant.. you’re somewhere I can’t reach and suddenly you’re doing this-“

He lifts his head as you seem to have taken his attention fully. You brave yourself to turn your body to face him and sees him staring back at you, eyes blown.

“Why?” He says harshly and you can’t help but flinch. “You’re my wife. And don’t forget that I own you.” Don’t forget that you’re nothing.

Your eyes start to sting. Tears threatening to cloud your vision but you quickly blink them away. “No- no I can’t do this.. I know it’s just temporary but I- I can’t.. not when I’m sharing you with someone else-“

“Share?” His voice raises. “Who the fuck do you think I’m-“

“Clara Kim.” The name is out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I know about her.” You say quietly.

And Jimin’s expression turns furious instantly. You’ve never seen him so mad. “That’s none of your fucking business. And you know nothing.” He snarls and storms away.

He didn’t come to bed that night.

Link to Chapter 15

Posted on 210428 10:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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monster-bait · 4 years

Text

Holt the Witch’s Familiar; M Cat Familiar x F Human, NSFW Monster Match

Monster Match for @moonlightreetops: What I usually look for in a partner is someone that is the equivalent to bedrock personality wise. I need stability and understanding in some sort of way to make me feel secure in a relationship...I collect macabre trinkets and spend most of my time doing little creative projects. I watch scifi flix, anime and play DND so big geek vibes here

I was *determined* to give him the name of an actual, historical familiar, and I didn’t name him Vinegar Tom, so YOU’RE WELCOME. Also, I left a TON of Holt on the cutting room floor, so there will likely be a sequel to this down the road!

The doll had a particularly creepy face.

“Miss Claudette is from the mid-eighteen hundreds,” the female auctioneer read, “once belonging to a privileged little girl of the era, she is a magnificent model of the expectations of a typical Victorian lady.”

You bit your lip in anticipation as hands reached into the frame, turning the doll on her pedestal to show off the detailing on the dress; the creepy, painted bisque face forgotten.

You had no idea who he was—he never spoke, never stepped into the frame, never did anything other than manipulate the items at the behest of the sultry voiced woman in charge, but you’d be lying if you pretended he wasn’t the reason you kept tuning in week after week to their oddity auction, his lovely hands and the banter afterwards.

Long and white and sculpted, veins and tendons standing out in relief, his hands were their own work of art, like a living sculpture. The endlessly long fingers were tipped in equally lengthy nails, painted matte black and ending in lethal-looking points, you supposed calling them claws would likely be more accurate.

You wondered, not for the first time, if he were a werewolf, or some similar creature.

He wouldn’t have the nails all the time, you reminded yourself, thinking of what Kenzie had said. The chipper werewolf had been in your gaming group for several months, a welcome addition, for geeky clubs tended to be overrun with guys, and you’d become friendly with her almost immediately, bonding over a shared love of anime and crafting. You’d casually wondered aloud if werecreatures retained elements of their bestial side, like sharp claws, perhaps, but the freckle-faced young woman had quashed your supposition.

“Nope,” she’d announced cheerfully, seating herself at the gaming table. “Unless it’s like, the day of the change, maybe.”

You had no idea who or what he was, but conversing with him after the auction each week had become a bright spot in your weekend calendar.

It had started when you discovered the wonderful, weird world of oddities auctions run weekly on Instagram. You’d always had a penchant for the macabre and had amassed a nice little collection over the years, but now small businesses were hurting and you could enjoy oddity shopping from the comfort of your phone. You’d heard of the Cat & Crow but had never made the drive to the neighboring city to visit the shop in person, and were excited to see what they had to offer.

“Welcome everyone to the Cat & Crow, thanks for joining us today.”

The woman before the camera wore the uniform of every other social media witch you followed—trendy, artfully tattered black clothes, her raven-colored hair done up in a crown of braids and dreadlocks; her eyeliner expertly winged, tattoos that appeared to be tree branches reaching across her clavicle, with half a dozen rings on each hand.

“Winners, Holt will be contacting you directly at the auction’s end, please be ready with your method of payment. We’ve got a lot of unique items to get through today, so let's get started!”

It wasn’t until the third week you’d tuned in that you’d chatted with the mysterious Holt. You’d been outbid on several of the items you liked, but managed to snag two others, including a victorian poison ring, and he’d recognized your screen name.

Hello again! What were you the big winner of this week? Lot 23 and 47...the onyx and gold poison ring and the pocket-sized surgical tool set. Hmm! Big weekend plans?

You’d laughed aloud at your laptop, cheeks coloring despite the fact you were alone. Nothing nefarious as all that, I swear! Although my table game group had better stay on their toes tonight…

Oh fun! I used to belong to one of those before I moved. So what are you guys playing right now?

After that week, he asked after your game group at the end of every auction. You told him of the hours-long game of Catan, the entire month of Call of Cthulhu, the bickering session that had broken out over a game of Azule.

That sounds great actually. I need to start doing fun things again, since we’ve started the auctions I feel like I’m working 24/7.

You bit your lip now, thinking of his words from the previous week.

After the creepy doll had been some Templar altar piece, a hand of glory with only one candle remaining, and a terrifying victorian wind-up toy, and the only thing to which you’d paid attention was his hands and his sharp claws, shifting things around as the witchy-looking woman spoke.

You’d realized your shopping habit had become more expensive than you’d initially counted on, and that for the last several weeks you were truly only bidding on items as a way to talk to him after the auction’s close. Just ask him. You don’t need to buy anything today, you don’t even like the stuff! Just take a deep breath and do it. Deciding the voice in your head was right, you did as it advised, sucking in a breath and leaning over your keyboard before you changed your mind.

Hi! Not a winner this week, nothing really caught my eye. You swallowed hard, pushing on. I wanted to invite you to join our group sometime! We meet every Saturday at the Melted Meeple, so tonight, lol! You grimaced at yourself, but persevered. We’re just playing CAH right now, but there’s talk of a D&D campaign starting up. The more the merrier!

You waited a minute, then two, before pushing yourself up from the desk. If he didn’t respond, it wasn’t a big deal, you told yourself. He was working, after all, and you really did need to get ready to go meet your friends that evening. Hair fluffed, clothes changed, the handful of dishes you’d left in the sink washed and put away...you went back to your laptop just before you needed to get going, holding your breath as you looked at the screen.

That sounds great! I have to finish things up here, but hopefully I won’t be too late. This will be fun, I feel like we’re old friends at this point!

You told yourself the bounce in your step as you left was simply because it was a nice evening, that you were happy to spend time with your friends and nothing more. That’s it. Just another normal night.

“So what are you going to do?” you asked him for the dozenth time that evening, before biting into a crust of melty cheese, your eyes rolling back in bliss. The Melted Meeple specialized in gaming and grilled cheese, and they excelled at both.

Holt shrugged, spearing a sweet potato fry. He was a finicky eater, carefully cutting things with a knife and fork, scrutinizing the menu every week as though it were the first time he’d seen it, before ordering the exact same thing. He took his time with things and could not be rushed—spearing his fries one at a time, swirling the straw in his drink until the ice had all but melted into the alcohol—and as a result, the two of you spent more time tucked away at your own little table than you did playing the group’s game, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You were smitten.

You’d been a nervous wreck that first night, raising your head anxiously every time the Meeple’s great doors were pulled open, but you did your best to hide it from your friends. You were used to being the steady one, after all, the one who gave advice and provided a ready shoulder for the whole group...you didn’t begrudge your friends their drama and woes, but it made it hard when you had your own anxieties and nowhere to turn.

Kenzie had dropped into the seat next to you, had been going on about the latest disaster with her boyfriend when her head had snapped up, nose wrinkled.

“Ugh, cat. It’s too close to the moon to deal with smelling that.”

You hadn’t noticed the door pulling open, and weren’t entirely sure how he’d managed to do it silently, but a man who’d not been standing before the entrance a moment earlier had stood there then, his citron-green cat eyes scanning the room hesitantly. You’d known it was him instantly.

Thick raven-colored hair and bone-white skin, slim black jeans and a black leather jacket atop a blood red shirt, he was a fitting counterpart to the witch who ran the oddity auction. One of his thick, arched black brows had cocked hopefully when they landed on you staring at him, and you raised a hesitant hand in greeting, smiling when his lips split, revealing a row of blinding white teeth. You took note of the long, hooked incisors in his smile.

“Is he a werecat?” you’d hissed to Kenzie as he made his way across the huge room.

She’d sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose again. “No. Just...just a cat. I don’t get it. I’m going to grab a drink before the next game starts, you want anything?”

He was a familiar, you’d learned. A witch’s familiar, a sleek black cat when he wasn’t the handsome, slightly goth-looking man sitting across from you. His witch, the auctioneer, Arabeth the mistress of Crows—“Bethany,” he’d corrected flatly, rolling his eyes—was his business partner and co-owner of the Cat & Crow, a naturally gifted witch with no direction or commitment to the craft, according to him.

“Let me tell you, working in retail was not a career ambition for me,” he’d laughed that first night, as the two of you sat at your own small table away from the group, sharing a basket of fries before joining the game. “But the shop is successful and it keeps me busy, since she’s all but abandoned her path.”

By the end of the night, your stomach had been a riot of butterflies. He was stable and confident, a sharp departure from the majority of your friend group, you’d realized. Stable and confident, and ridiculously good looking. You’d thought he was of a middling height when you’d been seated, but he towered over you, engulfing you in a hug at the evening’s end.

“This was a lot of fun, thanks for inviting me!”

“Every Saturday,” you replied breathlessly, trying to restrain yourself from burying your face against his solid chest. You didn’t know what Kenzie was talking about, he didn’t smell like a cat at all—he smelled like black musk and pine, making you think of a dark forest on an autumn night, masculine and sexual…“I hope you’ll join us again!”

“If you’ll be here, I definitely will,” he’d said, giving you another one of those sharp-edged smiles, his eyes glowing on the dark street.

That had been over a month ago, and you were head-over heels in your crush.

He’d joined you every Saturday, and it had become your custom to eat together, away from the group before joining in whatever game was starting. When both Kenzie and another friend had flaked on going furniture shopping with you, he’d taken their place, doing the heavy lifting, putting together a bookcase, and paying for dinner afterwards, despite your insistence to the contrary. It was a revelation, having someone there to hear your problems, and you were happy to do the same, whenever he came in grumbling about his deteriorating relationship with his witch.

When your gaming group began planning its Dungeons and Dragons campaign at last, you discovered Holt had never played and wasn’t familiar with any of the rules.

“First we have to decide your character,” you explained, pushing a character sheet across the table. “Race, attributions, what you’d like your strengths to be…”

“Tell me again why I can’t be a bard who’s also a sorcerer.”

“You can cast spells as a bard! We’ve been through this!”

“I want to be sneaky and magical and have everyone love me.”

You’d come to the Cat & Crow once, popping in unannounced, and had seen him in his cat form. Sleek and sinuous, jet black with bright green eyes, the black cat had rubbed up against your ankles as you’d stood there, after being greeted by the friendly-seeming witch, mewling determinedly before darting off into the back room. Holt had come breezing out a moment later, announcing to Bethany that you were going out for sushi and would be back in an hour.

“So basically you just want to play yourself,” you laughed, receiving a not-at-all angelic smile in return.

It was the first grownup relationship you’d ever had, you’d realized with a start that evening. You loved your friends and wouldn’t change a thing about them, but it was nice not playing therapist, having a solid give-and-take of support. Your first real adult relationship, and it’s completely one sided. Brava.

Still, you thought, when he slinked through the Melted Meeple’s doors that night, dropping into a chair gracefully and announcing he was officially a free agent familiar, you were glad for the opportunity to listen, knowing he’d be just as present and solid for you.

He shrugged at your repeated question. “Go to the agency on Monday, file for a new witch, I guess.”

“Does...does that mean you’ll have to move? What if they pair you with a witch on the other side of the world? What about the shop?”

His laugh was a dark curl, full of mirth. “Nothing archaic like that. This is where I live, the shop is my day job. We’re still business partners, but she’s quitting the craft entirely and I don’t have that luxury. The magic world is ninety percent bureaucracy and paperwork, it’ll probably be at least a year before they even get to my file.”

“Oh, that’s-that’s good,” you sighed in relief, not wanting to contemplate what would happen if he had to move away. “Good! You’ll have more free time now!”

Holt’s smile was wide, the light overhead winking off his fangs as leaned across the table. “And I know just who I’m going to spend it with,” he purred, before catching your lips with his own.

You hadn’t really known what to expect from the home of a familiar—a part of you was expecting some gothic lair with dripping candles and some ancient book of dark spellwork on a pedestal—but a completely average garden-level apartment on a tight lane of historic brownstones had not been it. The neighborhood was trendy: full of crowded little bistros with packed, street-side patios and bars boasting craft cocktails on swirling chalk signs outside their doors. You didn’t mind an occasional foray into adventure, but you couldn’t imagine living somewhere so noisy and bustling.

“Here we are,” Holt announced, tugging your hand and carefully leading you down the short stairwell in front of the dark-bricked building. “The neighborhood is great, but I love my little dungeon.”

You understood his meaning the moment the door closed behind you. The apartment was small but tidy, with plush-looking furniture and towering bookshelves, each crammed with curios, macabre trinkets and gimcrack. The street-level windows did little to illuminate the space, giving it a dim, cloistered feeling, amplified by the red-shaded lamps on either side of the sofa.

Long-fingered hands encircled your waist, claws dragging lightly over your stomach, sending a shiver up your spine and reminding you remembered why you were here. You were terribly aware of your own heartbeat when warm lips pressed to the back of your neck, hot breath and the glance of fangs moving over your delicate skin, and your head tilted on its own accord, giving him better access.

“It looks like a bordello in this place,” you mused, laughing when you felt his outraged gasp against your shoulder.

“Slander!” he exclaimed, the press of his hot tongue making your back arch, “calumny and lies. I demand restitution.”

It had been two weeks since he’d kissed you over your grilled cheese sandwich, two weeks of making out like teenagers and groping each other on the street corner every Saturday, two weeks of thinking about him every night, waking heated and flushed in your bed with an ache between your thighs and slick coating your fingers, and tonight you’d decided enough was enough.

He was steady and confident and reliable, but you’d noticed that he deferred to you in almost every matter. If you asked his opinion, he gave it; if you told him he was in charge of the evening’s plans, he already had one, but he let you control the direction of things rather than steamrolling you, and you wondered if it was something he was compelled to do as a familiar. You’ve got to be the one who makes the first move, you realized. Then he’ll take over and you can stop panicking.

“I think,” you murmured into his ear that night, as you sat on the edge of the gaming table, waiting to join in on the next round, “you should show me your apartment tonight, and we can work on your rolls.” The D&D campaign had started, and two sessions in the entire campaign had been entirely waylaid by a troublesome tiefling character who refused to follow the group’s initiative, and Holt had been smug that he’d not been the new player to cause problems.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, green eyes flashing, “we can do other things while we’re there.”

The apartment was dark, but somehow you were led to the bedroom without tripping over anything, the bedding beneath you cool and thick as Holt pressed you to your back. His eyes were glowing green orbs, rapidly growing closer until your lips were captured by his own, the kiss breaking off abruptly when he leaned over your body to turn on the bedside lamp.

“What do I need to roll for seduction?”

The bed rocked as he reached back from where he straddled your body, pulling off your sandals and sending them sailing across the room. “I’m serious!” he insisted when you laughed again. “This is a serious game, remember? I don’t want to be the one who gets the whole party kicked out of a tavern.”

“Well, if you’re serious,” you began, breath hitching as your top was pushed up your body, claws dragging over the newly-exposed skin, “then you should know you can’t actually roll seduction, it’s not a skill.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

You couldn't find fault in his words as your bra was deftly unhooked and pulled away, the heat of his mouth closing over the tip of your breast before you had a chance to be chilled. The tips of his clawed hand continued to move in soft patterns over your side as his tongue worked, teasing your nipple before sucking, biting ever-so-gently before releasing it with a wet pop.

“Are you sure I can’t roll seduction? I am a magical bard, after all.”

“Nope,” you corrected on a gasp. His mouth had moved to your other breast, giving it the same treatment until both nipples were pebbled and aching. “Seduction isn’t a skill. You can roll for deception, if you have ulterior motives.”

“Absolutely not. There you go again with the slander. What about...persuasion? Can I roll persuasion as a means of seduction?”

You unbuttoned the dark shirt he wore as he spoke, pushing apart the fabric to reveal the long, lithe shape of him above you. Broad shouldered but slender, Holt possessed none of the bulk the werewolf you’d gone out with a few times last year had. Tightly muscled and well-defined, your own clawless fingers moved down his chest, following the trail of dark hair down the hard plane of his stomach until you reached the thick bulge at the front of his jeans. The noise that emitted from his throat as you stroked the hard shape of him was very nearly a purr, and you smiled hugely, deciding to let him do his best.

“Sure, why not,” you smiled, pulling open his belt. “But I might want a perception check. Gotta check out your staff of persuasion first, make sure its on the up and up.”

You let out an undignified squeak when your skirt and knickers were pulled down as he rose, shucking his jeans before climbing over your body slowly, and you were clearly able to picture him as the giant, stalking cat you knew he occasionally was.

The soft drag of his claws over your thighs made you gasp, legs falling open, and the knuckle that pressed into your folds found you slick and eager.

“I’m glad you invited me to join the group,” he purred against your lips, sharp teeth catching them gently in a kiss. “Even if I don’t know any of the rules.”

The hard press of his erection was a molten heat against your hip and you shuddered out a breath, wanting to take him in hand but enjoying the press of his body against yours too much to force him to move. “I-I am too.”

Between your legs, his hand was buried against your sex. His sharp claws were tucked back, a finger on either side of your clit, knuckles kneading into the sensitive flesh until your hips were bucking upward to meet his hand, kneading and rolling, over and over until you were seeing stars. Pressure built behind your navel with every roll over the exposed bud of flesh, and you keened.

“I’m still having fun,” Holt went on, mouth stretching into a wide Cheshire cat-like smile, “and isn’t that the point of a game?”

The band of pressure snapped and you arched against him as throb after throb of pleasure pulsed through you. Your thighs tightened around his wrist, trapping his hand in place, and he hummed in amusement, fingers still moving as you gasped and shook, his lips pressing to yours lightly when you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I’d like to seduce you, please,” he purred, waggling his dark eyebrows. “I’m being as persuasive as possible.”

His cock was still hot when you wrapped a hand around it, giving his shaft a firm pump, dragging upwards until your fingers reached his swollen head. “You really are a big cat,” you observed when the repeated motion drew a vibrating rumble from his chest, before edging closer to the foot of the bed. His smart-assed reply was lost to another rumble when you licked a broad stripe over his exposed head, laving your tongue over the bead of moisture there.

There were several rings of nodules at the base of his head, you realized, mimicking the sharp barbs he might possess in his cat form, and you wondered how they would feel inside of you. The sharp points of his nails dragged through your hair as you sucked him into your mouth, swirling your tongue before lowering your head down his shaft, bobbing your head several times before his clawed hands were tugging you upwards.

You were reminded of his speed on the day the black cat in the shop had gone darting off to the back room in a blink of an eye when he flipped you, you cheek pressed to the mattress as he kissed up your spine, raising your hips. You felt the leaking tip of his cockhead press to your slick folds, sliding up and down before finally pushing into you, hilting himself in one thrust.

You hadn’t intended on finding a relationship, only some fun new additions to your curio shelf, you thought as has pumped into you, those textured nodules dragging deliciously over your inner walls. Claws dragged over your skin as you clenched around him, unable to stop the moan which broke from your mouth. You hadn’t been looking for a relationship, but one had found you anyway.

When his hand found its way back between your thighs, you were lost. Already gasping with every thrust of his textured cock, as soon as the rough pads of his fingers began circling your clit, you felt your tentative control slip, your core clenching and spasming around him before you were filled with heat, his rumbling purr vibrating against you as he came.

The comforter was thick and soft when he pulled it over you, once he’d withdrawn and quickly cleaned you up. Thick and soft and incredibly warm, snuggled against his chest.

“I have a confession to make.” You craned your neck up to find Holt peering down, one of his thick, dark brows cocked curiously. “You can’t actually play persuasion or deception against another player’s character. Everyone has their own freewill and agency, it doesn’t matter how silver-tongued the party’s bard is.”

“Do you mean to tell me I wasted a perfectly good persuasion play?”

“It was unnecessary but not without merit!” you yelped as he flipped you to your back, giving you his best glower as he straddled your hips. “You’ve convinced me!”

“Oh, just you wait. I am going to cast so many spells on you once once we finally get out of the bloody tavern.”

The bed, you realized, had begun to levitate, and now hung suspended in the air as you squealed. He really was a magical, sneaky bard.

“You can’t do that either,” you laughed after the bed dropped, shaking the walls. “No spells on teammates.”

“There are too many rules to this game,” he griped, pressing his cheek to your breast. You wrapped your arms around him, pushing your fingers through his thick hair. Give and take. Solid for each other.

“You have plenty of time to learn.”

His purr vibrated against you before he wriggled free from your arms to fix the blanket, pulling you against him as he resettled. “It’s a good thing I have an excellent teacher.”

#monsterbait writes #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x reader #m monster x female reader #monster x human #monster match #monster matchmaker #witch's familiar #black cat

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Note

38 Geraskier? If it’s not too much trouble, thanks Wolfie!

This got away from me! This is why it takes a while to fill prompts. I cannot write anything under 500 words. I was going for a 5 +1 format but it ended up being 2+1... anyhoo. Enjoy!

#38 Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends- oh wait

_______

Yennefer

Geralt was sat opposite Yennefer at a fancy restaurant. His shirt collar was almost choking him and the fabric felt far too stiff and starchy for his liking but Yen was important to him. It was their last chance to get this right and he’d done everything he could think of to impress her. He wanted to be right for her. He didn’t want to lose her. They weren’t well suited but the thought of losing her just filled him with dread. He wasn’t sure if she would stick around if they weren’t dating and her company had become invaluable to him.

Yen sipped at her cocktail through the silver straw. Her red lipstick leaving stains on the metal. She gazed at him cooly across the table with her stunning violet eyes. He was rambling on nervously about some shit Jaskier had gotten himself into the day before in attempt to stop the conversation from drying up.

“Geralt.” Yen said calmly in between sips of her drink. Geralt’s mouth snapped shut and he tensed up. He knew this had been coming but he wished… he just wished they could be good. “What the fuck are you trying to do here?”

“I don’t understand.” He grunted, prolonging the inevitable. He picked at his food. Even his pie and chips had ended up being some deconstructed shit. Chips were chips, not some weird potato mush streaked across the plate.

“Was this supposed to be a date, Geralt?” Yen sighed with a roll of her eyes. “I didn’t realise Jaskier was the sharing sort?”

Geralt choked on the carrot ball he’d just popped in his mouth. “Sharing? Jaskier?”

“Well he is your boyfriend.” Yen raised an eyebrow.

“He’s what?!” _________

Priscilla

Jaskier stuck his tongue out as he carefully brushed the vibrant pink nail varnish over his toes. Geralt was out with Yennefer on a date, breaking Jaskier’s heart for the umpteenth time in the process, so he’d invited Pris over for a girl’s night in to sooth the pain. They were half a bottle of vodka in and he was really regretting that now as he struggled not to smear his nail varnish.

Priscilla’s hands covered his and took the bottle and brush from his hands. He pouted as he stared up at her. “Let me.” She insisted.

He scoffed and waved his hand.

Ok so when he said they were half a bottle of vodka in…. that maybe kinda was sort of all him…. maybe. “M’fine!” He protested but let his head fall back on the pillows as she took his foot carefully into her lap and continued his pitiful attempts to paint his nails.

“Mhmm.” She agreed. “Sure. I’ve ordered pizza. I think you’ll need it. You owe me big time, Jask.”

“S’not my fault. It’s Geralt’s fault!” He babbled. “And Yennefer. Damn witch! Bloody seductress. Fuck.” He groaned and pulled his arms to his chest. His heart fucking ached and he felt so empty.

