#why was my immediate impulse to bite him (affectionate) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softluci · 3 years

Text

aggressive affection, i think

(part two here!)

[ @yourlocalsinnamonroll (hi!) sent me an ask to do more gen z headcanons and i started working on something for her, except it isn’t actually a set of headcanons, but rather a really long...one-shot? but anyway, i thought of actual headcanons that i can share now, so i can return to my ROOTS hopefully this will do in the meantime. ]

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,” “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth.

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

lucifer

“blindsided,” does not even begin to describe what you’ve done to this man. while his recovery time was quick, he was still so, so confused.

all he said was, “you look nice today,” why did you threaten to kiss him? was that even a threat?

he doesn’t know because you said, “stop before you get kissed on the mouth,” but it doesn’t matter because you failed to consider that he is obsessed with you in dire need of a kiss on the mouth, and you, silly thing that you are, just provided conditions under which he can get one.

that said, have fun trying to explain to this man that you were joking while he’s holding you against him with the most smug look on his dumb little face. if you don’t wanna kiss him, okay, but by the time he feels like letting you go, your face is gonna be scorching and you will have properly learned not to do that again. unless you enjoyed yourself, in which case—

by the way, if you believe in a higher power, you had better pray he doesn’t do this to you because now that you’ve planted the idea in his villainous little brain, he’s just biding his time. so the next time you compliment him innocently, and he says, “be quiet before i kiss you,” like the monster he is, assert your dominance by kissing him first, it’s the only way to maintain your dignity.

mammon

why would you do that to him. he is literally in love with you, you can’t be doing this. he knows he’s an attractive person, but you can’t tell him that, and you especially can’t do it by flirting with him, it’s embarrassingly disarming. especially since he was going to make fun of you once he saw that you were looking at the issue of majolish with him on the cover. he had a plan and everything, and you ruined it. he was gonna say something dumb cool, after which you would be embarrassed , and he would laugh.

but then you looked at him, said, “i’m gonna eat you,” and his entire plan was thwarted. now you have to stand there and watch him struggle to form a sentence while his face gets red. you should take this opportunity to bite him, give him a little nom on the shoulder or something, just to razz him. it’ll be great, i promise.

luckily, he can’t even think about doing this to you without having to lie down, so you should be safe—unless, of course, he catches both you and himself by surprise. so if you get nommed on, you had it coming.

levi

you menace. you absolute villain. you’re laughing.

levi was about to go into a match he was nervous about, and then you said, “it’s okay, no matter what happens, i will always wanna make out with you,” and then he dropped his controller and blacked out, and you’re laughing.

you’re terrible. absolutely awful. acquaint yourself with shame while you blow cool air into his face and shake him awake.

when he does wake up, and he reminds you that he’s the avatar of envy, do nawt be surprised.

try to explain to him that you were kidding and let it slip that you say these types of things to everyone and you’re getting a tail around your waist. no matter how much he might stutter while he makes his point, the fact remains that he’s the only one you’re allowed to say these things to now. you can do it to the others while he’s not around if you feel so inclined, but he’s going to find out eventually, so good luck explaining yourself while he doesn’t keep his tail still when he uses it to hold you in place.

your only saving grace here is that he is physically incapable of doing it to you, but, you know. that probably gets overridden by how possessive he’s gonna get.

satan

you’re deranged. or just really confident. or a fool. it doesn’t matter, you fucked up. he said a normal thing, and then you threw him for a loop.

you were nervous about an exam the next day, he said, “you’re a capable person, you have nothing to be worried about.”

and then you, evidently forgetting that he is not one of your human friends, said, “flattery will get you made out with,” and tried to walk away.

first of all, how was that flattery? he was stating a fact. second of all, who said he didn’t wanna make out with you🤨. he never said that, you are making assumptions about him and his character.

anyway, he has no idea where you think you’re going, but you didn’t make it very far before he caught up to you anyway.

when he repeats what you said back to you in the form of a question, with that deceptively polite look on his face, know that he is being rhetorical. do not bother trying to explain yourself, it’ll be difficult to do so in a convincing manner while he’s backing you up to the nearest wall. do not be surprised when he takes this opportunity to blindside you with praise, directly into your ear, with that fatally smooth voice of his. and do NAWT be surprised when he pulls back and says, “why am i not being made out with?” with a dumb little smile. it brings him a lot of joy to see you squirm.

you don’t even have a saving grace here. this man is ruthless, he’s gonna do this to you literally whenever he wants, and he won’t even let you look away, let alone run away, so find joy in the monster you have created.

asmo

listen. unless you are genuinely empty headed, there is absolutely no way you did this on accident.

he wasn’t even doing anything out of character either, it was the middle of self-care night, he was putting moisturizer on your face for you, and he went, “you’re even cuter up close,” which is a normal, tame thing for him to say.

so unless you just have uncontrollable knee-jerk reactions, no way did you say, “so make out with me then,” to this man, by accident.

you’re lucky he has some knowledge of the fact that you sometimes say things that aren’t smart, so he didn’t just immediately jump on you; however, you are by no means in the Clear.