“Did he at least break up with you kindly?” Pris asked with shining cornflower blue eyes that matched his own, a present from their mother. “I have contacts. He will pay sorely for this.”

Jaskier choked on his own breath and propped himself up, ignoring the spinning in his head. “Break up with me?” He asked. “Why would he need to break up with me?!”

Priscilla furrowed her brow. “Because you were dating?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

“Noooo….” Jaskier elongated the word with a shake of his head. The movement made the whole room spin and he had to close his eyes to stop the nausea. “No. We weren’t.” _________

Geralt and Jaskier

Geralt raced home from the restaurant, fleeing the table and promising Yen that he would pay her back. He had to get to Jaskier. Fuck. Had he really been so blind to his friend’s affections? He’d had a crush on his housemate since university but Jaskier flirted so opening and charmingly with every person he met except for Geralt that Geralt had be resigned to the fact he would only ever be Jaskier’s friend.

Jaskier.

The one constant thing in his life. Even Yen flitted in and out as she pleased but Jaskier stayed. He wanted to stay. Geralt had grown used to the close intimacy of friendship with him and moving in together had just made sense. It was cheaper than living alone and for all of Jaskier’s romantic exploits he couldn’t seem to find anyone who wanted him.

Not like Geralt wanted him. “Fuck.” He cursed and pulled his key from his pocket. He fumbled with the lock.

Apparently their entire friendship group thought they were dating, that Jaskier was his boyfriend. The way they would always curl up together on film nights, or share food and drinks when they went out for dinner, even the way Jaskier grasped onto his arm as they walked side by side, it had all been evidence to their relationship. Oh and Geralt was naturally the last to know that Jaskier was hopelessly in love with him and had been for years. Yen admitted that she’d known since the beginning, his brothers had both found out when Jaskier had visited them for Christmas the first time, and that was two years ago.

The door swung open and he barrelled into the living room. He almost slipped on a pizza box but managed to dance around it just as Jaskier landed in his arms. Instinctively he caught his friend. He was used to Jaskier leaping at him like this. The musician stank of booze and pizza but it was the redness in his eyes that drew Geralt’s attention.

“I’m… I’m just going to leave?” Priscilla gave an awkward wave. “Be good to him Geralt. You owe him that much.”

“I know. Thank you, Pris.” Geralt nodded before carrying Jaskier upstairs to his bedroom.

“At least buy me a drink first.” Jaskier mumbled as Geralt dropped him to the bed.

Geralt laughed but cupped his friend’s cheek. “You’ve been crying.”

“I was sad.” Jaskier admitted. His speech was slurred but Geralt had been looking after drunk Jaskier for years. He was fluent in drunk Jaskier. “Crying helps.”

“Because of me.” Geralt sighed and brushed Jaskier’s fringe out of his eyes. “I didn’t know.”

“Because I didn’t want you know. I didn’t want you to leave like everyone else.” Jaskier half sobbed and yanked away from Geralt’s touch, burying his face in the bed sheets.

“I would never leave you, Jaskier.”

“Everyone does. No one ever lets me stay.” Came the muffled reply. “I’m too loud, I love too freely, it’s all too much. So they leave.”

“Hmm.” Geralt said thoughtfully. “Everyone else seemed to think we were already dating, so what would really change if I were to say I loved you too.”

“Don’t.” Jaskier snapped, not lifting his head from the pillow but swatting Geralt blindly with his hand. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“We would go out together, which we already do. We would fall asleep together after watching a film, which we already do. I’d say you could meet my family but you know them all already and I’ve met yours.” Geralt listed off and he stroked his hand through Jaskier’s hair. “Or maybe we could move in together, start a life together. I’ll wash up and you can dry. You never like getting your hands wet and it’s easier to dance around the kitchen when you aren’t stuck by the sink.”

Jaskier rolled over with a sigh. “Alright, you bastard. You’ve made your point.”

“So if I love you, which I do. What would change?” Geralt smirked.

“Well you could start by kissing me.” Jaskier pouted.

Geralt laughed and kissed Jaskier’s head. “You’re drunk, love.”

“Noble fool.” Jaskier groaned. “One kiss, I promise I’ll behave.”

Geralt tilted his head. One kiss wouldn’t hurt. “Do you promise you’ll remember it? We only get one first kiss.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and pulled Geralt down for a kiss. His lip ghosted over Geralt’s. “I promise.” He swore and at last their lips met.

_________

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#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #witcher netflix #modern au #wolfie's witcher writing #Anonymous

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

Just A Line Without A Hook

Pairing: Hinata X Reader

Words: 5.9K

Summary: You and Hinata share your point-of-views during important milestones throughout your relationship.

A/N: This is a full relationship development and I’m very proud lol hopefully you can find some joy in it :3

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

Hinata was weird.

That lurked in your mind as you leaned on a conspicuously sticky bar table listening to him tell you his entire life’s story. Your original intent for the night had been to quickly pop into Yachi’s birthday party since you worked at the butt crack of dawn. Give her the present and maybe have a drink. Whatever you did it was meant to be fast.

Too bad you had never been good at sticking to plans.

“I moved to Brazil right after high school to learn beach volleyball,” Hinata said, his smile soft as he looked longingly in the distance. “But I didn’t explore as much as I should have. I really want to go back.”

“Out of high school?” You cocked your head to the side, “that’s wild. I moved to Tokyo and still felt completely out of place.”

“Well, it didn’t go too hot at first.” He scratched his cheek. “I actually got my wallet stolen my first week there…”

You fought to keep lips from pulling into a smile.

There was something in the carefree way he carried himself that made it hard to turn away. The moment Yachi introduced you there was an odd sense of comfort that washed over you. Which made no sense because you had known absolutely nothing about the guy-aside from him being a professional volleyball player and attending high school with Yachi.

Still, it was no reason to let your guard down.

“Sounds like they took advantage of the clueless foreigner,” you teased, curious butterflies tickling your abdomen when he pouted. “I’ve always thought Italy looked cool. If I could travel somewhere.”

Hinata’s lips mindlessly curved into a relaxed smile as you spoke, as if that was their default expression when not preoccupied. And it made conversation with him easy. It dissipated your usual anxieties about overthinking every action or word. You truly felt like you could be yourself and just exist within his presence.

“I have a friend in Italy!” Hinata said, elation lighting up his amber eyes. He began drawing circles in the condensation of his glass with an awkward laugh. “I think anyway. He travels all over the place, but he was in Italy last I knew.”

“That’s so cool,” your jaw went a little slack. You didn’t know people actually did stuff like that.

“Yeah Noya’s the best,” Hinata nodded resolutely. “He visited me for a while in Brazil. I taught him some Portugese and we played beach volleyball. He was so jealous everyone called me Ninja Shoyo. It was awesome.”

Hinata could speak Portugese? Ninja Shoyo?

So many questions…

“What’s a Ninja Sho-” You began until your phone lit up after receiving a message and you realized just how late it was. “Oh my god, I have to go.”

“Wait,” Hinata interrupted you mid-frantic scrabble to zip your jacket. You furrowed your brow at the smartphone he placed unlocked on the table between you. “Could I-uh-you know… talk to you again sometime?”

You blinked a few times before swiping the device off the bar’s gross table. “Yeah,” you said, a warmth you didn’t recognize filling your chest as you created your contact. “I’d like that.”

An absentminded smile painted Hinata’s face after you waved good-bye and when you stepped outside beneath the light snowfall you realized your lips were curved to match. But there was still too wide a gap between how little you knew about Hinata and how much you desired to be close to him. That new part of you burned too bright in your chest to be ignored.

And you would simply have to change that.

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

Hinata huddled in the corner of the gymnasium over his duffle bag, staring at his cellphone in case he received a last second message. His eyes flickered between the ticking clock above the bleachers and his phone’s black screen, stomach sinking as the seconds passed. He anxiously unlocked his phone to scroll through and analyze his last conversation.

Had he said something wrong? He supposed he’d never actively tried to flirt before, so it wasn’t unlikely he offended you somehow. He furrowed his brow and chewed on his thumbnail, rereading his last message. Maybe he overdid it with the emojis?

Wait, were you at work? You could also just be busy. Maybe he was just overthinking everything…

“Why are you crouched in the corner like a creep?” Atsumu crept up behind him, eyeing him suspiciously.

Hinata jumped, shoving his phone back into his duffle bag. “Nothing.”

“Bull shit. You’ve been acting off for weeks,” Atsumu squatted to Hinata’s eye-level and leaned forward with a sly grin. “Someone’s keeping secrets.”

A warmth rushed to Hinata’s face. He was a terrible liar if questioned directly. “I wouldn’t keep secrets from you guys. I mean, we’re practically family now.” he chuckled unconvincingly.

“Right,” Atsumu gave him a once-over before standing. Hinata let out a relieved sigh that he’d been spared for now.

“What’s happening over here?” Bakuto boisterously called out while skipping over to the boys. Sakusa trailed behind him with his hands shoved deep into his sweatpant’s pockets.

“Hinata’s lying out his ass.”

Hinata whipped around toward Atsumu with his jaw slack. The audacity of this guy. “I am not!”

“The guy’s zoning out at practice, making heart eyes at his phone, and fucking notre daming over his duffle?” Atsume raised his brows at Hinata. “Either he’s getting scouted for a different team or he’s dating someone.”

“You’re leaving the team?” Sakusa asked monotone, as if he couldn’t care either way. If Hinata wasn’t used to the constant monotone he’d be offended.

“No,” he denied, qualming Bokuto’s prepared puppy-dog eyes. “And I’m not dating anyone.”

Which wasn’t a lie. You were nothing more than a friend at this point. Even if his heart ignited a flame anytime your name crossed his mind.

“A crush then,” Atsumu waved him off. “Either way a massive Hinata life development you lied to us about.”

“I didn’t lie, I just,” Hinata wrinkled his nose while thinking of ways out of the predicament. “I think Shugo is calling to start practice. We should probably-”

“You’ve got a crush?” Bokuto’s eyes appeared to sparkle when he flung an arm around Hinata’s shoulder. “Who is it? Do we know them? You don’t need to sweat Hinata I’m an excellent wingman.”

Hinata waved his hands in front of him. “You don’t know them and it’s okay. You really don’t have to-”

“Oh, don’t be so considerate. We’re offering our services Hinata.” Atsumu said smugly while Bokuto nodded excitedly.

Hinata forced a half-smile. This had been exactly what he wanted to avoid. If his feelings were just a measly crush he would have gladly brought them up to the guys, but they were way more extreme then that.

“I’m not offering anything,” Sakusa raised his brows slightly in Hinata’s direction before walking off. “Good luck.”

“Buzz kill.” Atsumu pouted.

“Look, this is more complicated than you guys realize,” Hinata brushed Bokuto’s arm off his shoulders. “I can’t really explain it, but I don’t think you guys can help me.”

“Hinata, it’s okay. We all have our faults. Some more than others, but we’re here for you.” Atsumu patted his shoulder understandably and Hinata shot him a glare.

“Akaashi always tells me to ‘just be yourself’.” Bokuto nodded proudly, clasping his fist with determination. “Then you’ll attract the people who are meant to be in your life.”

Hinata blinked a few times. That… was really good advice.

“That’s stupid,” Atsumu scoffed. “You gotta stalk them on all social media. Analyze their personality and figure out exactly what they're into. Learn their ins and outs and become their type.”

That… was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

“I don’t know Atsumu, that sounds kind of wrong,” Bokuto tapped his chin and Atsumu pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed deeply.

“Okay, but numbers don’t lie and I have the highest success rate.”

Bokuto and Hinata tilted their heads mulling that one over. No. It still seemed dumb.

Hinata zoned off as Bokuto and Atsumu began debating the morals of online stalking and the value of Akaashi’s opinions. He already knew that if he wanted real help picking apart the fire in his chest he’d have to talk to someone who’d take him seriously like Yamaguchi. Then he’d actually get to dissect the confusing emotions in his heart-look at them from all angles.

Learn to understand them and tend to them properly. Help them grow.

He watched Atsumu chase a cackling Bokuto around the gym until their captain Shugo scolded them. Hinata smirked. Even if they weren’t the most helpful he still appreciated knowing he had people willing to help him... in their own way.

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

You and Hinata spent the majority of your free time together, but even after several months it was nothing more than two friends placing comfort in each other’s company. Most Thursdays it was normal to find Hinata lounging on your living room sofa. He watched some volleyball commentary video on his cellphone, legs propped lazily on the armrest, while you answered work emails at your coffee table.

On a normal Thursday night you would continue whatever show you’d been watching-currently Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood-but tonight you were stuck finishing last minute work. You heaved a sigh and glanced over your shoulder at Hinata, his breathing relaxed while his eyes flickered across his phone’s screen.

You weren’t oblivious to your feelings. Maybe at first you were able to brush them off as excitement about a new friend, but they had shifted into something intense. Always festering in the forefront of your mind throughout your daily routine.

It became obvious when you noticed you spent more time counting the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose than focusing on conversations. When you realized you spent more time at work trying to pin-point the exact shade to call his hair than getting actual work done. Even more so when your heart would do acrobatics at the sound of his voice whenever you talked on the phone.

No matter how you looked at it, it became impossible to deny.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You looked back again and Hinata’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern, his earbuds pulled out and phone placed on his stomach.

“Yeah,” you half-smiled and he raised his brows to show he clearly didn’t believe you. You let out a breathy laugh, breaking the eye-contact to lean back against the couch and place your head on his bicep. “I’m just thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teased, a hand gently placed on the crown of your head.

“Shut up,” you said with no bite behind your words.

He snorted, rubbing his thumb against the top of your head. “...what if I was also thinking?”

“That’s probably more dangerous than me thinking,” you laughed, rubbing your socked toes together with a soft smile. When he didn’t respond you twisted around to check on him, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Hinata?”

“Nevermind.”

You gripped the couch cushion for support as you leaned in slightly. There was no way for you to be sure, but you could have sworn Hinata was blushing.

“What were you thinking about?” You questioned. Your heart was beating a million times a second in your chest and there was something akin to hope burning beside it.

Hinata looked in your eyes challengingly, “what were you thinking about?”

“You.”

He seemed taken aback by your bluntness, but brushed it off quickly. “I want to kiss you.”

Your eyes widened. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room as you stared into his hopeful amber eyes.

“Well, do it then.” You responded, barely above a whisper. Hinata took a while to process, but once he had his face lit up crimson.

His hand cradled the side of your face and you watched him carefully, allowing him to make the moves. You kept your mind blank so as not to overthink the situation, but you hoped at least one brain cell was functioning enough to get you through it.

The kiss Hinata pressed against your lips was a little too hesitant, too off-center, and too brief. Yet the beaming smile he gave you afterward sent your heart into a frenzy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The dopey smile on your lips felt too embarrassing and you buried your face against Hinata’s chest.

After a little coaxing with promises of television and snacks you peeked back up, happily met with Hinata’s dazed smile. The rest of the night was spent wrapped in each other’s arms and supplying random kisses because ‘they definitely needed practice’; ending with Hinata falling asleep in your bed for the first, but definitely not last, time.

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

Hinata hated being sick.

He hated fighting through a thick fog to collect words when stringing together sentences was usually effortless. He hated the pounding headaches following any light reaching his unfocused eyes. And Hinata especially hated his fit lungs struggling through breaths that came out raspy and weak through his aching throat.

Nothing good came from being sick. It was a lesson he learned long ago.

“You need to sleep,” you whispered against the crown of his head, your fingers carding gently through his sweaty locks. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against the cool skin at your collarbone while gripping your shirt at your shoulder.

Unfortunately, you were making it really hard for him to hate anything anymore.

“You’re going to get sick,” he pointed out, voice scratchy from his throat’s soreness.

You hummed dismissively, planting a small kiss on the top of his head. “My immune system’s pretty strong.”

Hinata knew it didn’t work that way, but was too selfish to argue your flawed logic. The bare skin of your neck helped chill his overheated forehead and he cuddled ever closer into you, twining your legs together. He wrinkled his nose when he realized how gross his fever was probably making him.

He’d have to wash your sheets and stuff when he was feeling better.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he pouted.

“That one’s gonna have to wait,” you chuckled lightly, beginning to rub soothing circles into his lower back. The vibrations from your voice sent a pleasant shiver down Hinata’s spine and the corners of his lips lifted. “You know, you’ll get better faster if you sleep.”

“But I wanna stay awake with you,” Hinata whined, lazily beginning to trace designs on your shoulder. The world was so cruel.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” you said, barely above a whisper. Hinata grumbled a nonsense of a response and you chuckled lightly. You fell silent for a long enough period that Hinata began believing you fell asleep before him until you asked, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah,” Hinata yawned, snuggling against your chest. “I love secrets.”

Silence enveloped his apartment again and Hinata almost dozed off.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

He blinked himself back to consciousness while the words rolled over in his mind. He froze. The fast paced rhythm of your heart was the only source available to keep him grounded as his foggy brain worked to unpack your words.

Love?

He glanced up to meet your nervous eyes paired with flushed cheeks. He stared in disbelief while you continued to patiently wait for his reaction. This better not be some sort of fever induced hallucination.

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” he said, eyebrows creased. Aside from his mom and Natsu, obviously, but he figured you’d know what he meant.

The corner of your mouth lifted into a hopeful half-smile. “Well, I’m honored.” Your touch was gentle as you brushed the hair back from his forehead. He subconsciously leaned into your touch with a wondrous stare and his eyes scoured your face for his answer.

Except you were the answer.

“I’ve never been in love before, but…” He struggled for the right words-any words-settling on what he could piece together at the moment. “I feel like things are better when you’re here. Like, I can do anything I hope to and more. I just feel happier when I’m with you and it’s easier and everything makes sense…” He wrinkled his nose. “Is… is that love?”

You cradled his fevered cheeks tenderly. “I think that’s for you to decide Hinata.”

He nodded to himself. “Okay,” he said determinedly. “Then yeah. It is, I love you, (Y/N).”

“I’m glad,” you smiled, looking at him with an affectionate stare that set his heart ablaze. He took a deep breath before disappointedly letting his forehead drop to your chest.

“Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad.”

You let out a bubble of laughter, rubbing your thumbs tenderly against his cheeks. “We’ll make up for it plenty when you’re feeling better.”

He tried to hold back a smirk, but failed. “Fine.”

“Now go to sleep,” You ordered, planting a quick peck to the top of his head.

He grumbled half-assed as he situated himself more comfortably, but Hinata was all talk at this point. His eyelids were heavy with sleep and his heart hummed with contentment. He was in love. A smile dusted his lips as he began drifting off.

Maybe being sick wasn’t so bad after all.

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

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at your boyfriend across the couch chowing down on take-out sushi. Hinata’s eyes were glued to the television’s screen, his hand alternating between shoveling food into his mouth and rubbing mindless circles on your shin across his lap. Things were comfortable, easy, perfect some might even say.

Too perfect.

“Why aren’t we fighting?”

Hinata turned, cheeks stuffed with food and eyebrows raised with surprise. Under normal circumstances you’d consider it adorable, but you wanted to be serious.

He swallowed with a wince before raising an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

“No, but we’ve been dating for a while and we haven’t had the big fight.”

“We fight all the time,” he placed his plate on the coffee table with a roll of his eyes. You huffed because he clearly wasn’t on the same page. “Just yesterday I was pissed because you left an empty container of milk in my fridge.”

“It wasn’t empty.”

“There was a dribble. That’s not enough for-” He put up a hand and took a breath. “Not the point. Point is: we fought right?”

“That was hardly a discussion.” You waved him off. He had angrily brought it up, you kissed him sorry, and he forgave you. Hinata didn’t know how to hold a grudge and all you had to do was buy him more milk.

“Okay, a few weeks ago then. You fell in the toilet because I forgot to put the seat down.” He nodded confidently. “You woke me up in the middle of the night for that one.”

You shuddered at the memory of being shocked into full consciousness by falling into a pool of your own piss. In your shocked state you may have chosen violence and decided to pick a fight with Hinata at three in the morning, but it was well deserved.

“Okay, but that’s not what I mean.”

“Are you sure?” He raised a brow. “Waking up with my girlfriend on top of me and slowly realizing she’s threatening to end my bloodline kind of feels like a fight.”

“Okay, that’s-” You pinched the bridge of your nose and ignored his amused smirk. “I’m talking about relationship ruining fights.”

He tilted his head, clearly not following you.

“Like, you insult me using some secret I’ve only divulged to you and I leave crying with no self-esteem.” You explained with exaggerated hand gestures and his nose wrinkled. “Or I walk in on you having an explicit affair with Kageyama, or maybe you get drunk and I over hear you talking with-”

He put both his hands up, “back it up. What the hell was that last one?”

“An explicit affair?” You blinked a few times and cocked your head to the side. “With… Kageyama?”

“Yeah that’s what I-we’re gonna unpack that later.” He palmed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Anyway, why would any of this happen?”

“Because that’s what always happens.” You answered honestly. Maybe you sounded like a pessimist, but that was just the reality of the world. At least, you had never seen it work any other way. “So just… tell me how it’s going to happen.”

Hinata looked crestfallen at your statement and the dejected look in his eyes made your heart sink to your stomach. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to question your sanity, but was taken back when he crawled forward to rest his head on your chest.

“If I ever hurt you like that,” he mouthed against your collarbone. “I would never forgive myself.”

Your heart raced and you brought a hand to card through his unruly locks, nodding to acknowledge his words.

“Don’t overthink,” he said, kissing your neck softly. “If we’re good then we’re good. Maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.”

Your lips curved into a small smile and you nodded again. You let yourselves just exist with him for a while. Heart’s beating in unison while you twirled tufts of autumn through your fingers. His lips dusting across your neck as he whispered loving affirmations against you. And maybe he was right.

Maybe it was just meant to be.

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

Hinata moved expertly around his kitchen preparing breakfast, sneaking glancing at you perched drowsily beside the stove adorning one of his larger shirts. Obviously it wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like that-hair mussed, eyes heavy with sleep, in only his clothes-but it still warmed his heart when you existed so casually in space. Like you belonged there.

His lips curved into a smile as he cracked several eggs into a heated frying pan. The dull thudding of your heels hitting a cupboard mixed with the sizzling on the pan for the background of your comfortable silence. Even without conversation his life felt brighter in your presence and he was thankful his apartment was such a convenient location for the both of you.

You yawned deeply, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and finally focusing on him. Hinata selfishly wished you could be with him more often. The days he woke up without you were the coldest.

“What are you staring at?” You slurred with another yawn.

Hinata shot you a lopsided grin, “my beautiful girlfriend.”

You side-eyed him with an amused smirk, “kiss ass.”

Hinata slid the eggs onto a couple plates before going to stand in front of you. You raised a curious brow, but weren’t given enough time to voice a question before he pressed his lips to yours. His mouth curved into a smile against yours-another reason he loved you being here so often was it meant more of this.

Your hands cradled his face as he appreciated that you still tasted like mint from his borrowed toothpaste this morning. Another subtle way he’d nudged himself into your life he realized, toying with the bottom of his shirt you were wearing.

“What’s this for?” You asked, sliding your hands over his shoulders and hooking them behind his neck.

“I just love you,” he replied earnestly. Your fingers laid a scorching touch as they teased the baby hairs on his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. Hinata took his time with languid kisses-he could kiss you a million times and the hunger for more would always linger.

Your breaths were heavy when you pulled back to place your forehead against his, eyeing him with pure affection that set his heart ablaze. “I love you too, Shoyo.”

He trailed his knuckles down your cheek and relished in the way you leaned into his touch. How had he gotten this luck? Hinata placed a tender kiss on your forehead, temple, cheekbone, tip of your nose, and finally on your lips.

“You should move in.”

Hinata’s eyes widened in shock at his own question because that had been the last thing he’d planned on doing this morning. Well, the suggestion was out there and it’s not like he wanted to take it back...

You blinked several times as you processed. “With you?”

“Ideally.”

You furrowed your brow while mulling it over and Hinata counted his heartbeats to stay grounded. Worst case scenario you say no and things are awkward for a bit. Best case scenario he takes a large step forward with the love of his life.

Oh god, he should’ve planned this better.

“Okay.”

“I understand,” Hinata sighed. “It was totally random and I shouldn’t have expected-did you say yes?”

“Yeah,” your cheeks flushed and you bit your bottom lip to fight down a smile. “I mean, I’m here most of the time anyway, right?”

Hinata nodded mindlessly before a face splitting grin covered his features and he scooped you off the corner. You squealed while he spun you around with a bright laugh, interrupting any of your comments with a passionate kiss. While you were busy tangling your fingers into his unruly hair he glanced toward his bedroom’s door.

There was probably enough time to celebrate.

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

“She’s beautiful,” you said in awe, cradling the swaddled newborn in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, tiny breaths leaving her partly open mouth. The baby looked too fragile for this world, features too small and delicate to be realistic.

She was amazing.

“Well, she’s our daughter,” Tanaka’s chest puffed up proudly. He sat beside Shimizu on her hospital bed with an arm hung loosely around her. “Obviously she’s going to be perfect.”

You wouldn’t fight his dramatics; he deserved to be happy today.

“What’s her name?” Hinata breathed. Seated beside you he leaned heavily against your side to observe the baby.

“Sayori,” Shimizu yawned. She and Tanaka had deep bruises under their eyes, and you smirked knowingly down at the sleeping demon in disguise.

Hinata hesitantly moved his hand toward Sayori before planting it back on his lap. You raised a brow, reaching over with the hand not helping cradle Sayori’s head and grabbed his forefinger. Hinata looked at you panicked, but relaxed as you guided him toward Sayori’s small fist that pressed gently against her pink cheeks.

When she instinctively wrapped her fingers around his forefinger his eyes widened and he whipped his gaze to you. “She grabbed my finger,” he whispered.

“They do that,” you smirked, a frenzy of butterflies attacking your stomach as he stared at Sayori wondrously.

“That’s amazing.”

“Okay, stop using my kid as a way to feed your baby fever.” Tanaka huffed. Shimizu elbowed him in the stomach and a warmth trickled up your face when his words hit you.

“What’s a baby fever?” Hinata asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is it dangerous?”

“No,” you stumbled over a reply that wouldn’t make the situation incredibly awkward. “It’s when you, uh, want kids.”

“Oh,” Hinata shrugged, bouncing his finger to play with Sayori’s hand. “What’s wrong with eventually wanting kids?”

“That’s not-”

“No, it means you want a kid now.” Tanaka emphasized by smacking the hospital bed. “Like, go home immediately and make a baby level now.”

Hinata blinked a few times before his face lit up red, “oh.”

You nodded awkwardly and both of you remained quiet while Shimizu chastised Tanaka in the background. One of you should probably deny the baby fever thing… right? You glanced over to Hinata, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he stared intently at Sayori.

“Okay, Sayori needs to eat soon, so I’m kicking Hinata out.” Tanaka announced.

Hinata didn’t put up any fights and you passed Sayori back to Shimizu, making plans to see each other again soon. You offered your services for future babysitting with Hinata’s vigorous agreeing behind you and they were more than grateful for it. Regardless Tanaka shooed you out when Sayori began wriggling in Shimizu’s arms.

As you and Hinata made your way to the metro that would bring you to your apartment complex the air between you was heavy. An obvious awkwardness that was harder to ignore the longer you walked together.

“I’m not surprised their baby ended up looking so cute,” you laughed, filling the space with nervous chatter. “Shimizu is really pretty.”

He nodded, looking up at the cloudless sky thoughtfully. “Do you think our baby would be cute?”

Your heart rate quickened at the idea. It wasn’t like you’d never thought of it, but talking about it outloud was a completely different monster. “I think it would have pretty great genes.”

He nodded, furrowing his brow at the sidewalk ahead.

Hinata wasn’t an idiot. Neither of you were ready for something like that. Several nights ago you’d decided to get drunk and attempt making meat buns-you’d nearly set the kitchen on fire. That doesn’t scream parent material.

On a larger scale, Hinata had just been selected for Japan’s Olympic team. There just wasn’t time for something like that. No, a baby wasn’t realistic.

However...

“What’s our apartment’s pet policy?”

He turned to you with a raised brow, “probably an extra fee and a weight limit. Why?”

You smirked mischievously at him, “want to get a dog?”

His jaw dropped. “Oh my fu-can I name it?”

“Only if I get to pick the breed.”

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” Hinata grasped your hand and yanked you toward the closest metro station. “Look up the closest pet store and let’s go!”

You chuckled, allowing him to pull you toward a random station that probably wouldn’t lead you where you needed. It would work out in the end. Things always seemed to fall perfectly into place with HInata.

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

Hinata glared across the roll of wrapping paper at the small puppy crushing the end of the tube, tearing edges of red and white striped paper with its sharp teeth. Hinata tugged it out of the pup’s mouth, but that only encouraged the behavior as it leapt forward to chew with more vigor.

“Can you grab your son?” Hinata waved the roll around, letting the Shiba Inu chase the end that Hinata held just out of reach. “He’s making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

You paused your typing at the dining table and giggled at Hinata’s antics. After closing the laptop you jogged over to scoop the puppy up, flipping him over in your arms to rub its belly. The puppy let its tongue hang out and wagged its tail vigorously at the attention.

“Oh, Deku, are you giving your dad a hard time,” you cooed down at the puppy, lifting him to look him in the eyes with a furrowed brow. “That’s not very nice.”

Hinata rolled his eyes fondly at your pathetic attempt of scolding while Deku licked you on the nose. Just several months old and he already knew how to manipulate people with his cuteness.

“I bought our bullet train tickets,” you said while nudging him the roll of tape he’d started looking around for. “Natsu called me earlier. We decided that you and I should get there around 3.”

Hinata tore a piece of tape off with his teeth while he held the wrapping paper still around the boxed pair of rollerskates with his foot.

“We have to stop by Tanaka’s place before we head out,” Hinata wrinkled his nose at his poor wrapping job. “Noya’s visiting for a while and he wants to meet Deku.”

“Of course,” you smiled as you held a chew toy above Deku’s face so he could nibble on it in your lap. “We have some presents for Sayori, anyway.”

Oh yeah. You had split the present wrapping in terms of difficulty, so you had the pleasure of wrapping weirdly shaped toys while he was left with boxes. Somehow, his still turned out to be a disaster.

He could hear Natsu’s complaints already.

“The train doesn’t leave till one, so we should have plenty of time.” You stated once Hinata taped the final present, completing his small present tower. Deku wriggled himself free from your grip and immediately attacked the empty wrapping paper roll.

Hinata smiled absentmindedly as he watched Deku hold the tube still with his small paws as he gnawed the cardboard. He felt you crawl over, lying your head onto his lap as your eyes followed his to watch your dog-son together. He felt at peace, running his fingers through your hair while Deku wreaked mischief nearby.

He felt like he could never get happier than this, and he never wanted it to end.

“He really is a troublemaker,” you snorted as Deku dragged the tube across the living room proudly. “Gets it from you.”

Hinata rolled his eyes and pinched your cheek. “It’s because you let him do whatever he wants.”

“Do not!”

He chuckled, taking his time tracing your features. The curve of your cheekbones, the dip of your lips, the bridge of your nose-everything he’d kissed into his memory by now but still couldn’t get enough of.

Hinata’s heart burned bright as he ran his knuckles along your cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled softly, leaning subconsciously into his touch.

“I mean… I really love you, (Y/N).” Hinata grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “I think this is it.”

You met his stare for several moments before your cheeks reddened. “Oh.”

Hinata nodded, pressing a loving kiss to the back of your hand. “I just-I always want you with me and if it’s not you in the end then… then what’s the point?”

Your mouth fell slightly open and he felt your hand flex in his grasp. He assumed he made a mistake-said too much too fast-but his chest was so warm and full and it was hard to reign in his emotions when he got that way.

A smile blossomed across your face and it eased his anxieties when you held his cheek. “You’re it for me too, Sho.”

He blinked several times as the words rolled over in his mind. “Wha-really?” He twisted himself so he could look you in the eyes, begging for you to be telling the truth.

You nodded shyly, your face crimson. “Yeah. You have been. I’m not… I don’t think I’d be able to love anyone else ever again.”

It felt like he’d been hit by a train at your confession and he pressed his mouth against yours before he’d even processed the statement. Your content hum against his lips was enough to drive him insane.

“Well, I’m going to love you forever.” Hinata promised with a dopey smile. “So don’t even think about that.”

You snorted, but nodded anyway. Hinata glanced down at your lips again with hooded eyes and started leaning forward, but was rudely interrupted by a damp cardboard tube hitting his forehead.

He glanced up exhaustedly at the Shiba Inu puppy panting obliviously at the both of you, waiting patiently for the love and attention he knew he deserved. You pushed Hinata off to grab Deku, but he jumped into a play bow and jolted back when you reached for him.

Hinata smiled dazedly as you chased Deku around the apartment, juking around furniture to attempt to throw the puppy off-course. He had never felt so complete than he had in that moment because he realized that this was it for him.

It was you. It was him. It was a troublemaker dog. And it was a promise that you’d be together forever.

And that was pretty damn perfect.

#hinata shouyo #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata shoyo fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #msby black jackal #msby sakusa #miya atsumu #bokuto #kiyoko #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu x reader

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bellafarallones2 · 3 years

Note

From the meet uglies prompt list:

84. I’m not entirely sure who you are but we’ve been in a massive prank war ever since your first prank on your friend went awry and I was covered in paint

For JakeHollis, please? Sfw or nsfw! This screams them to me!

JakeHollis, SFW, very light angst, some absolutely weird vibes! QueerElfClub's Hollis cosplay is my headcanon for them always and forever

All told, Jake’s first day at Kepler High hadn’t been too bad. Barclay and Dani had told him roughly what to expect, including a rapid rundown of the Earth history he’d be looked at strangely for not knowing. So far, math was his favorite class, because it was the same as on Silvain. Mama had gotten him into something called AP BC Calculus, which seemed like far too many acronyms for a class about shapes. His next most favorite class was PE.

Now it was almost three, and the final bell had rung. Packing up his backpack had taken so much time that the hallways were mostly empty, and he wandered idly, looking for the exit. Barclay was supposed to be picking him up somewhere called the “kiss and ride,” though Jake had been assured kissing was not mandatory. No signs pointed the way, and Jake knew better than to ask someone for directions. Teenagers were the same everywhere.

He found himself in a wing of the school none of his classes had been in, passing rooms labeled ORCHESTRA and BAND and COLOR GUARD EQUIPMENT STORAGE. The sound of music came through the walls.

Finally, though - miracle of miracles! - he saw the light of day, and hurried towards the door it was coming from. The door was even cracked open, and Jake pushed it open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Something hit his head.

Something that made a klang noise against his skull, and he thought for a moment his head had cracked - he didn’t know how fragile these disguises were - but no, there was something else dripping through his hair and down his face and down all over his new colorful jacket. He looked down. It was white and foul-smelling, and when he blinked his eyelashes clumped and stuck together.

Jake was fairly certain neither Dani nor Barclay had mentioned this. He could barely see, just the edges of a person saying oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought you were Keith, and tugging him back into the school, which was not at all where he wanted to go.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” the voice said, and Jake found himself in a restroom, without even the time to make sure it was the correct one - he needed to be in one called BOYS or MEN, or the one with a little outline of a person without a skirt. or GENTLEMEN. (Barclay knew a long list of things he’d seen printed on bathroom doors.)

But here he was, and he bent to the sink to wash his face and came up dripping. Then he repeated the introduction he’d given so many times already today.

“I’m Jake,” he said. “Dani’s brother.” (People knew Dani; she’d graduated only two years earlier. He told teachers he was Barclay’s brother. Barclay was a little older, but a better student than Dani had been.)

“Oh,” said the person. “I think I had an art class with her. I’m Hollis.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Hollis had curly black hair and brown skin, and the sleeves of their shirt were tattered like they’d been cut off and not hemmed afterwards. When they rubbed at the stuff on Jake’s sleeve with a wet paper towel he could see the fine line of muscle beneath the skin in their arm.

Jake took a deep breath. “Do you think you could point me towards the kiss and ride?”

By the time Jake climbed into Barclay’s truck, he was as clean as one could get with hand soap and paper towels.

“How was your first day?” said Barclay, tactfully not saying anything about the paint.

“Fine. I’m really glad you and Dani told me so much about what to expect. But when I was trying to find my way out at the end of the day a bucket of paint fell on my head.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Someone helped me clean up, though. Their name’s Hollis. I think we’re friends now?”

“Well, that’s nice.”

“One girl in my homeroom brought in brownies to share with everybody because it was her birthday. Are you allowed to do that even if it’s not your birthday?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Can I bring in cupcakes tomorrow? The ones you make are really good and I think people would like me if I gave them some.”

Barclay looked over at him, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll make you some cupcakes.”

The cupcakes were gorgeous. Each was as the platonic ideal of what a cupcake should be, the cupcake held before the fire to cast a shadow in Plato’s confectionary cave. The cake part was delicate and moist and yellow, and the frosting was pink, dusted with rainbow sprinkles.

“Oh,” said Jake’s homeroom teacher when she saw him come in carrying the lovingly packed tray. Barclay had put crumpled saran wrap between each cupcake so they wouldn’t knock into each other. “Is it your birthday, Jake?”

“Nope! But I brought cupcakes for everyone.”

“Alright,” said the teacher. “You can start passing them out now, if you’d like.”

Jake held out the tray to each person in the first few rows in turn, receiving varyingly sincere ‘thank you’s in return. But sitting in the back corner by the window was Hollis, and when Jake got to them, he didn’t hold out the tray. No, he selected the most perfect cupcake there was, cupped its soft bottom, and shoved the perfect pink frosting into Hollis’ perfect face.

“Oops,” Jake said sweetly.

“Jake!” said the teacher. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

But Hollis was already laughing, wiping pink frosting off their face and licking it off their fingers. “It’s fine, Ms. B., we’re in a prank war.”

“Well, please refrain from waging it in my classroom!”

“I’m sorry,” said Jake. He’d never heard the phrase prank war before, but the word war he didn’t like at all. War was the slowly narrowing boundaries of habitable land, war was an enemy that was somehow both inuman and implacably angry.

The boy sitting to Hollis’ left was looking up at Jake with something like shock and anger in his face. Looking away, Jake held out the plate of cupcakes to him so he could select his own.

Jake still had trouble finding the cafeteria, and so most of the students were seated when he arrived. He was scanning looking for a seat where he wouldn’t be intruding on someone else’s friend group when Hollis’ waving hand caught his attention. “Yo, Jake! Come sit with us?”

Jake hurried over. Before he reached the table Hollis elbowed the boy who was sitting next to them, the same one who’d been next to them in homeroom, and he scooted hurriedly over into the next seat so Jake could sit next to Hollis.

“Hello,” Jake said, nodding at each person at the table.

“This is Jake,” said Hollis. “He got me good in homeroom with a cupcake to the face.”

The others at the table laughed.

“Jake, this is Keith, Madison, and Ty,” Hollis continued, indicating the boy who’d been displaced, a girl with purple streaks in her long brown hair, and a boy with a mullet.

“Nice to meet you,” said Jake. He listened to them talk as he unpacked the lunch Barclay had packed him. A sandwich on part of a baguette, a chocolate-chip cookie, a honeycrisp apple (Jake had just been on earth long enough to have opinions about the different varieties of apples), and a note reminding him that Barclay loved him and wanted him to have a good day.

His tablemates were discussing what they were going to do over the weekend. Ty suggested going to Walmart, which was shot down on the grounds that they’d done that last weekend. No one’s parents were out of town, which eliminated the possibility of a house party.

“There’s nothing to do,” Madison whined.

“Can you drive places?” Jake asked.

Everyone went quiet. “Yep,” said Hollis. “When Madison’s parents let her use the car.”

It was Jake’s first autumn on earth, and from his bedroom window on the second floor of Amnesty Lodge he could see the leaves changing colors, red and orange and yellow between the bristles of the evergreens. “You could drive around and look at leaves. I’d like to come along, if that’s alright.”

Everyone was silent, deciding whether that was the lamest thing they’d ever heard or so lame it went straight through the other side into being kind of a good idea again.

“Fuck it,” said Hollis finally. “Let’s do it. And of course you’re invited, Jake, let me add you to the group chat.”

That Saturday, a silver Honda pulled up in front of Amnesty Lodge. Madison was at the wheel, Ty in the front passenger seat, and Keith sulking in the back. Behind it was a sleek motorcycle, and the rider’s helmet reflected the autumn leaves above.

Hollis pulled off their helmet. Their hair was disheveled and gorgeous. “If it was five of us in the car someone would have had to sit in the middle back, and that sucks,” they said. “Hop on, Jake.” They were holding out a second helmet.

“Um,” said Jake, offering them a bottle of sparkling cider with gold foil around the neck. “I brought something for us to drink?” The agreement had been that they would drive to one of the pull-off spots along the highway and have drinks there.

“Sweet,” said Hollis. “Put it in the back of the car?”

When Jake opened the back door of the car he saw a case of white claw on the seat next to Keith. “Was I supposed to bring alcohol?” Jake said. “I could have.” There was wine at the lodge; sometimes on the weekends Mama and Barclay went wine-tasting together, because Dani’s ID said she wasn’t old enough.

“No, Jake, you’re fine,” Hollis said. “Climb on.”

Jake fit the helmet over his head and climbed onto the smooth leather seat of the motorcycle behind Hollis. “Hold on tight,” said Hollis.

The motorcycle roared to life like one of Silvain’s larger beasts. Then it leaped forward, swerving hard to veer around Madison’s parents’ car. Jake swallowed a shriek and held on tighter. He could no longer feel the soft fabric of Hollis’s shirt, only the beast beneath them and the wind tearing at their jackets and the red, orange, and yellow leaves racing by above.

By the time they reached the appointed meeting place the others weren’t even in sight.

“So,” said Hollis when they pulled their helmet off. “What brings you to Kepler?”

Jake knew how to lie, when presented with questions like this. But with Hollis they found they didn’t want to. “I got kicked out of my old school.”

Hollis’s eyebrows went up.

“For… stealing.” Stealing food, because his family’s traditional hunting grounds had been corrupted by the Quell, and everyone else had barely enough for themselves. The huge mounds of apples in the grocery store in Kepler were the first thing to convince him he’d been exiled to paradise.

“Damn, Jake. And here I thought you were so wholesome.”

Jake threw up a hang-ten. “Nah, I’m a real bad boy.”

“Are you… with anyone? From your old school?”

“Nope. Are you?”

“Nah.” Hollis took a deep breath. It was the first time Jake had noticed them breathing. Human beings had to breathe so frequently, he’d found, and he sometimes forgot to until his lungs reminded him. His old body had been able to hold its breath for over an hour, collapsing his lungs so he was sleekness against the water inside and out. Incompressible.

“Wanna make out?” said Hollis.

“Yeah,” said Jake.

Hollis leaned in and kissed him. The best part was how warm their lips were, how warm their face was, right up close to his. No, scratch that. The best part was how they smelled, a smell Jake hadn’t encountered on earth up to that point but knew now he could never get enough of. No, the best part was -

Tires on gravel. Jake startled, but Hollis didn’t stop kissing him, even as Madison honked the horn on her parents’ car.

To Jake, that was the most surprising thing, that Hollis would want to kiss him in front of their friends. Teenagers were the same everywhere.

#jakehollis #taz hollis #jake coolice #taz barclay #taz keith

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no-droids · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5: Of Metal and Men

Part five of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.1K OUR LONGEST SIN YET FOUNDLINGS

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, mild mild degredation whoops

A/N: Uhh this is so fluffy? wtf how come??/?

“Mando?”

“Hm.”

“I have to pee.”

He grunts. “So go pee.”

“I can’t see.”

“Turn on a light.”

“But…” You don’t even want to say the words aloud. You’ve so far convinced yourself that if you just never mention the fact that he’s got his helmet off right now, he’ll somehow forget to put it back on again.

It’s not that you necessarily want him to deviate from the ways of the Mandalore, obviously; you have more respect for his culture than that. No, it's just that. This is so nice. Hearing him speak without a modulator warping the natural frequency of his voice, being able to feel his skin directly under your lips with your face buried in the crook of his neck like this. Practically everything on this fucking ship is metal—the floor beneath you, the mechanics, the hull, the cockpit, the blasters, the armor. When he puts it on, he becomes nearly invincible; an unreadable, impenetrable fortress that abides by a strict code he rarely deviates from.

But without all that, he’s so… human. Not a Mandalorian, just a man. Everything that gives him prestige and recognition stripped away. Every weapon he straps to his body removed. The code he’s honored his entire life suspended in a paradisiacal loophole that you never want to end, even if it means having to walk around in the dark for the rest of your life.

He has to put the helmet back on at some point, you’re eventually forced to remind yourself. What starts out as an impossible task slowly becomes easier as the pressure in your bladder increasingly makes itself known, a reminder that you too are only human and sometimes humans have to pee soon after they wake up.

Which, y’know, a lot of times is okay. But sometimes, like right now, it really fucking isn’t okay. Because right now, his hand is so big and warm resting against your upper-back, shoved up underneath the fabric of your shirt and spread out across your shoulder blade. Right now you can feel his heartbeat through his chest, feel his lungs expand and contract slowly against you. The last thing you want is to move, and the darkness makes a perfect scapegoat.

You’re quiet for too long, apparently, because he eventually turns his chin to brush his lips against your temple. “Turn on a light. Just don’t look.”

You honestly don’t blame him. He hasn’t had as much time to contemplate the staggering predicament you’re in. “Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive, shiny.”

“Go. I trust you.”

Your lashes brush against his neck when your eyes pop open, and the giant pang you feel in your chest shouldn’t be nearly as debilitating as it is. You know he trusts you, it goes without saying. But it’s one thing to travel around the galaxy with him, cultivate that inherent trust that comes naturally with odd partnerships that work surprisingly well. He trusts you to look after the kid, trusts you to pilot and maintain his ship, trusts you to cauterize his wounds when he’s incapable of doing so. He even trusts you enough to fall asleep next to you, leaving himself unarmored and vulnerable in ways you know you’ll never truly be able to understand.

But this—this is entirely different. This is the Way. And he’s half-asleep right now, putting a proverbial blaster in your hand and painting a target on his livelihood, telling you he trusts you enough to uphold one of the strictest, most foundational pillars of his belief system for him.

Okay. Okay. If this is what he wants. You’re not sure you’d put nearly as much blind faith in your own abilities (pun totally intended), but okay. You trust him and apparently he trusts you, so by some weirdly paradoxical extension inwards, you’re just going to have to trust yourself, too. He’s always been a man of relatively few words, so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you that somehow only three of them work to provide you with more motivation than you’ve experienced in your entire life. If this is what he wants, then you’ll fight logic with gloves on and downright force yourself to see without seeing. Somehow.

You slowly start to wiggle out of his arms, but then pause for a second to tilt your chin up and press a soft kiss to his lips, trying not to get distracted from your task when he mmphs low in his throat and his hand comes up to cradle your jaw, holding you there for just a bit longer than you originally planned.

“Go,” he eventually breathes into your mouth.

“You’re not making this any easier.”

“Go.”

“Fuck—fine.” You carefully remove yourself and do your best to stand up on the blanket with unsteady legs, but then you stop for an entirely different reason, patting the skin on your bare hips in the pitch blackness to check. “Wait, hang on, did—did you not put any pants back on me last night?”

“…Was I supposed to?” Eventually comes from somewhere by your feet.

No. No, he most certainly was not. You’re honestly just surprised it took you this long to notice, especially since you’ve been subtly clenching your thighs and delaying the inevitable in the darkness for so long.

You don’t end up answering him, determined instead to find your way to the fresher without the use of sight so you can come back to him quicker. That’s easier said than done, though. It’s slow going from the start, trying to step over him without actually knowing exactly where he is, carefully tapping your toes to the ground three times before putting any weight on them and hoping you don’t accidentally step on anything important.

He takes the possibility away when you hear him sigh and strong fingers wrap themselves around your ankles in the dark, pulling and guiding your legs up over his body while muttering inaudibly under his breath. Something tells you he’s still getting used to having companions that are so blatantly helpless without him, but he does good in rising to the challenge regardless.

The second he releases you and you take a step forward off the blanket though, you immediately trip over something bulky and painfully hard on the floor, catching yourself just in time but managing to stub your toe in the process.

“Careful,” his voice says from behind you, over the loud clang echoing throughout the hull. “Beskar’s there.”

“Thanks, I almost tripped.” Once you get closer to the machinery standing upright against the far wall of the hull though, it’s a bit easier to see. The red and green lights act as your navigation beacons, stationary air traffic control wands guiding your turbulent body through the darkness.

The fresher light is fucking blinding when you finally make contact with the switch, and with the illumination comes an incredibly stern reminder to yourself not to look behind you. It… it’d be so easy, wouldn’t it? Turning your head just a fraction right now would be the equivalent of pulling a blaster’s trigger a mere inch—devastating, life-altering, and permanent, yet somehow so fundamentally easy.

You don’t, of course. It’s just the fleeting thought of it that jars you for a moment. You quickly shut the door behind you, use the toilet (annoyingly slanted thing you need to have a talk with him about soon, more of a weird space urinal than anything else and not really designed to be used by people with vaginas at all), and then wash your hands.

Your slightly damp fingers press tight to bridge over your eyes before you carefully open the door again, knowing you’re now facing him and the fluorescent light over the sink behind you is probably shining directly on him.

“Is it… safe?” You ask after a second.

“I’m not a rancor.” The sound of his voice makes you sigh in relief and your heart drop in disappointment simultaneously.

Modulated. Filtered, and familiar.

Sure enough, you peek through your fingers to see him laying back with an arm casually folded behind his head, his helmet back on. Even though the only skin you see is his bare hand resting on his stomach, he still looks fucking gorgeous like this—waiting silently for you in the make-shift bed you shared, blanket twisted around his lower half.

You pause there in the doorway so you can just admire him for a second. Relaxing, looking so trim and flexible in his long sleeved under-armor without all that beskar weighing him down. He looks back at you through the chrome visor, letting it tilt to the side and rest lazily in the cradle of his arm, and you suddenly remember with a jolt just how incredibly pantsless you are right now.

“Come here.”

Maker, he still makes you nervous. Stars, he had his mouth buried between your legs for longer than you can even imagine last night, why are you still so nervous? Is it the proximity? Just the literal act of seeing him in front of you? Not being able to feel like yourself around him unless he’s a disembodied voice in the darkness? Not being able to remember he’s an actual fucking person under there if you’re not actively touching his body in some way?

You feel… kind of shy now. Why? It’s like a flip inside you he can switch at will, just ever so subtly change his posture or tone of voice and bam—he’s dangerous, remember? He’s an underground bounty hunter, remember? He’s a mystery, he’s unpredictable—he’s an invincible, unreadable, impenetrable fortress, and you know absolutely nothing about him. Remember?

You trip over his armor again for an entirely different reason on your way back to him this time, despite how much better you can see now. You catch yourself once more, looking down at the offending pile of beskar like it did that on purpose, but then stop to consider it for just a second.

It’s just metal. And he’s just a man. You know he’s probably killed more people than you can count and he’s intimidating as all fuck, but you also know he stutters when he gets really worked up and decided to fall asleep next to you without his helmet on. Because he’s just a man, and men aren’t born with shields on their backs and visors covering their eyes and grenades in their hands. Not even Mandalorians.

So you slowly bend down and grab his hefty gloves, taking a moment to study them before fitting your comparatively small hands into each of them one at a time, flexing your fingers inside the fabric and feeling how much space the tips of them have to move before reaching leather.

He says your name shortly as you’re carefully stepping your right foot into his oversized boot. You ignore him, balancing precariously on one leg while your left foot slides in the other one. “Hey, guess who I am.”

“No.”

You reach down and lift the unexpectedly heavy ammo belt over your head, letting the thick leather drape between your breasts and come to rest just below the curve of your bare hip. “I’ll give you a hint,” you say, gathering the mass of dark fabric at your feet and making sure your butt doesn’t get caught on the thick bandolier when you rise back up again. You wrap the cape around your shoulders and lift your chin to tie it in a sloppy, makeshift little knot around your throat, fingers noticeably less nimble when confined in loose leather. “Handy with a blaster, not real big on droids. I also wear a helmet, probably because my face is too pretty to match my menacing vibe but those rumors are unconfirmed.”

“Come here,” he gruffs impatiently, but you just turn around and waddle back a few steps in the baggy getup, much too tiny feet clomping around awkwardly in his roomy boots and the floor-length cape dragging on the ground behind you.

And then you stop, before grabbing the hem of it and whipping around dramatically to face him, giving him your best bounty hunter pose.

“I can bring you in warm,” your voice is a deep as you can get it, your eyebrows narrowed as you fingergun and shift with flair. “Or—”

“Hey—careful—” he quickly sits up and points at your hand, “—don’t touch your thumb to the—”

“—I can bring you in—” And then an actual, real life, giant ass blaze of fucking fire suddenly shoots from your wrist and scares the living shit out of you so much that you stumble backwards and trip over your cape, choking and flailing as you come down hard on your bare ass.

You blink up at him from the ground with wide, terrified eyes. He looks back at you, arm outstretched and frozen in midair.

And then he laughs.

Mando actually fucking laughs at you.

You stare at him in utter shock as he abruptly drops his hand to his lap and his helmet to his chest, his shoulders shaking with it. As lovely and uplifting the sound is, you’re not really sure how to feel about the fact that the first time you managed to get an outright laugh out of him was at the risk of your own mortality.

“Excuse me,” you say after a second, trying your best to sound appalled. You carefully remove the death gauntlets with your hands extended as far away from your face as possible, fingers spread and thumb held completely rigid in position. “Are you actually laughing at the fact that I almost just died horrifically in front of you?”

“Stars, just—” he lifts his head back up to look at you, “fucking—come here. You’re worse than the kid is, I swear.”

You slowly stand up, and the boots are so big around your ankles that you don’t even have to kick them off, you can just leave them there in position on the floor as you lift your feet and begin walking over to him. “I’ll have you know I am a fierce bounty hunter—”

“Terrifying,” he mutters, and you’re about halfway done untying his cape when you get close enough for him to reach out and snatch the bottom of it, swiftly yanking you down on top of him and removing the fabric from your throat at the same time. He ignores your dramatic choking noise, catching your flailing body with barely a grunt. “Craziest in the guild. Your first kill was yourself.”

“Yeah, I—” you oof and giggle as he immediately flips you around, downright giddy at the ease with which he maneuvers you on the floor and gets on top of you, “—I bring them in warm, or I bring them in hot.”

“Stop,” you can hear his smile through the helmet as he catches each of your wrists and pins them to the ground by your head. “Maker.”

“Wait—” you try to wiggle out from under him. It’s futile, of course, not just because he’s all muscle while he holds you down and straddles your hips, but because all your body weight is now laying on top of his ammo belt as it slings around your chest. “Wait, h-hang on—the fresher light’s still on.”

“So?”

“So I can see you right now, which means—” you can’t take that stupid thing off your head and kiss me.

That’s what you want to say. You catch yourself just in time, biting your lip and blinking up at your warped reflection in the chrome visor. He releases your wrists and lifts his torso up tall. “…W-which means—”

Mando’s too smart for that, though. You’re not getting one by him anytime soon. Before you can come up with an alternative, he hooks his fingers under the thick band of leather trailing down through the valley between your breasts and calls you out.

“Do you want me to take my helmet off?” He asks, tilting his head down at you and letting his hand slide back and forth under the ammo belt idly. For a second you think he’s going to remove it, try and find some way to wiggle it off you in this position, but then he just lets the heavy bandolier drop back down to your sternum again and continues moving his hands down your tummy. “Hm? Or do you want to see?”

And then one of his thumbs catches the hem of his trousers and ever so slowly starts to pull the fabric downwards. Your breath stutters as tan skin and dark, coarse hair are gradually revealed right in front of your eyes, the hemline making a mouthwatering triangle shape that runs alongside the lines of his Adonis belt.

When he stops just at the very base of his cock, it takes you a second to realize he’s waiting for an answer.

“Uh—” Stars, what the fuck kind of harrowing, existentially crippling question is this? Kiss him or look at him? Is he serious? “Uhhhh…” You legitimately feel torn, blinking up at the visor and noticing the struggle blatantly written all over your reflection. Why in Maker’s name would he put this on you? On the one hand, his mouth. On the other hand, his—

“I want you to see,” he admits quietly, and you flick your eyes down to look at him slowly running his thumb along the slope of flesh peeking out of the dark curls. “Can I show you?”

Oh fuck, what is happening? And why are you so wet already?

“Uh… ye-yeah—” and then he’s immediately using his other hand to reach inside and shift up just a bit, before he eases his gorgeous cock out of his pants by cupping his balls and letting the fabric hooked in his thumb rest under them. He’s already half-hard for you, already deliciously thick as he carefully lowers himself back down again. Against all reason, his skin practically glows under the artificial lighting, somehow looking sunkissed in places that never see the sun.

Maker, you want it in your mouth.

You have no idea why that’s your first thought. Okay, well no, that’s not true—you know exactly why that’s your first thought, especially when you can physically see him getting harder and harder right in front of you, watch him trace his fingers down his shaft and lazily brush them over the head. You love the way he touches himself, how his hands look cradling the base, the beautiful contrast between the dark hair and his warm skin tone.

He slowly starts to move down your body, slide his legs back on either side of you until he’s straddling your lower thighs, and it’s not until his cock goes in the exact opposite direction you want it to (away from your mouth) that you find your voice.

“Hey, wait—I want—” his touch immediately stills along your hips and he lifts his helmet, letting you scramble to prop yourself up with your elbows, “—let me go down on you. Please.”

“I told you I’d fuck you when you woke up,” he says, dropping his gaze back down between your legs. His voice somehow sounds deeper through the filter. Maybe not the pitch exactly, but the… color? Fuller, darker, more depth. “You want to make me into a liar?”

“Never. Fuck my mouth instead.”

His hands tighten and his breathing subtly picks up through the modulator. “I want your pussy. First. We’re almost to Corellia and I’m not risking my life on another hunt until I’ve fucked it like I want to.”

“You decide that timeline,” you remind him breathlessly, pushing your upper-body up off the floor and catching the fabric of his tunic near his neck.

“I have to earn credits somehow, I can’t just—” he abruptly cuts himself off when you yank his collar to the side and lick a slow, hot, wet line up his throat. “—I… I-I can’t just stay on this ship with you f-forever and… and…”

His breath catches when you bite down on the thick cord of muscle connecting his neck to his shoulder. And then he murmurs your name when you wrap your hand around his hard cock.

“You can do whatever you want to my pussy,” you whisper against his skin, feeling him shudder under your lips as you slowly pull your hand up and down the thick length of him. “Whenever you want. I made that clear last night. All I’m asking is that right now, you lay back and let me suck your cock for a little bit. Is that okay?”

He doesn’t answer with words, but he throbs under your hand and his body is surprisingly malleable as you urge him to move back slightly, just enough for you to collect your legs out from under him and rise up on your knees to face him. You keep stroking him the entire time, sucking marks down his neck while you hold the hemline to the side. Nobody will ever be able to see them, but somehow that makes it even better. A secret only you and him know. Next time he scares off a crowd of locals, he’ll be wearing your signet under his armor.

When you’ve sufficiently bitten and kissed marks along his neck and the fabric won’t stretch anymore, you reach down and pull it up from the bottom, lifting it up up up—up until it rests right above his sternum and you can see almost the entire length of his torso underneath, tan and dusted in dark hair.

You strongarm him back to sit on the floor with one hand and hike your own shirt up over your breasts with the other, letting the fabric bunch under your armpits while his ammo belt bisects your chest diagonally. He curses when you immediately climb on top of him and start dragging your skin against his, rolling your exposed tits and pussy against the hard planes of his body and letting him feel how soft you really are.

“Is that okay?” You ask him once more, rubbing yourself into him. “Will you let me suck your cock, Mando?”

“Fuck—” he growls, grabbing your hips, “��why are you—h-how do you always make it feel so… so good—?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” you tell him, beginning to slide down his body.

“Not like this,” he pants, tipping his head back when you slowly lick down his chest. “Not—not everything, n-not all the time.”

The warmth that settles in the pit of your tummy is intensified by the clear drop of precum shining at the tip of his cock, now achingly swollen and a mouthwatering shade darker in color than the rest of him. “Keep talking,” you whisper. “It’s sexy.”

And then you slide his head into your mouth and let your tongue flutter gently along his frenulum.

Mando instantly goes rigid and grabs a fistful of your hair as you hum and taste his precum, slowly brushing your tongue over his tip to see if you can get any more out of him like this without going deeper.

“Fuck—” he grits while lifting his helmet to look, every muscle in his body tensing under you. “Y-your mouth is—” he gasps when you gently swirl circles around the pulsing head, his open palm coming down hard on the blanket with a dull thud, “—fuck, your mouth is s-so—so fucking good—”

You open your jaw and take him down a few inches so he can feel your throat, satisfied when his helmet falls back and his grip tightens in your hair. You slowly begin bobbing up and down, dragging the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft and getting him nice and wet. His thighs almost feel like he’s wearing beskar over them, his entire body held so incredibly tight and stiff as you softly pleasure him.

You can only get around half of him in your mouth without straining for it, so you soon lift off him and start coating your palm and fingers in spit. His head raises immediately, exposed chest heaving as he watches.

“You’re so tense,” you murmur, reaching down and starting to jerk him with your slick hand. He doesn’t relax into it, instead he straightens his back even more, his hips starting to thrust into your grip. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want to fuck you,” he growls, the exact opposite of relaxed. “You—you can’t w-walk around half-naked in—in my clothes and expect me t—”

He cuts himself off with a groan when you take him back down again, deeper this time. And then he relents and starts slowly fucking into your mouth, gradually rolling his hips further and further with every thrust. One hand fists itself into the blanket while the other holds your hair back as you open your throat and work the rest of his length with slippery fingers.

When you take him down as far as you can and you drop your palm down to cradle his balls, Mando just about loses his mind.

“Fuck—let me fuck you,” he starts rasping at the ceiling, “please, l-let me—let me pound you into this dirty f-fucking ground like you wanted, like—like the filthy little girl you are—”

You hold there and swallow around his thick cock, letting your other hand slither down between your own legs and start rubbing your clit. He probably can’t see you do it from this angle but it feels so much better this way regardless, having him as far down as your throat as possible and listening to him babble while you touch yourself.

The sound you make pulling off him to breathe isn’t necessarily the most attractive thing in the galaxy, but with the way he groans and tugs your hair sharply in response, you’d think it was the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. You keep jerking his throbbing cock and rubbing circles around your clit, before moving down to take one of his balls into your mouth.

His grip tightens, along with the gorgeously soft skin under your tongue. “W-Wait—stop—”

You look up at him. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat and everything about him is unbearably stiff, even with the way his body is sprawled out and his chest rocks up and down with exertion.

“Sorry, I just—I was—” he gasps, “—I d-didn’t want to—to c-cum—”

“I want you to cum,” you murmur, blinking up at him and dragging your tongue up the length of his swollen, throbbing cock. “Please. Want it down my throat.”

You don’t know how it’s possible for his body to go even more rigid, but it does. “You—?”

He possibly could’ve stopped himself, you think. Even with the way you start gently sucking on his tip and looking up at him innocently after telling him you want to swallow his load, maybe he could’ve stopped the way his balls suddenly pull up tight, the way his grip on your hair turns to steel and his helmet rolls to the side.

But then the subtle shift of his head means he can see your hand moving between your legs, you can tell. You can tell, because he makes a choking sound through the modulator and his stomach flexes, and then he’s cumming down your throat exactly like you wanted him to.

There’s a second between the moment of detonation and the explosive result of it. It’s just enough time for him to slowly tilt his chin up and let out the smallest, quietest moan you’ve ever heard from him before his cock starts throbbing on your tongue, his balls working to steadily pump cum up his shaft.

You pull up and start swirling circles around his head just as the first spurt hits your tongue, moaning at the taste of him and preening at his hoarse whisper of your name. You swallow everything he gives you, drain him until he’s completely empty and spent, trembling in pieces on the floor.

Admittedly you do keep him there in your mouth just a little bit longer than you should, just taking a minute to savor how good he tastes and how fucking beautiful his cock is, how stunning his body is exposed and spread out for you on the ground like this.

“Keep—keep doing that and I’ll get hard again,” he eventually warns, though his voice comes out sounding like sandpaper in his throat.

You hum and finally pull off him. “That’s got to be the least threatening thing you’ve ever said to someone, I think.”

“Not able t—” he jerks when you bite his hipbone, “—to scare you off, apparently. Most people run from me.”

“Nope. Told you I wouldn’t, remember? Back on Cantonica. I’m also the craziest bounty hunter in the guild, so. Look.” You lift up to show him. “I even have an ammo belt, see? It holds all of the bullets, for all of my guns that I have.”

His hand slowly comes up and you think he’s going to grab the band of leather across your chest to either take it off you or pull you forward with it, but then he just grabs one of your breasts and gently squeezes it instead. “You’re beautiful.”

Your breath catches. You blink twice at him, your heart suddenly thundering under his hand.

“Wearing my armor. Not wearing it. Not wearing anything. Wearing your clothes. In complete darkness. You’re beautiful.”

You think—for one ludicrous, insane second, you think that the enormous swelling in your chest literally transfers itself up to your brain and causes you to have an aneurysm right there on the floor in front of him.

But nope—it’s just the entire hull starting to violently shift and shake, swerving sideways and jerking upwards with rapid, unpredictable shifts in gravity.

You thrown on top of him in the chaos and try to find some sort of stable ground without accidentally kneeing him in the crotch. Mando grunts and gets rolled on top of you when the ship immediately veers the other way, the weight of him suddenly crushing your lungs and making it impossible to breathe with the brutal changes in g-force. Did he—did he leave the baby in the fucking cockpit?

He left the baby in the fucking cockpit.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #smut #reader insert #pedro pascal #no-droids

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

Empty Walls {Sirius Back x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2380 Summary: A lot of the order is pretty untrusting of any Slytherins joining their midst - but there is one person who accepts you. Warnings: Mentions of character death.

Molly Weasley shoved a plate of food in front of you, so harshly that little puddles of gravy spilt onto the table, making a small mess. You thanked her regardless of her hostility, and cleaned up the gravy with your own napkin, embroidered with your initials. She was a wonderfully sweet woman most of the time - but you just so happened to be a Malfoy. Despite your loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix, many of its members still didn’t trust you yet, because of your surname. It was more about that than the fact that you had been in Slytherin, while everyone else around here seemed either to be a Gryffindor or even a Hufflepuff. You tied your blonde hair out of your face and started to eat self-consciously, knowing that there were eyes on you no matter what. Sirius Black’s to be specific. He always seemed to be watching.

The room filled with the sound of eating as everyone dug into Molly’s delicious food. You were the first done, vacating your seat quickly and washed the dish - by hand - in the sink. You had grown up completely spoiled, with the house elves doing all of the cooking and cleaning, so earning your place here had been difficult at first. You didn’t mean to be spoiled. You just couldn’t help how you were raised.

Grimmauld Place. It was dark and it was dingy, but there was one place in this house in particular that you were drawn to. The wall with the family portraits - your own included. All of the little faces of your family, and then the burned out one of Mr. Sirius Black. Your eyes went to your brother and you smirked to yourself. He was painted in that little hat. He always hated that picture, which made you love it even more. You then saw your parents, Lucius and Narcissa. They both looked a little snooty, which was how they tended to appear to the world. But they were never like that when it was just the family together. Your fingers graced your mother’s face. You missed her, a lot. She still sent you owls, and your father would always add his own little notes. They loved you, despite the fact that most of their friends saw you as a traitor. That your actions nearly put a bounty on their own heads, like the rest of the order.

But you were going to help take him down before he could try to collect.

“Do you really like staring at your own face that much?” A deep voice came from behind you. You didn’t turn around. It was Mr. Black himself. He always seemed to be following you around. He was probably the most mistrustful of the lot. You just ignored him, and put your fingers over your father. You missed him as well. His opinion was the one that you had been most scared of - but you were doing what he was too cowardly to do. You were making the right choice.

You didn’t even pay attention to your little portrait. You knew what you looked like. You didn’t give into the vanity that the rest of the Malfoys seemed to have. You preferred knowledge over looks.

“It’s not that bad of a picture. Mine was awful. They made me cut my hair for it, so I looked like some dapper gentleman,” Sirius said. He had come and stood right behind you. You didn’t realize how close he was until then. If you took even one step backwards, you would have bumped into him.

“So it’s a good thing that your place is burnt out then?” You asked.

“I like to think of it more as an empty space,” Sirius said. “I’ll probably paint over the whole damn thing one of these days. Most of these people, I don’t feel like I’m that related to anyway. Like you.”

“We’re hardly related. It’s like ... many branches away,” You said with a shrug. He may be some sort of cousin but it never felt that way to you either. When you looked at him, you saw ... well, a handsome man, even with all of that hair and those tattoos. You had seen photos of him when he was younger and you had some pretty obscene thoughts one should not be having over family members. He’d been, to put it roughly, a hunk. “Why haven’t you painted over it by now?”

“The room needed some sort of decor,” Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do with an empty wall.”

“Well, knowing you, I’m sure you’d hang a very flattering portrait of yourself,” You mused, clicking your tongue. “Dorian Gray style.”

“What?” Sirius asked. You laughed then, remembering that someone like him probably hasn’t picked up a book since his time at Hogwarts, let alone one written by a muggle.

“Nothing,” You said, shaking your head. “So what can I help you with? Does Molly need help with something?”

“Why would Molly need help with anything?” Sirius asked, taking a seat in one of his favorite chairs in the bedroom.

“I don’t know - you all seem to think that housework is female only work-” You started but Sirius cut you off.

“Not at all,” He said, shaking his head, those unruly waves flying around him. “I actually wanted to talk to you myself. And it’s really not about housework.”

“Well, talk away,” You said, settling into a chair of your own, facing away from those painted walls.

“I’ve been keeping my eye on you for a while now. I knew your father back in school and-”

“Yes, I’ve heard some of the stories,” You interrupted, crossing your legs. “There’s no need to go into a lot of backstory. I know you don’t trust me and that’s what you want to talk about, isn’t it?”

“Do you always go around making up all of these assumptions?” Sirius asked, curiously. “I don’t distrust you, I actually wanted to tell you that I think you’re doing an amazing job. Especially for someone so young.”

Your mouth went dry at the unexpected praise that he was bestowing on you. “Well, thanks. That actually means a lot to me. It’s been hard, since I had to give up everything but saving the world seems pretty worth it. Wanna tell Molly what you think, because that woman has had it out for me since day one.”

“She’ll come around. She’s just mistrustful of Slytherins, that’s all.”

You were quiet for a couple of minutes there, thinking about all of the times that you had tried to proven yourself to the Order. You had gone out on dangerous missions without hesitation. You had fought people who had once been dear family friends. You were trying to protect the world, which seemed bigger than just one family.

“Guess I just have to give it time - and hope that we have enough of it,” You sighed, realizing there wasn’t much in this situation that you could do. “You’re not so bad yourself, Black. Even if you come from a family of, well, us. Snakes and all.”

“Thanks,” He chuckled. “I’ll take that to heart.”

Since you had already graduated from Hogwarts, you spent a lot of time among the rest of the adults. Molly was finally warming up to you just a little, if only because she had no children to keep her busy now that they were all back at school. You were one of the youngest in the Order, having just left school the year before, and so she doted on you. Or, at the very least, she didn’t make a mess of your food anymore.

“Fancy taking me for a walk?” Sirius asked you one day, leash in hand. You laughed, knowing exactly what he had meant. It was the only way that he could leave this house. Being disguised as Snuffles, the big black dog. And the only way not to get Animal Control called on him was to have someone walk him around.

You nodded, also feeling the need to get out of the stifling nature of the house. Get away from the screams of the portrait and the gloominess that clung around every corer despite you and Molly’s attempt to cheer the place up a bit. Sirius turned into his dog form, and you put the leash and collar on him - which always felt weird, no matter how many times you did it. His tongue lolled out as he grew excited for the fresh air and it was enough to make you laugh.

These walks became more and more frequent - especially because sometimes, when you were in a more isolated part of town, Sirius would turn back into his human self and you would have a coffee and sit in a park, enjoying the early fall nature. You ended up having some really long conversations. About everything. You told him some stories about his godson, Harry, and his friends at school - they were rather infamous and it seemed like you knew a lot about them despite not being in their house. And your brother’s complaints, of course.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were falling for this much older man, despite the age gap and the fact that he had been in Azkaban for years, and that this was hardly the time for love, given the fact that there was a war that was growing in importance more and more each day.

“To the ones that we have lost,” Arthur Weasley said, raising his glass in toast over his head.

It was not a happy occasion that you were celebrating here tonight, back at Grimmauld Place. “To the ones that we have lost,” you toasted back in return. And then you drank deeply from your flask - Firewhiskey having become a solace these days.

Sirius was taking things particularly hard - the war may be over, but the cost of that victory was entirely too high. He was tearing himself apart about it, but you couldn’t blame him. He lost his only other best friend. And the Weasleys had lost two sons - one to death, and one to the attack of a werewolf, though Bill was pulling through swimmingly.

You stood up slowly, which garnered the attention of the rest of the people around you. “I can’t be here,” You admitted, finding it too hard to be around loved ones, when they weren’t exactly the ones that you wanted.

You went down the hallway into the room with the family portrait on it, your wand in your hand as you closed the door, but you did not lock it. “What have you done to be remembered for?” You asked the portrait of yourself, and of your parents.

“I think this is a long time coming,” Sirius said, staggering into the room. “Patat Pingere.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, as the paint started to peel off of the walls, and then dissolve into nothing, leaving only the bare baseboards that they must have been before the family tree. You watched as you, your parents and the rest of them just seemed to disappear, like you never existed.

“You deserve to be remembered,” Sirius said, leaning against the doorframe, taking in the sight of all of that white. “So we’ll repaint you now, as you are. And... and Remus. And Tonks. And Fred... the others...”

You nodded, looking at the potential of it now. All of the noble house of Black had disappeared, and most of them were better off being remembered - entirely unlike everyone that you had just lost, and whose death was still pulling at your heart.

“And yours,” You said, looking over at Sirius. You were surprised to see that his head was down, and a sob racked through his entire body, and he was barely keeping himself upright.

You rushed to his side and took his weight upon your shoulder, half-dragging and half-carrying him to his favorite chair and helped to lower him into it. He didn’t let you go, so you had no choice but to sit with him. You curled up in his lap like a kitten, and he held you while sobbing into the shoulder of your robes.

You were through with crying - you’ve made yourself dehydrated with it and nothing ever seemed to get better, but seeing Sirius like this was still draining nonetheless. “You’re not completely alone Sirius - you have me.”

That seemed to help somewhat, for his shoulders stopped shaking as much, but he did continue to hold onto you tightly, making sure that you could not leave, even if you had wanted to. You didn’t want to, you wanted to stay and make sure that he knew - that he knew that you would not leave him.

“I love you.”

You weren’t expecting that from him, especially not at this time, but you began to run your fingers through the dirty, straggly hair.

“I love you too.”

“Don’t just say that if you don’t mean it. I can’t take anything more, I just-”

You’ve never seen him so vulnerable before. Even when he was in the middle of a fight, with spells going around him, narrowly missing him, he usually had some excitement showing on his face. But this was a defeated man, who seemed ready to break at the slightest negativity.

“I mean it, with every bit of me. I really, truly do,” You told him, detangling a few knots with your fingers, your wand having dropped on the floor when it seemed like he was falling. “I love you, Sirius Black.”

“Can we fix this - these empty walls?” Sirius’s head rose just a little.

You nodded, looking into his dark eyes, which had the same expression as a dog that had just been kicked. “Yes, I think we can. I know we can. Let’s start tomorrow.”

#Sirius Black #Sirius Black x reader #Sirius Black oneshot #Harry Potter #Harry Potter oneshot #request #oneshot #one shot #siriusb #x reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Business ~ Part Five

WORD COUNT: 4.3K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part five of nine of my new Bang Chan series.

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

The last couple of days had passed by without another incident happening, you'd kept yourself in your bedroom singing to the small radio that Chan had brought for you on the one condition that you keep the volume low, you just kept painting the back bedroom wall. It was almost completely covered in sunflowers with small parts of blue paint being able to peek through.

"You look proud of yourself," Chan said as he came into the room, you looked over your shoulder at him and nodded.

"It's pretty good, I think it's finished and then the rest of the walls are going to be white. I don't want to take too much away from your house." He chuckled at you and walked closer to the sunflowers,

"Where did you learn to paint like this?" You took the paintbrushes and paint tray to the sink in your en-suite and put them under the hot water.

"My grandmother, she was a painter." He looked at you as you spoke about her. He'd read a lot about her in the folder he had on you, your head was hung low as you washed up the paintbrushes in the sink.

"Have you eaten anything? Jisung said you didn't have breakfast." You looked at the time,

"No, it's okay. I was on a diet before I came here-"

"Nonsense, what do you want? Felix isn't here and I just sent Minho to lunch but I'm sure I can make something." You stared at him as you put the brushes out to dry on a towel on top of the countertop,

"What can you cook?" You asked, looking as he took off his blazer and laid it on your bed. You looked at his arms as he rolled up the sleeves of his long shirt as he rolled them up. He was never out of the suit and it bothered you for some reason.

"Why do you always wear a suit?" He cocked his head at you and raised an eyebrow,

"Why does it bother you what I wear?" You ignored him since you didn't know the answer to the questions either and followed him down the staircase towards the kitchen.

"I work in an office building, the suit it's my uniform. I can cook omelettes, french toast...yeah that's about it." You stared at the back of his head as he spoke to you about what he couldn't cook and you pushed him out of the way going to the back door, his heart began pumping thinking you were going to walk right out of the door. He was alone, no one but him would be able to stop you and you knew that but all you did was reach for an apron.

"I'll cook, what do you want?" He shrugged his shoulders at you, he normally just ate whatever the boys were making he really didn't have a choice in any of it.

"Right, sit." You sat him down at the table and began going through the cupboards and the fridge. There was literally nothing inside with the exception of some old tomatoes and a tub of mayonnaise. Felix must have brought his own things whenever he decided to cook for you all.

"You can drive right?"

"Obviously." You looked back into the empty fridge expecting some kind of magic trick to happen when you opened it but it was still empty.

"I'm going to write a list of things you need in this fridge and stuff we need for the night. Will you go and get them?"

"So you can leave while I'm out? I'm not that stupid." You flinched as he raised his voice with his hands clenched into fists by his side.

"No. I told you," Your hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb along his bruised knuckles. It was the first time you were noticing the dried blood and scabs that were sitting there, it made you wonder what he'd been doing all day if he was in an office building.

"I was going to stay, I meant it." You hated that you were acting so friendly with him. But it was going to be the only way you could get him to trust you on this, make it easier to slip away.

"You're still coming with me." He knew the more he was seen with you the better, he looked up at the time one of Namjoon's men would be around the edge of town so he could take you to that supermarket, in his care you'd get spotted instantly and Namjoon's men would report back right away.

"We'll go now. Make your list." You stared at him, you had no idea where anything was in this huge mansion so how were you to know where to find the paper and a pen.

"I think Jisung keeps a pen and pad in the top corner cupboard. He thinks if he hides it high enough I won't know what he's doing." You raised an eyebrow wondering what he meant but began climbing onto the kitchen side so you could reach, Chan sprung to his feet and stood behind you. The plan was working afterall, he was going soft on you.

"I'm fine. I won't fall, Chan." He kept his hands out just in case and you pulled down a pad and pen looking it when Chan explained what all the writing was.

"Music, he writes songs." You hummed and jumped down from the side, you stood between Chan and the side. Your face inches from his, your back pressing against the marble countertop. His hand moved to rest on your waist and you swallowed the lump that was in my throat.

"I should write this list." You whispered trying to move away from him, he nodded and moved away from you giving you the space you needed to get away from the counter. He sat back down on the chair beside the table watching you closely. You were being far too nice to him after what had happened a couple of days ago but he was being naive and assuming you were just coming to your senses about being there with him.

"You're going in that?" He asked looking at the jeans you were wearing, they were covered in paint and rolled up at the bottom with swatches of paint on the cuffs.

"Yeah, it's just a supermarket, not a fashion show." You didn't see a problem with what you were wearing, it was something you'd wear a lot if you were on the other side of town.

"But it's covered in paint." He sounded disgusted at the thought. You stared at him and ripped the paper off the pad and began folding it up.

"Can we just go, please? And make sure the boys will be home for dinner." He followed you over to the front door and he put his thumb down on the lock opening the door and taking you out with him.

"We'll take my black Porsche." You followed him over to a black car and got inside shivering a little at how chilly it was outside. It was pitch black despite it being 6 pm, but then again it was autumn.

"Seatbelt." You clicked into place and stared as Chan began to back down the drive without doing his seatbelt up,

"Seatbelt." You quipped back at him and he rolled his eyes ignoring your comment, so you reached across him and pulled it into place smiling in satisfaction when you pulled away and he stared at you.

"What? You have to be safe." He rolled his eyes at you playfully and began driving down the road. You stared out of the window trying to see how far away from society you really were.

"You live pretty far out." You said, trying to bring it up naturally. But you watched his grip tighten on the wheel at the thought of you trying to figure out where you were, his head was filling with thoughts about why you were mentioning it.

"I have to. Stops people from finding me and stops you from running away." He whispered turning onto the main road and continuing to drive in dull silence, it was torture not having some kind of background noise.

"Can we play music? You let me back home." Home. The way you said home instead of his house, prison, torture chamber or hell hole. Home. Like you were saying you liked it there, he liked that.

"Sure. Nothing bad though. I can't stand those romantic songs." He lied, of course, he was a sucker for those songs they were his favourite kind of song to listen to...Or they used to be. Being able to sing them with someone he loved, it was one of the reasons he stopped music in the house. He couldn't stand listening to it without her being there with him. You flicked through the stations and landed on classical and you assumed it would be your best bet for him right now something to keep the peace until you were able to work up to usual music.

The store was practically empty when you and Chan reached it, except for the workers who knew Chan. Instantly they began to hide in the storerooms, but not before snapping some photographs of you and him together for Namjoon. After all, this was his side of town and Chan wasn't one to show his face here. Which was exactly what Chan wanted everyone to see, that he was there and he wasn't alone.

"Chan?" A voice filled the empty aisle as Chan stood behind you. You were bent over, picking out carrots and turned your head to see a man around 5''8 standing there with a smirk on his face.

"Who's this?" A stupid question, he was already running a background check on you to see who you were and why you were with Chan. Chan's hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him tightening his grip a little, though it was weird you said nothing, because you knew who Namjoon was. You recognised him from the photos in the paper just like Chan's, not to mention the photos of him and your grandmother together in your folder. You kept your eyes downcast not knowing what to say or do in this situation.

"This is Y/n, Y/n this is Namjoon." Chan wasn't going to give your last name to Namjoon that would be far too easy for him. Namjoon took your hand in his and left a kiss on the top of your skin while holding eye contact with you, lingering for more than Chan liked.

"I didn't know you started seeing someone again. She's pretty." Chan looked at you and turned to kiss your cheek, you stayed still playing along since Namjoon was eyeing you up carefully.

"Go to the back of the store and pick out what meat you want. Don't leave." You nodded at him squeezing his hand as a silent message you weren't going to leave. You could tell that Chan seemed to be scared of Namjoon, or at least annoyed that he'd touched you. All you knew was they had business and fights over certain selling areas with their drugs, but that was all you knew.

"Nice to meet you." You whispered, putting the bag of carrots down into the trolley. Chan was pushing and walked towards the back of the store. Chan looked like the real husband type like this and Namjoon wasn't going to let him go off without mentioning it. You kept your head down as you walked, never once turning back to look at the two men, the smell of testosterone filled the air and you wanted to get out. Now would be the perfect chance to make a run for it, but there was a downside to that plan, your ankle was still bummed and you had no idea where you were in this side of town. Not to mention you didn't know who was and wasn't working for Chan, or where to go once you got out of there. Mrs Lu was your home but she was gone now, you were going to wait this out. Play the long game. Even if it meant pretending to like him a little while longer, make him think you loved him and make a break for it when he was vulnerable.

"What can I get for Mr Bang's young lady friend?" The butcher had a scar from the top of his face down to the bottom, he had blonde hair that was hidden under a chefs cap. He grew impatient the longer you stared at the scar along his face.

"It's rude to stare," You shyly looked down at the meat in the fridge he was standing above.

"S-Sorry, just a large chicken please." He nodded and began adding all of the spices while you looked over your shoulder at Chan and Namjoon, who looked like they were in a heated discussion about something.

"Everything okay?" You questioned as Chan came storming up behind you. His face and ears red with anger as he came to you holding onto your waist tightly.

"No. It's fine. Do you have everything you need?" You took his hand in yours and he seemed to lose tension instantly. You smiled softly at him to let him know it was okay for him to tell you if something was wrong.

"You can talk to me." You tried to tell him but he wasn't having any of it.

"No, it's fine."

"I need some other things," You glanced over at Namjoon who was watching you both closely, he wanted to know if what Chan had just told him was true. That you were his new girlfriend now, if it was he was going to have to do some serious digging into you. The longer you stared at Namjoon you remembered Chan telling him you were dating and you were going to have to start playing the part for Chan sooner or later anyway. You stood up on your tiptoes and left a small kiss on his cheek, you thought there would be an involuntary gag but there wasn't one. When your lips touched his skin it was as if there was a static shock running through your entire body, but you pulled away. He stared at you as you began walking away from him and he slowly walked after you, watching as you walked down an aisle and grabbed items you needed.

You'd brought the radio down from your room to play some music while you waited for the food to be prepped, you were attempting to teach Chan how to cook since he only knew basic things.

"You need to cut them into slices, but first peel them." Chan was dressed in a black apron over his usual suit top and tie, his sleeves rolled up to expose his arms. He stared at you while holding the knife, images flashed into your head but you cleared your throat, trying to push the thoughts of that night away. Chan put it down and looked at you once again to check if you were okay.

"How?" You sighed and showed him how to peel a carrot and then chop them up. It was simple enough and you wondered how his wife had dealt with him for all those years.

"Easy enough, just don't catch yourself." You turned away not wanting to see him with the knife again, this was harder than you'd expected it to be. You'd just got the images out of your mind but now you'd seen him with a knife again it brought everything flooding back to you.

"Boy I hear you in my dreams," You sang quietly, as you began cleaning the potatoes and chopping them up. It was one of your favourite songs as a teenager and now it was playing on the radio, you couldn't help but sing along to the words.

"I feel you whisper...across the sea. I keep you with me, in my heart." Chan watched you from behind as you sang along to the song coming from the radio, his eyes trained on your hips as you slowly swayed along to the duet that was playing. Continuing to sway as you moved the pan of chopped potatoes onto the stove and then took the carrots away from Chan and did the same.

"Lucky I'm in love with my best friend." You sang, looking down nervously at Chan as he stared at you. He hadn't said anything for the last two minutes and it was scaring you, but you didn't show him. He got up from the chair and wrapped one arm around your waist and placed his hand on yours dancing you around the floor in time to the beat.

"So I'm sailing through the sea, To an island where we'll meet, You'll hear the music fill the air," He put his hand on your cheek and moved the hair from your face, your pulse quickened as he touched you and your mouth ran dry.

"I'll put a flower in your hair," You stared into his eyes as you felt a tingle go through your body as he touched you and looked at you like that. His eyes were filled with something but you didn't know what it was. The front door chimed and you sprang apart from one another, standing back where you had originally been.

"Felix?" You called out and he popped into the kitchen,

"Can you come and finish the vegetables? I need to shower." All of the boys stared at you and Chan with the sense that something was going on, but you didn't care. You needed an excuse to get away from Chan before he could make your heart skip a beat again.

"You didn't make a run for it today then?" Minho smirked playfully at you. He'd asked you that every day since the day after you ran away from the house, and every time it was the same response from you.

"I'm staying." You said to him as you walked over to the kitchen door.

"I need to shower too. I'll walk you up." They stared at Chan as he walked over to you, both of you keeping your distance as you walked towards the staircase. Awkwardly trying to make it seem like nothing had happened in the kitchen before they walked inside.

"What do you think she's up to?" Minho questioned folding his arms over his chest,

"Keep an eye on her, she could be faking to get close to him," Changbin said, he'd seen enough movies to know what people did. They'd lure their kidnappers into ''love'' only to make a run for it when everything seemed clear enough or they'd made the kidnapper weak enough it was an easy enough plan.

"You know, she could genuinely be falling for him….happened in that Disney movie." Each of them turned to stare at Hyunjin who bit into an apple from the table.

"A Disney movie and it's called Stockholm syndrome, look it up." Jeongin said as he looked at the apple.

"Someone also died from eating an apple...Are you going to take all your advice from kids movies?" Jeongin quipped, taking the apple from him and biting into the fresh side.

"He killed someone she loved less than three days ago. That's not something someone gets over this quick. I'm telling you we watch her closely." Changbin mumbled, not liking the thought of his boss getting hurt again. The boys might be joking about it all but this was serious, Chan couldn't risk getting hurt again. The first time had been rough on them, all but the worst for Changbin, he was Chan's right-hand man. He had to be right there when everything happened and he didn't want to see his close friend at rock bottom once again.

Sitting at the table was weird, it was silent and uncomfortable all of them were watching you closely as you sat beside Chan, wondering what your next move was after their talk with Changbin earlier.

"I didn't poison it." You joked at them, referring back to what they'd said to you when you were in the basement. Felix chuckled as he heard you say it and then started to eat the food, while the others stared at him waiting for him to die but he started moaning about how good it tasted.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?!" Everyone dug in and you smiled doing the same, sticking to the vegetables to start with. A habit you'd had since you were a kid,

"My grandfather. He taught me how to cook when I moved in with him. He used to own a small restaurant." Chan looked at you, it had been included in the report they did on you but he took out why he didn't own it anymore. He thought it would best that part stayed between him, you and the Private investigator he'd hired to work alongside Changbin.

"Used to own?" Jisung questioned, you swallowed the carrot in your mouth and took some water from your glass suddenly getting a dry mouth thinking about your grandfather.

"He had to give it up when my grandmother got sick. Then he erm, then he got sick and-" You couldn't finish the sentence, it was too hard to talk about without crying. Chan's hand overlapped yours on the table, he knew where your grandfather was, that he'd left in the report, but you didn't flinch at the sudden contact from him. It felt oddly nice to have it there. Changbin watched you closely as you didn't react to Chan's touch.

"Is he-" Jisung asked, leading off not wanting to say what they were all wondering if he was dead or not.

"He's in a nursing home. He doesn't remember much these days. I'm just a girl that works...Worked there." Your mind flooded with thoughts of him, sitting alone and playing dominos on his own. You wanted to go to him, you needed to see him again.

"You used to volunteer there and the hospital, right? I remember from your file." Jeongin mentioned and everyone glared in his direction for bringing up the file during this hard topic for you but you didn't mind, you knew they'd all seen it.

"Yeah. I volunteered at the hospital and continued doing so even after my grandmother died and then the nursing home when my grandfather was admitted." Chan was still staring at you as you let silent tears roll down your face, he took a napkin from the table and wiped them away for you not wanting to see you cry like this. The boys could already see that he was falling fast and hard for you, but they still couldn't determine how you felt about him. It was hard to read you.

"I can take you to see him, you can go and see him whenever you want." You nodded along to him and looked at the plate in front of you, not daring to meet his eyes.

"You should all eat. I'm tired and I'm not that hungry." You whispered, getting up from the table. But Chan's hand was lingering on top of yours and he slotted his fingers into yours.

"I promise I'll take you." You hummed, not wanting to believe that he would be willing to do that, if he was willing to take you then that would mean he wasn't as bad as you thought he was. Your head would spin with thoughts about if everything you'd heard about him was true. You left the table followed by Changbin who was taking the first shift for the night, volunteering for it in fact. He followed close behind you until you were right outside your bedroom door, he took your wrist in his hand and pinned it above your head while holding his other hand over your mouth to stop you from making a sound.

"What are you playing at? Huh? What's the angle?" You mumbled against his hand and he roughly pushed you against the wall again,

"If I find out you're planning anything, and I mean anything. Your grandfather and everyone else will be gone. Just like Mrs Lu, remember her? Remember the way Chan slit her neck with ease?!" He forced you to look at the office door and your eyes welled up with tears, he was doing this on purpose trying to make you remember everything Chan had done. All this time you thought Chan had been the evil one but you could see now that it was Changbin.

"I'll make sure that happens to everyone you love if you hurt him. Understood?" You nodded and he pushed open your door waiting for you to go inside,

"Sleep well." He mumbled, shutting the door and taking his place right outside the door for the night, sitting on the chair and waiting for time to pass by. Your legs hit the back of your bed and you landed down on Chan's suit jacket from earlier. You slid it out from underneath you and held it against your chest, maybe he wasn't so bad after all? Maybe he was just doing all of what he did because it was what was expected of him? The boys? Namjoon? Maybe they were the reason he did everything he did. You pushed the jacket away from you hurriedly, what were you thinking?! He killed someone who helped raise you, put a roof over your head and here you were thinking he wasn't so bad? You'd heard the stories, vicious killings, drug runs, weapon cartel, money laundering not all of that could be rumours. He was bad. He had to be bad. He was bad for you, you had to get him to think you'd fallen for him and fast, the sooner you did that the sooner you could be out of there and the sooner you could stop looking at him as a person with hurt feelings rather than the cold-blooded killer he was...Is.

Tagline: @moonprincessdiviniation - The wonderful editor who stayed up late to do this for me even though I told her not to!!! @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @calling-dips-on-j-hope @hugs4chan @ncitythoughts @inseonqt @cloudsgathering @atletino @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @freckledquokka

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prodtrouver · 3 years

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𝐏 𝐇 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐒

᯽ Fairytales are always said to be all happy and lovely. With fairies, dragons, queens, kings, princesses, princes, and many more to bring their magical world to life, however, it's never really like that.

Although these original ones were overshadowed by the retold ones, there are still many who reads the original ones. They're even making videos, theories, and much more about them.

It was hoping to be read and finish the unfinished fairytales written in the book full of retold tales.

Pairing: Choi Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: fairytales, fluff, angst, fairies, fantasy au

TW: mentions of death, blood, torture, sharp objects, mausoleums,

Word count: 10,567

Based on the fairytale by George MacDonald, PHANTASTES

Fairytales are always said to be all happy and lovely. With fairies, dragons, queens, kings, princesses, princes, and many more to bring their magical world to life, however, it's never really like that.

Those happy and lovely fairytales everyone kept on hearing were all retold tales. The original ones always have that sad, furious, or scary part. No one just wanted to believe them because they all want a happily ever after.

Although these original ones were overshadowed by the retold ones, there are still many who reads the original ones. They're even making videos, theories, and much more about them.

One mysterious book, one secret, full of retold fairytales. Plot twists were made yet, the book remained unfinished. It was currently in the hands of the author's great-granddaughter.

Although, it was tucked away deep in his chest of his valuables. Dust covers the exterior of the book, just resting at the very bottom, ready to be found, cleaned, and read.

It was hoping to be read and finish the unfinished fairytales written in the book full of retold tales.

You walk down the flight of stairs, a basket full of fruits in your right hand whilst your other hand has a tray resting on your palm. You put the tray on the table before you put down the basket as well.

Afterward, you grab the towel that was hanging on the chair before you wipe the sweat forming on your forehead. You gently place the fruits on the sink and hear the loud and cheerful voices of your dear brothers.

"I'm coming to get you! Better run away, Luca!" Your brother says, picking up the boy who is smaller than both of you, perks of being an 8-year-old.

Your youngest brother laughs, swinging his arms in the air as he shouts to put him down.

"Okay, little bud! Help mom with dirty clothes. We'll wait for you before we cook." He pats his head. Their younger brother nods as he runs out of the house to call their mother. Meanwhile, he walks to your side as he helps you wash the fruits.

"I overheard mom's conversation with grandma this morning. They want you to finish something that belonged to our great grandfather." He says as he takes the washed fruits and the cutting board on the side. You look at your brother, Felix Lee, as he takes the knife out from its sheath. He places the washed apple on the wooden cutting board before he cuts the apple into half, then into quarters.

"They said it's in the chest in the attic. You know great grandfather's chest of valuables, right?" Felix asks, grabbing another apple to slice it into quarters.

"Yes, I know the chest, but what do they want me to finish?"

"I'm not sure which one, but they said it's a book. It's different from the others because it's the only one with a title... At least, that's what they said." Felix specified, you finished washing the fruits and put them on the side for Felix to slice.

"I'll go check it out. You can tell mom and Luca to cook without me. Don't mess the kitchen now and don't cut yourself either like last time." You say sternly, ruffling the hair of her brother.

Felix could only roll his eyes as he watches his sister go upstairs to the attic. You open the door of the cold attic, your chocolate brown eyes immediately land on the baggage stacked on the side.

Dust was mostly everywhere, ready to give someone a cough. You made your way to where the chests are, old and new ones. You shoved the ones that were covering the old chests.

Specks of dust suddenly get everywhere. "I need to wash after this." You let out a heavy sigh and open the chest that has the label of your great grandfather.

It was half-empty, almost every object in the chest was visible. Books were stacked on one side, alongside with notebooks and sketchpads beside it. Paint, paintbrushes, and other things for art on the other side. In the middle were the things he used for writing.

It made you think of all the things your father has told you and your brothers. How much your creative great grandfather loved art and wrote whatever he wanted. It was an opportunity for him to explore what he wasn't able to explore.

You look for the said book, the only book with a title. After you lift the pile of books, notebooks, and sketchpads, in hopes to find the titled book, and you finally did. The book had a red hardbound cover; the title was on the bottom of the cover.

You wipe away the dust from the book and blow away the remaining dust. You then close the chest, returning the objects you moved to get to the things of your great grandfather. Soon enough, you left the attic with the book in your grasps.

You enter your room and close the door. You changed your dirty clothes into cleaner ones, ones that you actually feel clean to wear.

You sat down on your wooden chair and took out a wet cloth to wipe the dirty red hardbound cover.

You could read the title now, Book of Retold Fairytales, it said. You flip through the pages, unbothered to read the book just yet.

You stopped your actions, however; you noticed a plentiful of empty pages between each story. It was as if it wasn't finished then you realized: that's what they want you to do.

The completion task is yours, but you felt scammed. You aren't good at writing stories or essays at all. Your great grandfather could write these stories, how could you, a person who doesn't write, end it?

Well, there is an answer to that. An answer that your great grandfather has always waited for. An answer that always helped him with his imagination and concentration, and that is to do it.

Go to the destination, do the actions, complete the story, that's all. The question is, how can one do it? Another simple answer! Get dragged into it.

You let out a heavy sigh and flip back through the cover page. How would you get dragged into the story? You don't even believe in those things! You read the very first fairytale you saw, and it's titled 'Phantastes'.

You tilt your head to the side, just remembering that the tales written here are retold in the words of your grandfather.

After reading the first page of the tale and was about to flip the next until your arm was being wrapped with mysterious yet sparkly yellow dust.

You dust it off and found out that it was hard to get it off. Soon, it engulfed your entire body, and you ended up in a completely different world.

You were confused, scared as well to where you are. You were stuck in a weird place, almost as it was a room full of unknown technology. You faced in front of you, a circular platform made from Silver, Concrete, and Marble.

Outline the circle. There were chairs made of concrete and marble. The gray concrete was painted white to make it more appealing to the eye.

You were hesitant, but you slowly made your way to the raised platform. Instantly, you flinched when a small concrete pillar came out from the ground.

There you see a card, a holographic card with a silver lining. You inspected, 'Phantastes' was written on both of its side. You slowly take the card from its pillar, only to find yourself in a bedroom, except it's not your bedroom.

You jumped when a paper appeared in front of you. You caught the falling paper and mumbled for an explanation instead. You sigh, ready to throw the blank piece of paper away until it started glowing.

You stared at it; something was being written, word by word, and you weren't the one writing.

You sat on the bed of the enormous bedroom. The bedroom looked nothing like yours back home. Instead, it seems like those bedrooms in Victorian mansions of wealthy people.

The paper in your hand then withers away into nothing but dust.

"I wasn't even able to read that," you stand up from the bed. You examined the bedroom until you sat in front of a mirror.

Even your clothes are different, and just like the bedroom, it looks nothing like yours.

You had a white blouse with long sleeves with added cuffed sleeves at the end to look clean. The skirt was a blue plaided skirt that stopped when it touched the ground. You slightly lift the dress and saw a glimpse of your black doll shoes. Your hair was styled beautifully, so beautiful you don't want to let your hair down.

Suddenly, you hear a tinkling sound from the desk beside the bed. You turn around to see a small creature standing there.

You slowly and carefully walk towards the little creature, and with every step you took, the tiny creature takes the form of a human, but there's something else. It had wings.

The insignificant creature flew and stared at you, but soon, it broke the eye contact, for it turned its head to the side. Your eyes followed the fairy but stood frozen when the bedroom changed.

Tall trees, bushes, flowers, and grass appear. Suddenly, you got the urge and courage to go to the wondrous sight in front of you.

"This is Fairyland, a land full of magic and spirits." The fairy spoke, and this surprised you.

You were already in front of Fairyland that the fairy had shown. Could it be the way for you to go back to your home?

"What do I have to do to come back home?" You spoke to the fairy who looked scared, maybe worse; terrified and traumatized.

"The boy who lived in this mansion has gone there and lost his path. I never saw him again, but he is alive. Find him, and you will return to your home," the fairy said.

You turned your head to look at the forest. Now, you knew why it showed Fairyland to you. When you faced the woods again, it looked darker and gloomier.

You have no choice though, if that's the only way for you to return. You entered the forest, possibly never to be seen again. You turn around, and the bedroom is gone. It wasn't there anymore.

You're now in the forest, nowhere else to go but forward and look for the boy.

The forest was beautiful rather than gloomy like earlier. Countless fresh flowers, mushrooms growing on trees, birds chirping, and living in their homes peacefully. You were enjoying the sight of young fairies flying and playing around.

A smile made it to your lips, but it soon disappeared when you saw a cottage and heard the loud and cheerful voice of a young girl. You took a couple of steps closer to the cabin, and the sight of a young girl playing with flowers and fairies greets your presence.

The young girl laughed until she saw you, and a broad smile was immediately plastered on her face.

"Mommy! We have another special guest!" The girl ran to you, she hugged your legs as a sign of welcome. A woman then comes out of the cottage, a surprised and welcome smile on her lips. She walked towards you and her daughter.

"Hello, welcome to our home. Would you like to come inside and have some tea?" The woman insisted on which you felt bad to reject it.

"Of course, that would be nice, thank you," you follow the woman and her daughter into their cottage. The girl lets you sit down on the chair while she washes her hands.

"I never thought that we would get another guest after that boy yesterday. I am confused why you both suddenly appeared." The woman places the finished tea on that table in front of her. The woman then sits down, the welcoming smile still on her pink lips.

You flinched your head to look at the woman.

"Wait, a boy? If I may ask, why was he here yesterday?" You ask, and the woman's smile became softer.

"I believe he got lost. I told him where to go and what to look out for, but I believe he got attacked after leaving our home." The woman looked worried; her last sentence made you wonder.

"What attacked him?" You questioned, the woman let out a saddened sigh.

"Spirits, evil spirits that live in the forest." The woman answered, a puzzled expression on your face. The lady seemed to notice it.

"Everything here has spirits from the trees to the plants to the rocks to the grass, Everything. There are more good spirits than bad, though." The lady explains,

"However, there are the most dangerous ones. They are the spirit of the Ash trees and the spirit of the Alder trees. These two spirits will attack anyone who comes near its property," The lady adds.

She gets up from her seat and takes out a sketch pad from her wooden shelf. She gives the sketch pad to you, where you could see the appearances of each spirit.

"These are what the spirits look like and what they are guarding. This girl is the spirit of the Ash tree, and this is the spirit of the Alder tree." She points at the two spirits, which they looked like two teenage girls.

"I want you to look out for them when you explore the forest; they are very dangerous, especially towards humans like us. The other spirits are just guarding my daughter and me." The lady added.

You close the sketch pad once you gain the memory of the appearance of the two spirits. You let out a heavy sigh, unsure if you can find the boy without getting into trouble.

You placed the sketch pad on the table in front of you as thoughts arise in your already clouded mind. What if you get hurt and die? Will you be stuck in this world?

"Thank you for warning me and letting me know what the spirits look like." You smiled at the lady; the lady's welcoming smile was back on her lips.

"No problem, dear! I'm glad that I could help." The lady responded as she watched you finish your tea.

You stood up from your seat and sent your heavy thanks to the lady once more before leaving. You stopped, however, when the lady shouted you something.

"Don't die because you'll die for real. You won't be able to return to your home." The lady says.

You turn your head to look at the lady, but she was already gone, out with her daughter. You left their property with fear and countless thoughts, and assumptions of what the outcome of your death that you hoped would never come.

Exploring the forest has never been scarier than your first. Now, you know what you need to ignore, avoid, and to fear, it scared you.

Your head was so full of thoughts to the point you didn't notice you have stepped into the land you aren't meant to be on.

You were out of your trance when you heard words murmured around you.

Instantly, you inspect your surroundings, and feel your body tremble in fear once you realized where you are, in the forest of Ash and Alder Trees. The two spirits known to be always together as if they are sisters.

You're afraid to take another step, but also afraid to stay in one place. You tried to take action slowly, only to hear another word being murmured to you.

You shut your eyes as you gather all the courage in you to take another step, a step you never knew would give you a nightmarish encounter.

You come face to face with one of the two spirits you were told to stay out of trouble, the spirit of the Ash trees.

She looked young, a young teenager, but her eyes were scary green with a hue of blue. Her hair was long, long enough to touch her kneecaps. She reaches her hand out to you before a mischievous appears on the spirit's pale lips.

In a flash of a second, you were grabbed by branches. Most of it started from your feet. You let out a fearful gasp when you felt the tingling feeling of the vines.

You felt disgusted and weak; you felt like your death was nearing. However, most of it disappeared when you saw a shard of glass on the leafy ground.

You swing the shard to cut the vines, which end up with the spirit yelling for the help of the spirit of the Alder tree. You quickly escape with the shard of glass, leaving a few cuts on your palm. But you couldn't care less; you just want to get away.

Eventually, you escaped and left the forest of the Ash and Alder spirit.

You angered them, made them furious, and now you're is sure they are ought to find and punish you.

With anxiety and courage on your side, you continued your search for the missing boy.

You kept the shard of glass in the pocket of your skirt. Speaking of your dress, it was now covered in dirt.

Your white blouse was dirty as well; a tear has appeared on your left sleeve! However, you ignored it; you continued walking and ignored the blood that was dripping from your hand.

You halted when you heard singing. The boy's voice was soft, almost gentle, and silky as if it made for a long silk ribbon.

You followed the voice, curious about who was singing and what it was singing for. Your curiosity grew when you saw a boy in front of a statue. The statue was a lady, and although it was a statue, it looked beautiful. You came to understand why he was singing to the marbled figure.

The boy has chocolate-brown hair, a delicate jawline, pink lips, and eyes that seem to smile with his lips. He was handsome, his voice sounded lively, and his dirty clothes looked wealthy if cleaned.

Your eyes widen when you saw the statue lady flee from him. The boy looked surprised, overwhelmed with the scenery of the statue that fled from him.

You took a step forward, let the boy hear the rustling of leaves around you. He turns around and feels his heart stop at the sight of you.

You stare at each other with shocked expressions, but the surprised faces turned into threatened and feared.

Both of you aren't aware of what the other is capable of. You could mistake him for a human when he could be a spirit, and the boy felt no different.

"Who are you?" You both questioned in sync, both are silent until spoken again. "I said, who are you?" Asked in sync once more, you groan.

"I ask you one more time, who are you? Are you a spirit or a human?" You said, your stern voice masked your fear.

"I'm a human, are you as well?" The boy asks, and you bob your head as an answer to his question. The boy lets out a sigh of relief as his fear of death disappears.

You stare at each other for one more time before they look away. The boy walks forward, your nose scrunches at the way the boy walks.

"Are you injured?" You question, to which the boy gives you an expression you cannot describe.

"I don't think so... also, I should ask you that. Your palm has a cut, and you're too careless to pay attention to it." He makes his way towards you.

He grabs your hand and examines the cut; a concerned expression replaces his indescribable one. He put your palm closer to his face.

The cut wasn't at all deep, but it wasn't small either. Dried blood surrounded the fresh-cut. You were lucky it's not infected yet.

"We need to find water and clean that cut of yours. It might get infected," he rips a part of his cloak. His action brought surprised expression on your face.

The sound of cloth ripped from his cloak confused you; why did he have to do that? He takes your hand once more and wraps the piece of cloth around your cut.

"That will do it! We need to find shelter before the spirit of the Ash and the Alder tree finds us again. I'm guessing you angered them as well?" He gives you a questioning look.

"I angered them as well... All we could do is hope that we don't get killed." He lets out a soft chuckle before he walked in front of you.

"Come on, better walk before we get killed." You walk through the forest again, both always on the look-out for anything harmful.

"I never got your name, may I know it?" The boy asks you, his eyes glued to the path in front of him.

"My name is y/n, how about you?" You were the one asking this time. The boy looks and smiles at you, the way his pupils disappear, and the dimple on his cheeks shows itself.

"Soobin, Choi Soobin... Hm, did you get dragged in this forest as well?" he asks again before you continue your walking journey.

"Yes, they dragged me here to look for the boy that never came back for days. I guess boy is you," you raise a brow whilst Soobin sighs.

"Yup, that's me... but I've been gone for days?" It confused him; it felt like only a couple of hours had passed.

"Yes, days! The fairy who brought me here said and-," you were silenced when you heard a rustle. Soobin was about to ask, but you immediately silenced him.

You look around attentively, a sight of any moving object wary of you. You moved closer to Soobin, in fear of suddenly getting attacked.

Suddenly, you see a woman walking towards you both. Soobin looks at the woman with a suspecting face. The woman smiles, which gave discomfort to the two.

"Hello, I'm a maid from a palace near here, but I lost my way trying to return. Can you help me find my way back?" The woman says with an upset expression.

Soobin looks at you, who has an uncomfortable expression. You weren't buying this; the maid was suspicious. She came out from nowhere and this warred you.

You walk to Soobin's side and hold his hand. "Sorry, but I'm afraid we can't help you." The maid's upset expression turned into a disappointment one.

"Y/n, come on, ease up a bit. She works in a palace. It can't be that far! Anyway, I should be certain that the palace is enormous for us to see." Soobin says whilst he pats your back.

He looks at the maid and offers her both of your help. The maid solemnly smiles at him. But there was something wrong with it- it's the way she weirdly glared at you afterward.

Soobin helped the maid find her way back. Their walk was long, just like their other walks whilst exploring the forest.

You swore you have seen no other sign of humanity again, if only you don't include the 'maid'. The way the maid kept looking at you made you feel annoyed.

You were walking behind Soobin and the so-called maid. Soobin was busy talking to the maid whilst you were on her guard, and constantly.

Suddenly, you heard something break behind you. You spin around, only to see nothing but a branch fall from a tree.

You turn around again, and jump in shock when the spirit of the Ash Tree stood in front of you. Her pale face staring intently at your not-so-pale skin.

"Hello, we meet again! I'm afraid you caused me too much pain, that will cause death." The spirit says and suddenly, vines grab your legs.

You tried to grab the shard of glass in your pocket, except your arms were wrapped with the vines already.

"Soobin! RUN!" You screamed, and vines made its way to your neck. You heard the spirit laugh at your suffering.

Suddenly, the vines were cut once again, which resulted in the spirit's deafening screams. She dropped you to the ground and arms were wrapped around your shoulder.

You cough for air before you face the person who has their arms wrapped around your shoulder. It was Soobin. His lingering eyes stared at the spirit in front of you.

"Well, look who we have here," the spirit of the Alder tree shows herself. She was still dressed in her maid clothes, which she used to trick them both.

"I'm sorry, I should have listened to you," you heard Soobin mutter when he saw the bruises around your neck.

"No, it's fine. You're quite stubborn, but you only wanted to help," Soobin helps you stand up. The two spirits laugh and try to attack you both at the same time.

Soobin's eyes widen and leap in front of you to shield your weak figure. However, neither of you felt pain and only heard the screams of agony of the two spirits.

You both turn your heads, only to see a man dressed in iron armor.

"Knight Choi Yeonjun, I never knew you would protect such weak human beings." The spirit of the Ash Tree snickered at him. The knight only pointed his iron sword at the two spirits.

"We shall not support Death in the lands of Fairies and other spirits. This shall be the last time if you are not on your property. If blood gets on one property's land other than your own, you are bound to be banished from Fairy Land." He stated and the two spirits groaned.

The two spirits glare at Yeonjun before they fled back to their forests. Yeonjun looks at the two who looked lost and are extremely lost.

"Go on, they will not bother you anymore," Yeonjun says and flashes them a smile. He gets on his horse.

"Thank you for helping us, good Knight, sir," you say, the knight says no more and walks away from them to do his duties.

"We better get going. It looks like the night is coming to pain us." Soobin jokes and you let out a laugh.

The two continued your journey once again, but found another cottage. It looked different from the cottage of the lady and her daughter.

The door of the cottage opens, and a man exits the cottage. He looked surprised to see you and Soobin. He grabs a sword on the side and points it at your direction.

"Sir, we mean no harm. Please, put your sword down." Soobin stood in front of you to shield you once again. The man didn't do what he was told, but another lady came out and made him put his sword down.

"Oh, my, guests! Honey, that's no way to treat them. They look like troubled and exhausted, treat them nicely." The lady says and runs towards you and Soobin.

"Hello, I'm Jihyo and that is my husband over there, his name is Daniel. Please, come inside! The night is arriving!" The lady insisted and dragged them both inside.

Soobin holds her hand before they enter their home, which was brighter and more spacious than the last home they visited. Suddenly, a young girl comes down the stairs. "Guests!!" She jumped off the stairs and hugged their arms.

"Welcome to our home! What are your names!?" The little girl asks, a wide smile on her face.

"My name is y/n,"

"Hello, I'm Choi Soobin," The little girl jumps in joy.

"My name is Jigeon!" The little girl says and sits down beside her father. Jihyo comes with a tray of cups of tea and she puts it down on the table. "Here is some tea, you may rest here for the night." Jihyo insisted,

"Ah, really? Thank you so much," you both smile at Jihyo before she sits down beside her husband.

"Big sister, do you believe in the magic of Fairyland and fairy tales?" The little girl asks, and she shows you her drawing of a fairy.

"Yes, I believe in magic but I don't know about fairy tales, love."

"If it's okay, can I ask why?" Jihyo asks, her eyes stuck on you and Soobin.

"I'm not saying I don't believe in them. It's just that so many people have retold them in different ways, no one knows the proper story." Suddenly, you remember the fairy in the bedroom from before.

"But I guess, I believe in some of them. Not everything about life will end in a happily ever after." She added and Daniel sighed in disbelief.

"Who believes in those things anyway?" He asks, causing Jihyo to chuckle.

Everyone continued to talk about fairy tales, facts about themselves, and what you and Soobin will do on the next day.

Soon, the evening arrived, and the family went to bed. You were staying in the extra bedroom they offered you both to sleep in. Soobin insisted on staying in the living room, for he doesn't want to trouble them.

They provided extra sets of clothes to wear for your next journey. It was a good and quiet evening, although the two couldn't sleep.

You exit your bedroom quietly and head to the living room. You halted your tracks when you saw Soobin still awake. He seemed to read a book; Soobin noticed your presence and smiled.

"Why are you still awake?" Soobin asks, "I should ask you the same." You let out a chuckle and sit beside him on the wooden couch.

"I'm just thinking of home. It was my choice to enter this forest but never thought of what could happen." Soobin lets out a heavy sigh.

"I can't relate at all. I got dragged here because I was told to look for you." you pout, Soobin laughs, and pats your head.

"I'm sorry about that," he apologized.

"Don't apologize, I was dragged here in this book." you exclaimed, but soon realized what you said. Immediately, you cover your mouth and turn her head to look at Soobin.

"What- what do you mean?" Soobin was confused, but you just looked away.

"Well, what's the point? We probably won't see each other again after you go back home." You look into his eyes, which were showing sadness. The prominent frown on his lips.

Your eyes, however, were hopeful, and your head was still full of unanswered questions. You take Soobin's hand in yours.

"I don't belong in this place, or this world at all. It's hard to believe, but I'm from a whole other world. We are in a fairy tale that my great-grandfather retold." Soobin looks puzzled. But soon it disappeared.

It was replaced with a rather disappointed one. He looks at you and smiles. The disappointed smile made your heart flip.

"I understand, why were you dragged in this fairy tale, anyway?" He asks, his tone of voice was soft, unlike his usual tone.

"We have this family tradition of finishing what our ancestors started or else, they won't rest in peace. I was told to finish this book before my great-grandfather started and here I am," you answered.

Soobin just nodded and looked away. It disappointed- you're leaving after he finds his way back home. Though you talked little, he enjoyed your company.

Silence then came and took over. The two are quiet, both are scared to speak after your explanation. You sighed, which caught the attention of Soobin.

"Let's forget I said that and try to enjoy this dangerous journey until we get back. You should rest, we still have many things to do." You smile before you patted Soobin's head.

You were about to head back to your room until Soobin stopped you. You face the boy who has a smile on his face. "Good night, I hope you sleep well."

You smiled and nodded, "I hope you sleep well too." You went back to your room, the softest smile on your lips.

You lay on the bed, the comfort finally arrives, and you felt better. You close your eyes and let the sleepiness get to you. At last, ever since you came into the forest, you finally felt at ease.

The next day, you and Soobin thank the family once more before you get ready to leave. You both turn around and walk away from the family's cottage.

"What are we going to do now?" Soobin asks while he moves some branches for you to pass without getting hurt. "Find a way back home, stay out of trouble," you stated.

Soobin just agreed with you as he watched you walk in front of him. He was about to push away another branch until something grabbed his wrist. He turns around to check, but he sees no one.

He turns his head to the tree, and his eyes widen. His shadow was holding his wrist. He quickly takes his wrist back and follows you. Throughout your entire journey, Soobin's shadow kept on annoying him.

It made Soobin trip over nothing, hit himself twice, and kept on bothering him. It concerned you; you did not know what was going on until afternoon came.

"Soobin-," you turn around, but Soobin wasn't there at all.

"Soobin? Soobin!" You shout his name. But no one responded. You turn around again. But he still wasn't there.

He wouldn't leave you there, right? Something bad must've happened.

You took a step forward, only to trip on nothing, and hit your head. You wince, your palm caresses the pained part.

You sit up, scared to suddenly feel blood on your head. However, you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw an enormous palace. You get on your feet and make your way towards the two gold doors.

You caressed the gold details, fascinated by the beautiful designs. Suddenly, the doors open. You come face to face with the long hall of the palace. You took a step inside and the two doors shut itself. You walk your way through the palace, still fascinated by the interior of the humongous building.

Everything was gorgeous: the gold and white furniture, the marble tops, the large arched windows. You even discovered a room with stained glass windows, and a room with a grand staircase. There were many rooms which might take days exploring.

You find another room with two large doors. Except the doors were silver. You pushed the door open. Your mouth goes agape at the sight of millions of books. A soft smile makes it on your pink lips as you enter the library.

"This is magnificent," you mutter in amusement. You were about to take another step, however. Music plays in the halls. The music sounded like a waltz. You exit the library in curiosity and go towards the direction of the music.

The music changed its tone. It sounded more like a ballroom's music. You stop in front of a door, a silver one and gold one. You press your palms against the door and pushes it open.

Your eyes went wide at the sight of the dancing statues. They all turned at you and immediately returned to to their pedestals. You enter the hall and jumped when you heard the door shut behind you.

You look at the hall in front of you: The statues were porcelain or marble, but they all looked marvelous. You walked through the hall, but you halted your movements once you saw a familiar figure staring at one empty pedestal.

"Soobin!" You shout his name, the boy turns his head to look at your running figure. He smiles in relief and rushes towards you. Immediately, he embraced you.

"I thought I lost you!" You both said in sync.

"You vanished from my sight!" You both said again. Soobin breaks the hug and notices that you were staring at the pedestal behind him.

It belonged to the Marble lady he was singing to. You then remembered the music you heard that played throughout the entire palace. It was the lullaby Soobin was singing to the marble lady for the first time.

"Soobin, sing the lullaby you first sang to her." You said, your eyes full of curiosity, and Soobin does what he was told. After his lullaby, the marble lady materialises the pedestal. The marble lady looks down upon you both, only to flee the next minute.

"Wait! M'lady, come back!" Soobin chases her, you follow them through the long hall you were in. The waltz music plays again. The statues you both ran past were dancing again.

The marble lady opens a door and goes through it. Before Soobin could stop and analyze the door, he tripped through alongside you.

You were the first one to look where they ended up in. It looked like you returned to Fairyland. You hear a groan below you and your cheeks flushes red immediately. You quickly get off Soobin and help the tall male stand up.

"I'm so sorry, Soobin! I never realized you were below me," Soobin laughs and pats her head.

"It's not your fault, it's my fault for suddenly fleeing after the marble lady. By the way, where are we?" He asks- the trees looked shorter, more mushrooms on the trees, and lizards standing on two legs whilst wearing heavy armor.

"What is that!?" Soobin shouts in fear and shock. He hid behind you, even though he's the taller one. The creature turns its head at both of you before it pulls out its sword. Your eyes widen as you immediately get on your feet.

You inspect the lizard related creature. It looked like a dragon, but with no wings. The heavy armor makes a clicking sound every time they move. The creature looked strong; they are definitely not a match for neither of you. Suddenly, you remember what they are, they're from her great-grandfather's sketches. He calls them Kobolds!

"Kobold, sir... we mean no harm and we wouldn't want harm to us as well. Please, put your sword down. I promise you, we are weaponless." You reassured them. The kobold looked hesitant but eventually put his sword down.

"Why are there humans in our forest?" The kobold who you talked to ask the other beside him.

"Sir, we were chasing a marble lady but ended up here. Have you seen her? I also deeply apologize if we are trespassing on your property. All we wanted is to go back to our home," You added, and kobolds look at her in shock.

"You, lady. How can you understand us? We are speaking our own language," you assumed who was the leader asked you.

"What do you mean, good sir? You are speaking the human language," you tilt your head.

"Yes, s-sir. You are speaking the human language." Soobin stares at them, fear still prominent on his face.

"No, we are speaking our own language! I am guessing, there is some power in you that could make you understand us. That power makes it seem like we're speaking in your language," The kobold explains.

You look at Soobin and show him a relieving smile. He gulps the lump in his throat and holds your hand, tightly.

"Kobold, sir. Do you know how we can leave your forest?" you question the Kobolds who nod their heads.

"We could show you, but it will be a long journey. Maybe, along the way, you can tell me how you got here." He says, and you showed a reassured smile. The kobolds smile at your reaction.

"Splendid! We'll let you guide our ways," you say. The leader Kobold shows you both the way. Eventually, he would ask you questions about your sudden appearance.

Unbeknownst to you and the leader, Soobin was being mocked by the other Kobolds.

"Another question about us, how did you know we are Kobolds? It takes time for other creatures and spirits to know we are Kobolds." The leader asked. His eyes kept glancing at you and the path in front of him.

"I've seen a sketch of your kind in my great-grandfather's sketchbooks. His sketches are marvelous, always so realistic and splendid. You look very similar to the very first kobold he drew." You smile, suddenly, the kobold halt his steps. You did the same and turn to look at him. A softer and relieved look flashes over his face.

"It has been very long, I see. When did your great-grandfather pass away?" The kobold asks.

"The mid-last year. Why do you ask, sir? Do you know him?" You ask, curious about why he looks like that.

"It is nothing, we are almost there." The kobold smiles as you continue walking.

"Y/n, help me~ they kept on mocking me," you turn your head around. You try to contain your laughter when Soobin looks miserable in between all three kobolds. Soobin grunts and goes to your side.

"Aw, wittle baby wants his mommy~," The kobolds continued to mock Soobin who looked embarrassed. Soon enough, you were all outside the forest, and a much more pleasing sight greeted everyone.

It was a beach, its sand was a beautiful beige color, the waters were crystal clear, and there were sea shells of different sizes.

"This is beautiful, but how did we get to a beach?" Soobin asks, the kobold didn't answer and points at a boat by the docks.

"Get on that boat, let it take you to an island with a cottage. There will be an ancient lady. I believe she could help you." The kobold smiles,

"Thank you so much, Kobold Si-," you look at the Kobold who now looks like a human. He was still tall, however, he was more human than a creature.

"My name is Taehyun, a great friend of your great-grandfather. I'm glad he found a loved one and had a family. I'm hopeful you will continue this fairy tale for him." Taehyun smiles before he jogs forward you and Soobin.

"Now end this fairy tale. Good luck," you nod and hold Soobin's hand. You both bid them a goodbye before they both walk to where the boat is. Suspicions arise when you saw the man on the captain's seat.

"G'day~ I'm Jake! You're headed to that island, I believe?" He points his finger at the island across from you. The island has a cottage on it, but not that clear for both of them to see.

"If that's where the said ancient lady lives, then yes, that is where we are headed." Soobin says, and the man nods before he starts the engine of the boat. Soon enough, the boat moves at a rapid speed.

The clear blue sky was replaced with a dark cloudy one. The waves were getting larger, and the boat was unstable. Luckily for them, Jake was quick enough, and they made it to the island safely.

"Have a safe trip! Don't danger yourselves in that cottage! A young man went inside and never came out on the other side." Jake says as he watches you and Soobin get off the boat.

"Thank you, sir. Let's get going, y/n. I doubt this is the end," Soobin turns his head at the girl. You bobbed your head as you both entered the cottage.

The cottage was small, however, when they went inside, there were four doors. Each one made from different wood. Just 4 doors and nothing else.

"Y/n, I think we need to stay together this time," Soobin says as he watches you press your hand against the dark oak door.

"You think so?" You push the door open. Instantly, Soobin runs to your side and intertwines their hands. "Let's take a step together, shall we?" Soobin takes a deep breath and clasped your hand tighter.

You smile and like what you both agreed on; you took a step together.

Once you open your eyes, you were both back in the manor where it all started. However, Soobin was a young boy again.

"What- why am I child again?" Soobin asks, you chuckle, and kneels to pat his head.

"You're so cute, Binnie~," You say to which he smiles widely. He jumps into your arms and hugs you tightly. This reminded you of your youngest brother, the warmth of the little boy made you miss your home.

The door opens after a knock. Soobin breaks the hug as you both turn your heads at the door. The sight of his mother greets you both.

She was wearing a black dress that touches the floor. She looks sad, almost emotionless.

“I see you are handling my son well. Please, get him dressed. It is almost time for my son's funeral,” your eyes widen. You turn your head to look at Soobin.

His eyes of glee replaced with sadness when he remembered this dreadful memory of his.

"Of course, m'lady. We'll be ready in 30 minutes," His mother leaves the room and closes the door. You embraced Soobin once more, the boy completely melting because of your warmth.

"It may be just a memory and we're re-living it now, but I guarantee you, we'll leave this memory together. Let's get you dress, little one," you kiss forehead before standing up.

You went through his closet, pulling out the required attire. You give the boy his clothes and exit the room for the young boy to change.

"Is Soobin getting ready?" A man asks her. He had some of Soobin's features, so she assumed he's the father. "Yes, sir," you say and his father sighs.

"Please, as Soobin's personal maid and his friend, try to cheer him up. Other than you, he is very close with his brother." He says, obviously concerned. He looks like he was about to cry.

You pat his shoulder, "Sir, I ensure you that Soobin will be okay. He is a strong boy, he has gone through enough to prove that. Focus on saying goodbye to your eldest son, peacefully," you smile before you heard the door open.

"I'm done..." Soobin peeks his head out and you smile.

You excused yourself and enter Soobin's room. The boy was sitting down on the bed, "Is there something wrong?"

"I miss my brother and I know this is just a memory. I've accepted his death, so I'm not really sad, but must I re-live this memory again?" Soobin asks to which you didn't answer with words but a hug once more.

"It won't take long, I promise," you muttered and Soobin nods. Soon, you were called and told to get in the car provided. They drove you both to where the funeral is held.

Soobin looks at the familiar casket where the pale and lifeless body of his brother lay.. He walks closer to the casket, his hand in your grasp. He emotionlessly looks at his dead brother.

He was quiet the whole time they were saying their farewells to him. His grip on your hand only became tighter. They stand on the side. His parents were crying for his brother.

"Y/n, I can never see you again after I get back.... right?" Soobin whispers as he looks down. You look down at the young Soobin. You notice the tears falling from his eyes onto the grass.

"I'm more sad saying goodbye to you," Soobin wipes his tears away. You frown and patted his head. You couldn't say anything, you couldn't say you might meet again.

He embraced you once more before you were back to the cottage. Soobin wasn't a young boy, anymore. You turn their heads towards the door they went through, it's gone. Three doors remain.

You wipe his remaining tears away before she stands up. "Come on, let us continue." She smiles and helps Soobin stand up. "Now, let's go through the next door." The next door was made of birch.

Soobin opens the door, and he turns to look at you. He reaches his hand out, making you smile softly. You intertwined your hands and soon; you enter the door together.

You were back to the palace, in the hallway of the dancing statues. Soobin halts his movements once he sees Knight Yeonjun and the marble lady.

You glance at Soobin before at the other two. Yeonjun was holding the marble lady's hand. The lady was smiling and was leaning closer to his lips. It looked like she was about to kiss him.

"And here I thought, I could fall in love with her," Soobin sighs in disbelief. You laugh and shake your head and mentally ask him how he had that thought.

"How can you even fall in love with a marble lady? You just saw her, sing for her, and fall for her." You continue to laugh, Soobin joins you. His grip on your hand became tighter, and he rests his head on your shoulder.

"Heartbreak must really love me. It must love me so much since the marble lady loves the knight and you're going to leave soon," Soobin whispers, you feel guilty.

You bring his hand close to your lips. You place a soft kiss on his knuckles before you pecked his cheek.

"A handsome and kind fellow like you does not deserve heartbreak, Soobin. Maybe, you're just unfortunate." You sweetly smile as Soobin's cheeks flush red.

"Let's go," Soobin coughs, and in a blink of an eye, you were back to the cottage. The door was gone once again. Two doors remain.

You went through the next door, a door made of normal oak wood. You gasp in fear when your eyes land on the fearful sight in front of you both. Soobin was surprised as well, but as soon as he gained his mind back, he stood in front of you. The smell of iron fills the room.

You look around the room while staying close to Soobin. You cover your nose and hold tightly onto Soobin's shirt. "S-Soobin, I think... We're in your family's mausoleum." She stutters,

You shake at the gory sight in front of you. His mother laid dead on the floor. Blood covers her entire body. "We need to get out of here," Soobin kept his arms around you and ran out of the room.

He found the door and immediately went through it. You both returned to the cottage. Both tried to breathe the air with no smell of blood. "That was horrible..."

"One more door..." Soobin helps you get up. You were still shaking. You rest your head on Soobin's chest. As if he read your mind, he lets you stay like that and regain your breathing.

He kept his arms around you before he patted her head twice whilst you finally calm herself. She moves away from him, muttering a 'thank you' to him.

"Thank you, let's go through that door now. It's the last one," you say. Still holding his hand, Soobin nods. Soon, you both went through the door together once more.

However, when they entered the room, it felt like everything was spinning. Everything was getting blurry, and you both felt like you want to throw up. That continued for minutes, but it felt like forever.

Suddenly, someone grabbed your hands and dragged out them of the room. You let out a grunt as you make eye contact with the lady.

"What happened?" You ask softly, the lady helps you sit up. You turn your head to look at Soobin, who has his hands on his head.

"I saved you, but you remember nothing. Now, I want you both to leave this place. You opened all the doors. The island will sink. There is an isthmus outside the island. Use that and leave," The ancient lady drags you out of her cottage.

You wrap Soobin's arm around your shoulder before you cross the Isthmus. However, your strength ran out and you both black out when they made it to the other side of the Isthmus.

Soobin groans in pain as soon as he wakes up. He was warm, too warm to the point he was sweating. He sits up and looks around the place he was in. It was a blacksmith. Two men were forging swords and armor on the side.

One man looks at him and smiles. "Ah, you're awake! Your female friend is still asleep, but would you like some armor?" The brunette one asks him.

"Do not mind him. I'm Beomgyu and this is my brother, Huening Kai. We're forging weapons and armor to battle the three giants living in a stronghold! You could join us," Beomgyu smiles at him.

They confused Soobin: Is this how they treat people who just woke up? He looks around. No sign of you or anything. "Where is the girl?" He asks as Huening Kai points at another door.

"She is still unconscious. You can enter the room but do nothing. I will not hesitate to chop your head off." Huening Kai says as he shows him an axe he forged. Soobin nods and enters the room.

You were still unconscious, like they said. He moves to sit beside you and brushes the hair away from your face. He studied your facial features. What attracted him the most are your eyes and your lips. Soobin holds your hand and kisses it. "Please, wake up soon," He says and the door cracks open.

"Join our fight while she's still asleep. I will give you armor, don't die on her," Beomgyu smiles and Soobin follows him. He didn't even get time to prepare himself.

He just woke up, talked to these two brothers, checked on you, and now he's joined their fight. No time to prepare at all. The fight was going well until other giants ambushed them. Both brothers died and Beomgyu has asked him to tell the girl he loves that he loves her.

Soobin nods and kills all the giants; their blood splattered all over him. He looked like a piece of bloody meat. Everything happened too quick. He couldn't comprehend anything at all.

Soobin returns to their now empty home and sees you. As soon as your eyes landed on him, they grew wide. He was covered with blood, head to toe, as the smell of iron fills the room. He quickly apologizes and head to the bathroom.

After cleaning, Soobin explained everything to the worried you. You sighed in relief. He survived and embraced the tall male. He's now the hero of the kingdom he just saved.

"Soobin, we need to journey again. I'm sorry I was unconscious for a while," you whisper. Soobin chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you closer to him.

His eyes staring directly at hers as his heart beats quicker. He leans closer and pecks her lips, which surprises her. He leans back and examined your reaction. You were surprised but definitely not disappointed.

You leaned over and closed the distance between you both. Your arms around his neck whilst he placed you on the table. Your lips connected and warmth fills the cold room. The kiss felt euphoric for both of you.

Soobin breaks the heated kiss and rests his chin on top of your head.

"It's alright, but we need to find the woman one brother loved. We need to tell her how he felt about her," Soobin says and changed his clothes into lighter ones. You flushed red and turn around.

"Must you really change in front of me!? How did you get so confident?" You pout, your cheeks grew warmer. Soobin finishes changing his clothes and wrapped his arms around your waist once more.

"I am now a hero of a kingdom I saved. I must have confident to be a great hero. Also, I just kissed the girl I fell in love with... I feel really confident," Soobin says. You pouted and turned around to face him.

You pecked his lips before you start your next journey. It felt like it has been months since you entered this world. How much longer do they have to journey for to return home?

"Let's hurry, we must race the night." Soobin, his facial features stand out more when his hair is brushed back. You froze on your spot when Soobin wrapped his cloak around your shoulder.

They both left the kingdom's grounds. Both staying close with each other as they walked through the forest. Suddenly, your kiss popped inside into your head.

Your first kiss... taken by a man whom you met in a storybook.

You dreamy sigh, you noticed the sun was setting. However, your eyes grew wide in surprised when you saw Soobin's shadow moving. It looked like it was about to hit him with something.

"Soobin, watch out!"

Soobin wakes up in a cell. His eyes go wide when he sees you unconsciously laid beside him. “Y/n! Y/n, please wake up!” He rests your head on his lap. He flinched his head to the side when he heard something fall from the other side of the call.

“You fool! I will get you!” Soobin enrages when he saw his shadow. It looked like it was laughing at him. He fights the tears that threatened to fall and face you once more.

"Please, wake up. You don't know how much you mean to me right now. I have fallen, fallen deeply in love with you, y/n. Please, wake up, my love," Soobin says as he pecks your lips once more.

Days have passed, Soobin has refused to eat anything his shadow has offered him. You remained unconscious, which worried him. However, he knows you will wake up; you are still breathing, after all.

Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, and Soobin pull immediately pulled you closer to him. "Y/n! Thank goodness!" He hugs you tightly as you questioned the unknown events.

"We will find out way out, I promise," Soobin clasps her hand.

"Bin, we're in a cell underground... How can we escape?" She mutters,

"I do not know, but we will find a way-," Soobin was cut off by a song. A lady was singing a song, although they don't know where the lady is coming from. Suddenly, the cell broke and Soobin could shield you from the metal pieces.

"Are you okay?" You ask Soobin, who nodded. Immediately, you get out of the cell and ran upstairs. The song still being sung, and it only stopped when they made it far away from the underground.

"Her voice sounded like the fairy I met before entering fairyland," you stated. Your hand supported the side of your forehead.

"Ah, really?" You nod at Soobin's word. You both continued to walk through the depth of the forest. Soobin was still holding her hand, but you felt safe with him.

You wished you could stay longer with him, however, your life outside of the book stopped you. You have a family to take care of, a world to go back to. You can't stay and low-key dreading for this book to end.

You both stopped once you heard the rustling of leaves on your side. Soobin stood in front of you, ready to fight whatever was coming, until Knight Yeonjun appears with his white horse.

"Ah! Soobin and y/n! Nice to see you again, all safe and sound!" He says and looks at you. A softer smile appears on his lips as he reaches out a sheathed sword to Soobin. The action confused Soobin.

"Become my squire, Soobin! We shall return to my kingdom soon, and I can guarantee you and y/n safety." Yeonjun spat and Soobin looks at you for permission, once you nod your head, he accepts the offer.

He lets go of your hand to take the heavy sword from Yeonjun. Soobin thanks Yeonjun and smiles at y/n, who thanked him as well.

You both follow Yeonjun, talking a little with the knight. Soobin smiles widely whenever he sees you smile. His smile disappeared when his mind reminded him you have to leave soon. Soobin halted his steps when he heard voices. He stood in front of you while Yeonjun pulled out his sword to fight whoever was there.

Suddenly, he was hit on the head causing him to pass out.

A day later, Soobin wakes up in an unknown room once again. The room was dark, the only light source was the candle on the side. He looks around for y/n, only to realize you aren't on his side. He gets off whatever he was lying on and rushed out of the building.

Suddenly, he sees 5 men around a platform. One of them looks at Soobin, a smirk on his lips, and his platinum blonde hair almost covers his eye. Another boy looks at him, he has blonde hair with yellow highlights.

"Sleeping beauty has woken up! How was your sleep? I'm certain you are looking for the girl," the platinum blond says. Soobin sees the platform behind them, his eyes widen when he saw you seated on the platform. You weren't unconscious, but it looked like you weren’t yourself.

Your gaze stayed on the ground and your eye colors looked pale. That's when Soobin felt furious. He rushes towards them but was stopped by another one of them.

"Let go of me!" He kicks the guy off and grabs the idol beside you.

"Don't let him-!" Soobin smashed the idol on the ground. He pulls you closer to him and sees a horrendous monster coming out of the shattered idol. Soobin grabbed the sword from the side and gently placed you down.

"Y/n! If I'm going to die here, please... at least wake up!" Soobin stood still when he felt the monster's arm inserted inside of him. He snickers when he saw the sword in the monster's chest.

"Farewell, my love... I hope you get back home safely."

Soobin gasped before he jolted up from his bed. He looks around the spacious room. Was it all a dream? Why is he suddenly back in his room after death? He hears the door open and sees his mother enter the room.

She runs towards Shotaro and embraces him immediately. Tears stream down her eyes as she kisses her son's forehead. The warmth of her son she missed dearly. A sense of relief fills the hole in her heart.

"I'm so happy you're back... you've been gone for 21 days!" Her mother cries and Soobin felt his heart stop. Soobin felt like he spent years in fairyland... Why did it seem like his long journey lasted for years then?

He looks out of his window, his head full of thoughts of you. He smiles softly and hugs his mother tightly. All he hopes for is that you are safe and are in another world you need to complete.

You were back in the mysterious room. You receive another holographic card which says; 'Chapter two'. She turns it around and sees the title of the next fairytale.

Suddenly, you were in a normal room. The paper appeared in front of you as it wrote it own's words.

"Chapter two; The Little Mermaid."

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

watch your six - part two

pairing: eventual bucky x reader

warnings: some violence, trigger warning of sedation (it isn’t in there for a long time and the description of it isn’t super good BUT it’s still there), mentions of kidnapping, i think that’s it.

word count: just a bit over 3k

a/n: okay! here’s part two, i’m experimenting with the longer parts, so let me know what y’all think of it. bucky does make an appearance soon, i swear y’all :) just be patience with me babes. also, i know this isn’t like the typical fan fic because it isn’t in the second person but we’re powering through together. i hope y’all enjoy babes <3

p.s.: if y’all want to be added to a tag list for this series, shoot me a message and we’ll get it worked out

series m.list

ray’s m.list

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

I shot up from my bed, eyes wild and frantic searching for anything to ground me to my current surroundings. It was just a dream, just a dream. It was just a dream. Except it didn’t feel like a dream. Everything was too detailed, too crisp for it to have really been just a dream. I swung my legs off my bed and grabbed a hold of the fluffy white comforter. Groaning, I pushed my feet to touch the cold hardwood of my apartment. I made my way towards my kitchen and my coffee maker. I popped a breakfast blend K-cup into the slot and dumped a mug full of water into the side of the machine. Pressing the button, I turned while listening to the coffee machine force the water through the coffee grounds and filter and into my cup.

Looking out into my living room, I eyed my couch. It was intact with no bullet holes riddling the cushions. It was still the pristine white that I’ve spent many nights curled on watching movies. The dark stained wood coffee table in front of it brought memories of long study sessions with books and loose papers strewn across it. A faint smile graced my lips as I was reminiscing. The black coffee maker spit the last of the dark substance into my mug, so I reached into my cabinets and pulled out the essentials. I’ve never been one for pure black coffee, tastes like tar in my opinion. The aftertaste isn’t something that I want to deal with for as long as it’ll last.

I dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup and then poured a dash of liquid creamer in along with it. Stirring the now light brown liquid, I raised the mug to my mouth and took a much needed sip. Sighing as I swallowed, I walked around to the couch in the living. Plopping down, I kicked my feet to rest on top of the coffee table. Leaning back against the cushions, I tried to process what my dream was about.

It was just too real to be a dream, right? It was awfully specific to be a dream. Squinting my eyes, I nodded my head and set my mug on the table. Reaching for my laptop and opening the first browser I could, I searched ‘dream analysis.’ Maybe they’ll have something that can give me an answer as to why it was so clear. Scrolling down the first website, my eyes scanning the bolded letters. Nine Common Dreams and What They Could Mean, oh perfect. Flying, being naked in public, teeth falling out, cheating, none of these are like my dream. I shook my head and swiped out of the website and back to the search engine.

It was late in the morning and the sun was rising to its peak when I finally gave up. It’s obvious what happened though, I’ve gone mental. Absolutely insane, just plain certifiable. No, no, that’s not what it is. My coffee now gone cold, I placed my closed laptop on the coffee table next to the discarded coffee mug. I stood and my head started throbbing. Deciding I would have a better outlook on things without a pounding head, I took a shower. The water was a pleasant, scalding temperature. Leaving the bathroom with my hair in a towel and another wrapped around my body, I changed into a simple pair of ripped mom jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Hanging my towels on the rack in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and then turned out the light as I left.

Today was my one day off of work this week and I was going to savor it. Slipping on a pair of ratty sneakers and grabbing my purse from the hook next to the door, I left my cozy apartment. I locked the door and shoved my keys all the way to the bottom of my purse. I left my building with the intention of trying to shake off the nightmare that I had. To do so, I went into the coffee shop at the end of the block. I pushed the doors open and was greeted with a warm and inviting atmosphere. Dark floors gave way to twinkling lights illuminating the charcoal gray walls. Behind the counter, I make eye contact with the barista and receive a tight-lipped smile from him. “Hi, welcome to Beniot’s Beans. What can I get started for you today?”

I glanced at the chalkboard menu and ran my eyes over it quickly. I already knew what I wanted, but I needed to prepare myself to say it out loud. “Hello, can I get a medium caramel iced coffee to go, please?” I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet as he scribbled my order onto the clear plastic cup. He told me my total as I looted in my wallet for my bills. After placing the money in the register, he explained that they would call my order when it was ready. I nodded and walked off to find somewhere to sit that was out of the way. After situating myself on one of the comfortable armchairs, I pulled my phone out in an effort to discourage human interaction. After retrieving my order from the counter, I sat back down in the armchair, trying to decide what to do next. The hour was just rolling over to being almost lunchtime, which made me realize that I hadn’t eaten anything yet. Shrugging my purse back onto my shoulder and shoving my phone into it, I left the store throwing a small wave to the barista behind the counter.

Sighing contentedly, I made the trek back to my apartment while steadily drinking the iced coffee. Some people say coffee shouldn’t be cold, and then there’s people who have sense. Giggling to myself, I took in my surroundings. Brick buildings lined the small two-way road. The donut shop on the opposite side of the street had two cop cruisers sitting in front of it. The contrasting black and white paint with black lettering outlined in yellow was intimidating. There was no reason for it to be, but there was just an aura of discomfort encapsulating the cars. By this time, I had stopped, slurping on my almost empty iced coffee. Breaking out of my trance with a ring of a bell, four officers exited the donut shop. Two of the officers held off-white cardboard boxes, they were all laughing at something. I tilted my head and scrunched my brows, guess the stereotype about cops is true, they love their donuts. Sensing a stare, one of the officers looked around for the source. Eventually, our gazes locked and he winked. Uh, ew. Making a face, I shook my head and went about my way back to my apartment.

Despite that experience, it was nice to be able to have no specific agenda, just relaxing and going with the flow. My inner monologue stopped when I got to my kitchen and started deciding what to prepare for lunch. Finally landing on a box of macaroni and cheese to satisfy my hunger, I set to work. The pot of water now on the stove, I tossed my empty plastic cup from the coffee shop into the garbage bin. I went around to my living room and grabbed my coffee mug from earlier and placed it in the sink, after rinsing it out. I’ll wash that and the stuff I use for lunch after I finish eating. I dumped the box of uncooked noodles into the now boiling water. Soon, the macaroni was ready to be eaten, so I poured the cheesy noodles into a bowl. Hoisting myself onto the granite countertop, I began to inhale the food. Wow, okay I was hungrier than I thought. It didn’t take long to finish off the noodles. As I was washing the dirty dishes, the intercom system of the apartment went off. Weird, I wasn’t expecting anyone. “Who is it?” I inquired into the speaker box. “Hi, I’m looking for the inhabitant of this flat.”

My brows furrowing, I asked again, “Who is this?”

“Ma’am, please don’t waste my time or yours. Is this the woman who lives in this apartment, yes or no?” They sounded exhausted. “I need to speak with the woman who lives here.” I was shocked, this didn’t seem right. Alright, I’m a woman living alone in an apartment building. Some stranger comes to my building, asking to speak to me, so what do I do?

“Uh, yeah they’re not here. You’ll have to come back later.” The lie was easy. Safety first and all, right? There was no reply after waiting a few minutes, so I went back to doing my dishes. After drying and putting them away, I kicked my shoes off and settled into my couch with a fluffy blue throw. Flicking the TV on, I picked the home improvement channel. I stretched out on the couch while wondering how realtor Bessie May was going to find this couple the perfect home. Snuggling further into the pillows, I was able to drift off into a dreamless slumber.

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

It was loud banging that eventually roused me. Untangling myself from the fluff that wrapped around my legs, I toppled onto the floor. “I’m coming, hold your horses!” I shouted at the door. Who the hell? I swear if it’s my crazy neighbor again. “Marge! If this is you, we are going to have a problem!” I huffed my way to the door and yanked it open to reveal a group of men in what looked like dark tactical gear. Confusion overtook my facial features. I took a step back and tightened my grip on my door knob.

“Um… hi? Can I help you?” I questioned the group at large.

“Ma’am, we’re looking for the permanent resident of this apartment.” The man to my left said. He was short and stocky, he was also the only man wearing a dark gray suit. “Are you the permanent resident of this unit?” He continued while trying to see over my shoulders and into the living room.

“No, they’re not here right now.” I repeated the lie from earlier. I had an inkling this had to do with that, what else could it be?

“Well, do you know when she’ll be back?” He pressed, still stealing glances into my abode.

“No, she didn’t say. You’ll have to come back later. Goodbye.” I stated while closing the door. I was almost home free until a combat boot clad foot was stuck into the door frame.

“You see ma’am, this really isn’t the time to be lying to me.” The suited man explained. I took a deep breath and continued trying to close the door.

“Well, I’ve already told you all I know. The person who owns this place isn’t here right now.” The door was stopped yet again by the same foot.

“Ma’am, you need to invite us inside. We have things to discuss.” Suits ordered.

My brows raised, “Or what?” I scoffed, “Look you need to leave before I call the police. Good day to you gentlemen.” Another attempt to close the door was once again defeated, but this time the door swung in. Allowing entrance into my apartment. My eyes widened and I rushed away from the door, putting as much distance between the group of men and myself.

“What the hell are you doing! I’m calling the police.” I reached for my phone that was laying on the coffee table. It was snatched away from me by a man in tactical gear. His hair was cropped and dark, he slipped my phone into one of the many pockets of his vest. I raised my eyebrows at the man, and began demanding my phone from him.

“Listen ma’am, we’re going to need you to come with us.” Suits insisted. My gaze darted to him, if looks could kill man. “We’re allowing you the privilege of getting a bag of your necessities.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my ever rising nerves. I brought the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to clear the fogginess of sleep to process what Suits was saying. “We don’t have all day. Get your stuff now.” I shook my head and started refusing.

“Yeah, that won’t be happening. I’m asking you one last time to leave my apartment before I start screaming.” I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective stance. They’ve got five seconds before I raise hell. Suits made a face that looked like he was disappointed.

“Grab her.” The man who took my phone advanced at me. His whole hand covered my upper arm, lifting it and beginning to drag me to the door. I started kicking out, clawing, trying to make contact with anything that I could hurt. Damage, don’t stop fighting. Don’t give in. Whipping my upper body around, I managed to scratch the man's cheek. He cried out in pain and his grip loosened for just a moment. Long enough for me to wrench my arm away from him and run towards the front door. My path was interrupted by a wall of a man. Towering over me, he wrapped both of his arms around my torso. Effectively stopping all of my movement while he turned me in his grasp to face Suits once again.

“Help! Someone help me! Help me!” This was a quiet enough building, shouts like that would surely gain someone’s attention, right? “Help! Someone help me, please!” I was screaming my throat sore. Not stopping until there was a large hand placed over my mouth. Even then, there were muffled cries that could be heard throughout my otherwise silent apartment unit. Stifled sobs were leaving my lungs in heaves. Suits approached me and shook his head,

“It really didn’t have to be like this but, of course.” He turned to one of his goons and nodded his head towards me. I began screaming again as the final goon stepped forward. His hair was slicked back and I could smell the hair gel that he must have just dipped his head into. Hair Gel reached into his pocket and brought out a small white case.

He unzipped the case and gestured to the mass of a man behind me. My head was moved to expose my neck, I struggled against Mass while Hair Gel approached. Screaming and thrashing trying to disrupt what I thought was about to happen. Hair Gel assembled a syringe, outfitting it with a blue capped needle. Hair Gel extracted a clear liquid into the syringe, he got closer to my jolting body, glaring at Mass.

“Hold her still, you buffoon.” He grunted at Mass. The grip around me began cutting off my circulation to the lower half of my body. Not deterring me in any way, I still made it as hard as I could for Hair Gel. There was a pinch on the side of my neck, and then a warm feeling passed through my body. Mass’s hand was still covering my mouth and his arms around my torso, if it weren’t for that I probably would’ve fallen straight to the ground. Oh hell man, what am I going to do now?

My body went limp in Mass’s hold, and my mind was starting to become fuzzy. Looking around at the three men in front of me, I worried what was going to happen. I’ve seen Taken. I know what happens to girls who travel alone. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like me. Suits sighed yet again, looking disinterested in the whole affair. Suits looked to the man who I scratched and shook his head at him.

“You seriously let her get her hands on you?” Suits mocked, “That’s pathetic, Gomez.”

“Pathetic? She was clawing me, man!” The man, Gomez, defended.

“It doesn’t matter, you idiot. You still aren’t supposed to let it happen.” Suits berated Gomez and then waved him off, “Go get the stuff. And don’t mess it up this time, ya got that?” Gomez rolled his eyes at Suits, but nodded anyway. He left the room towards my bedroom. My eyelids started drooping, I willed them to stay open a bit longer.

“How long’s it gonna take that stuff to kick in?” Suits asked Hair Gel.

“Oh, it starts working immediately.” Hair Gel finished replacing everything in his white case, turning to me, he continued, “The body reacts to the compound right away, inducing temporary paralysis. It’s really quite remarkable to watch it in action.”

Suits glanced at Hair Gel, “You mean to tell me it doesn’t make them unconscious? What the hell did I bring you along for?”

“Of course it makes the victim unconscious, what do you think I’m stupid or something? It just takes a couple of minutes for the enzyme to break down for the brain.” Hair Gel tilted his head while looking at me. He gave me a once over and if I had any kind of control over my body, there would’ve been an unmistakable shiver that passed through my body. Gomez emerged with a duffle in tow and dumped the closed bag on the couch.

“Don’t forget the laptop, Gomez.” Suits reminded him while his attention was on the kitchen of my apartment. “Alright, let’s go.” With the effort it takes to lift a feather, Mass carried me bridal style out of my unit. My eyelids were becoming even more heavy and I screamed and shouted in my head, but my mouth just wouldn’t move. The four men made their way out, passing my crazy neighbor Marge.

“Can I help you boys with something?” Marge’s door was open, and she leaned up against the frame, watching this scene go down.

“Nothing to be worried about ma’am. This is official government business.” Suits reported, simply shrugging off Marge.

“Government business?” Marge shrieked, and a glimmer of hope flashed in my head. Marge won’t fall for your bullshit Suits. She’s going to save me. “I always knew there was something off about that one.” What the hell, Marge?

“Like I said ma’am, nothing to worry about. Now if you would, just go back inside. We’re done here.” Suits advised. Marge, who was none the wiser, bounced her shoulders and turned back into her own unit. She could be heard through the door explaining to her guests that her next door neighbor was always strange and never really sat right with her.

“Doesn’t surprise me they’re taking her away. I always knew something was off about that girl. I told you so.” Marge howled with laughter after her statement. My last hope dashed by my crazy neighbor’s complete ignorance and lack of acknowledgement for her surroundings. Mass began his descent of the stairs with a steady pace. The constant rocking back and forth of his body weight served to lull my eyelids the rest of the way closed.

#bucky x reader #eventual bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #sebastian stan #bucky fanfic #female reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 6

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: Fluff, only a tad of angst if you squint

WC: 2500

A/N: Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

This series is two weeks ahead on Patreon.

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Dean tried to sleep on the couch but it wasn’t as comfortable as the bed, that much was given. It’s just that he doesn’t want to overstep boundaries. And he most probably would do if he slipped in next to her, so he’d rather not.

He gets woken up by her whining though. She probably has fever dreams. He stays rigid, listens to her, kind of hoping that it’d go away but the whining only picks up, so he gets up and walks over, sits himself on the bed next to her and strokes at her head. She’s still so unbearably hot.

Pouring water into the glass that he placed next to her bed, he wakes her up to drink from it.

She looks at him, her eyes see her surroundings but she doesn’t really register, “‘ve to pee,” She mumbles, “Can you help me up?”

Dean frowns a little. So she does know where she is, clearly sees that someone takes care of her, and she’s okay with it. It baffles him a little, but he’s glad that she let him. Let him take care of her without asking any further questions.

“Sure,” He says and helps her up.

It took them an awfully long time until she was standing, “Should I carry you?”

“I can walk,”

“Okay,” He knows that she probably can’t make the long way to the bathroom, but he’s not going to be a wise-ass about it. However, he steadies her and helps her take one step after another.

After the fourth step, she turns to him with pouting lips, “Can you carry me?”

He lets out a soft chuckle, “Yeah,”

Picking her up, he carries her to the bathroom and lets her down right in front of the toilet, “Do you need me t—”

“—No.”

“Okay, I’ll be right outside,”

“‘K,”

She takes her time and Dean’s sweating because he already paints the most absurd scenarios in his head. What if she falls asleep on the toilet and leans too close to the sink? He abandons the thoughts, because there were just too many ways on how she could hurt herself in there.

He breathes again when he hears the flush of the toilet and when he hears her washing her hands, he opens up the door again.

She turns around, her eyes are still foggy, “I don’t wear panties.”

“Yeah,” Dean huffs out a breath, “They, uh, I bathed you, I have new ones if you want to wear them.”

“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head.

Dean grins, “Nuh-uh?”

“Too much work.”

Well, yeah, that’s fair. It would be too much work for him either to get them on her. He’s trying to be good and she should not test his patience.

She reaches her arms up, touches his neck. It’s cold from the water and Dean senses that she’s trying to tell him something but he’s distracted by her cuteness, until he realizes that she probably wants him to help her back to bed.

“You want me to carry you back to bed, Y/N?”

Her face rubs against his chest and he can’t see but he guesses that she's back in her trance because she didn’t give him an answer. He picks her up, and carries her to the bed, and he’s right, she already has her eyes closed.

Dean covers her with the sheet and pushes himself off the bed when she taps him on his thigh, “Stay?”

“Yeah,” He smiles, “Of course.” He walks around and gets in and again, she curls up next to him.

For the next twenty-four hours, she was mostly in and out of consciousness. Dean occasionally woke her up to get soup and water into her. He carried her to the bathroom when she had to pee and he drew her another bath when he felt like she’s hot again.

He had to leave her for an hour to go down and brief his employees. If they noticed how he was dressed (in his sweats and a simple shirt), they knew not to say a word. He returned to his loft after telling them that he’s here but he’s not really here. None of them asked any questions and he knows that the club is in good hands with Cas taking care of it. He somehow also sees it as an opportunity for Cas to prove himself. Maybe he’ll take more days off, test Cas to see if he would be a good fit when Dean would open up another club, and let Cas manage there. Who knows.

It’s almost 5am when she wakes up again and she turns around to see him sitting in bed with his back against the headboard. He was going through the emails of his private investigators for people who signed up for the waiting list when he heard her speak.

“Dean?”

He looks over to her, sees her blinking before she sits up. He tries not to laugh, because her hair’s all messy, like really messy, and greasy from all the sweating that she’s done.

“Yeah?” He grins simply.

“Why am I here?”

Well, Dean can’t lie. It hurts a little that she doesn’t remember their interaction. He closes the laptop, sets it aside, “You wanna hear the short version or the long version?”

Y/N rubs at her eyes and yawns, “Something in between?”

Dean raises an eyebrow before he chuckles, “Well, we were supposed to meet, you still remember that?”

He thinks it’s cute how he can literally see the penny drop.

“Oh, shit!”

“Yeah,” He huffs out a breath, “I didn’t know what happened and I brushed it off as you maybe having changed your mind, but then your boss called—”

“—Rufus? Oh, no!”

“The very one. Just, how many bosses do you have?” He pulls his eyebrows up his forehead. She doesn’t answer so he takes it that he can go on, “Mr. Turner said that he tried to reach you and even sent someone over to check but you didn’t answer the door. “

Her gaze is trained on her lap, and she tries to tuck strands of greasy hair behind her ear. She’s really so cute it almost hurts for him to watch her.

“I remember feeling hot and then I thought if I went to bed I’d feel better by the morning,” She mumbles and he has the feeling that she’s trying to explain, which she really didn’t have to. She stares at her hand for way too long before she speaks again, “How did you find me?”

Dean shrugs with an easy grin on his face, “I climbed the fire escape.”

“You didn’t,”

“I sure did,” He laughs and she has to smile at that.

He’s glad to see her smile. She has to do way more of that.

“What time is it?” She asks with her next breath.

“Almost 5am.”

She frowns at him, “Why are you up?”

“You trashed around in your sleep and I had to come and hold you, so that you didn’t hurt yourself.” He says, which is true. She whined and grunted and he was seriously afraid that she’ll fall out of bed.

Y/N lifts up the blanket to get up and Dean almost can’t get out of bed fast enough to help her.

She looks at him standing next to her before she looks down at herself, her hands rubbing at her ass, probably noticing again that she’s not wearing any panties, “We didn’t, did we?”

“What? You were barely conscious. I would never,”

Her face is unfazed as she looks up at him, her eyebrows rising, as if she urges him to tell her the truth, as if she doesn’t really believe him. That kind of hurt.

Dean sighs and rolls his eyes, “Fine. I did put you in a bath to get your temperature down and then I put another shirt on you because your clothes were full of sweat. Wait,” He walks over to his couch and she sits back on the bed, waits for him to return with the big bags of clothes. She’s sitting down again, probably still too weak to stand for a longer period of time, “Claire went out and bought you stuff. I hope it’s not all crop tops and mini skirts. I didn’t check, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Can I take a shower? I feel filthy.” She asks him and they are sitting so close, her naked thighs touch his sweats.

“Of course,” He says, smirks and adds, “Let me check your temperature first.” Dean reaches his hand up to place his palm on her forehead, then he switches to the back of his hand. After that, he cradles her face in between his hands, and she frowns when she watches him place a kiss on her forehead. He lingers there longer than necessary.

She has to chuckle, “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking your temperature.” He whispers against her skin.

“That’s not how you do it, Dean!” She’s laughing and he thinks it sounds great. He would love to hear it more often.

He presses his lips into a thin line but he can’t hide the smirk, “Are you saying that every time I checked Sammy’s temperature, I did it all wrong?”

She’s full on laughing when he fake gasps and Dean can’t help but thinks that it’s easy with her. She gets his humor. If he knew that back then, he wouldn’t have wanted to wait so long to meet her again.

Dean showed her the way to the bathroom, carrying the bags with him so she can get dressed afterwards.

She made a brave face in front of him but she was screaming on the inside.

Like, seriously?

Oh my god.

He found her and he took her home to take care of her.

Who knew that Dean Winchester would do that? Well, she knew that he took great care of Sammy. It’s always Sammy did this , Sammy did that , when he sat next to her in class. She could feel that Sammy was — or still is — very important to him. She just never thought that he would care for her when she was sick with a stupid bug.

She peels herself from Dean’s shirt and steps into the shower. He had shown her how it works because it’s way too fancy for her liking. He also gave her a fresh towel and showed her which one of the toothbrushes was hers. It’s weird staring at the brushes in their holder. Weird to share a holder with anyone, that wasn’t her roommate or family member, no? She’s probably overthinking things.

The shower is really great. It’s big and it has the right water pressure. She doesn’t know why, but her mind goes straight to the gutter when she thinks of things one could do in this shower. She shakes the thought out of her head and continues to soap herself up, continues to wash the grease from her hair and somehow, she wishes that she had a razor with her because the hairs are starting to grow back in all the places where they are not welcome.

After the shower, she gets dressed and almost screams out of frustration at the clothes Claire apparently bought for her. She wonders if it’s a stupid joke but she has no other option, so she walks out of the shower with a towel still wrapped around her wet hair.

Dean’s changing his bedding, when he notices her and turns around to face her but immediately, he throws his whole body back, his mouth open wide in a big hearty laugh.

“What?”

“Fries Before Guys?” Dean says when he finally composes himself.

“Hey, that’s the best shirt, alright? Or at least it probably was a shirt until they cut off the lower half. The others have sayings like ‘Yes, Daddy?’ , ‘No pants are the best pants’ and many more. I won’t name them all. At least the jeans fit.”

They really fit. Just, a little less holes would have maybe been better. Her whole legs had holes in them.

Dean’s still chuckling, “Nah, fries before guys. I like that. Do you prefer fries before guys?” He looks at her with a playful smile and one raised eyebrow.

“I would never,” She says and walks up to him with a grin on her face. Dean watches her. His smile disappears. She places one hand on his shoulder and stands on her tiptoes, places a kiss on his cheek and grins when she parts, “Share my fries.”

He clears his throat before he speaks, and she can see the blush in his cheeks, “Here’s your phone,” He hands it to her, “Mr. Turner would like you to call him when you’re feeling better again.”

“Thanks,” She says and Dean’s already shaking his head, mouth opening probably to tell her that she shouldn’t worry about it. But she does, alright? It doesn’t happen everyday that an old classmate takes care of her when she’s sick. She cuts him off, “No, seriously, Dean. Thank you. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

Dean nods, “It’s really no big deal. I like being around you,”

It’s her turn to blush.

He makes her breakfast and watches her eat while he smiles like an idiot.

“What?” She asks him with one brow raised.

“Nothing,” He shakes his head, and takes a bite himself, “It’s just… it’s good to see you’re eating again.”

She tugs at her shirt while eating. She’s not made for crop tops, doesn’t really feel confident enough and Dean must have noticed because he starts to chuckle, “Do you want one of my shirts?”

“Yes, please,” She groans out and Dean abandons his food to go get her a shirt.

Later he drives her home, although she thinks that he might have wanted her to stay longer but she really feels like she should go back, and rest, now that she’s walking and talking coherently again.

However, Dean stops at a store and they go in to buy foodstuff for her fridge. She cringes that he has looked in there, because last she checked it was empty.

He helps her carry it up to her apartment but turns around to leave right after.

“Dean?” She says before he disappears out the door.

“Yeah?”

She walks towards him, leans herself against the door frame, “Can you show me more when I’m feeling better?”

The frown on his face makes way for a smile, and it grows wide and bright. The crinkles carved deep on the side of his eyes, “Yeah, I’d love to.” Dean leans down, kisses her cheek, “But you get better first, alright?”

“I will.”

He leaves another kiss on her forehead and shrugs when he parts, “Just checking the temperature.”

She laughs. Dean has already made his way down. He waves at her one last time before he rounds the corner of the stairwell.

Chapter 7

#euphoria #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie wrties

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