you blinked and he was nose to nose with you and basically in your lap. now you have to deal with his wandering hands while you try and explain yourself—that is, if you can even overcome how flustered you are, which you probably can’t. luckily, he knows you probably didn’t mean it, but he’s still asmo, so he takes it upon himself to be respectfully heinous like the gentleman he is.

so when he somehow manages to get even closer to you and says, “honey, you should really get a handle on those impulses of yours, unless you plan on following through,” like the bastard he is, know that from that point forward, whatever happens is on you.

here is another man with whom you have no saving grace; now that you’ve given him the idea that he can be more explicit with you,,, well.

beel

you’re a heathen. why would you do something like this. well, you know what, maybe you aren’t that much of a heathen, considering that you did bake cookies for him. that was really sweet of you, so he thanked you and complimented your skill, like a regular person.

so why, exactly, did you say, “i only accept thanks in the form of kisses, preferably with tongue,” ? something is genuinely not right with you.

now you have this man standing there, confused and red in the face. he’s trying to do the math, and nothing is adding up. like, it’s definitely doable, he can definitely do that, but, like, why would you make this request so suddenly?

this is probably the only instance in which you can coherently say, “i was kidding, you don’t actually have to do that,” and it almost doesn’t work.

you absolutely should not have been leaning against the counter because now he’s standing in front of you, and you have nowhere to run.

however, the thing about beel is that he is someone who flusters people without meaning to, so he has no idea of the effect that his, “are you sure?” has on you.

luckily, you’re still mostly coherent because you know that beel isn’t heinous like his brothers, so you manage to tell him that he doesn’t have to kiss you if he doesn’t want to because you were kidding.

you have every right to be surprised when, all of a sudden, you’re sitting on the counter, and he says, “why do you think i don’t want to?”

do you have a saving grace with this man? kind of. he would never say what you said or something similar, but the next time he compliments you and you choose to be normal and say, “thank you,” he’s gonna ask if he should kiss you, so try not to collapse.

belphie

now. he isn’t the Worst Person you could’ve done this with. but by god you are out of your mind.

your first mistake was choosing to lie down next to him, not because you had plans to be a menace, but because he is always a menace and has a thing for reminding you, which he can do more easily when you’re in proximity to him.

so when he said, out of nowhere, “are you ticklish?” you should’ve just rolled away, which wouldn’t have worked, but it would have been less chaotic then saying, “you are legally required to make out with me before you try and find out.”

you said it so casually that he was almost stunned into staying still, but his recovery time was excellent.

the next thing you knew, you were laying underneath a very smug, very menacing man, who seemed entirely too prepared to listen to what you had to say for once.

“legally?”

okay, so, maybe you should’ve chosen your words more carefully, but he was seconds away from tickling you, so you didn’t exactly have time to defend yourself. you can never backtrack with belphie anyway, so it makes sense that you went headlong into your claim, telling him that yes, this is, in fact, the law of the land.

“i was never one to pay attention to the law, but since you’re being so insistent, i guess i don’t really have a choice—”

leave it to him to pretend like you’re a burden as if he isn’t literally head over heels in love with you like everyone else fond of you. bastard.

there is absolutely nothing to save you from this man. he isn’t tactful enough to wait for an opportunity to do this to you, like satan or lucifer, so expect to be Just Sitting There when he tells you that you’re required to make out with him right this instant—it’s the law.

#obey me!#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

684 notes · View notes

drowningbydegrees · 4 years

Text

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Read on AO3

He can’t remember the last time waking up was a remotely soothing experience. Geralt’s sleep muzzy mind has no other word for the body plastered against his front from shoulder to hip, the steady heartbeat against his palm where his hand is splayed out across someone’s chest. His nose is tucked against the nape of someone’s neck, and the scent is far too familiar to be jarring.

“Jaskier,” he rumbles quietly, his mouth miles ahead of the rest of him. The quiet, absent pleasure of waking up tangled with someone who smells sleepy and content and like they’re his leaves no room for reason. There’s no room for anything really, except to press a kiss to whatever patch of skin he can find, savoring the soft sigh it earns him.

Jaskier is… The night before rushes back to him, and Geralt almost jerks away, even though it would be entirely pointless to bother with that now. He cracks an eye open and is met with the disaster that Jaskier’s hair, mussed in the night by sleep, and by Geralt’s fingers buried in it before that. Even as worry begins to creep in, he sort of wants to do it again.

This isn’t the first time they’ve shared a bed. This probably isn’t even the hundredth time they’ve shared a bed. This is most definitely the first time they’ve done so with so little clothing between them, none to be exact. There’s only the blanket tucked around them both, warm and lovely and unexpectedly distressing.

Geralt isn’t sorry, per se. Jaskier’s chest rises and falls under Geralt’s palm in the slow rhythm of sleep. It’s the loveliest thing Geralt can remember waking up to, and therein lies the problem. An emotion fed only grows, and this unruly, sprawling affection is the worst offender. Stupidly, Geralt had thought getting this out of his system would quell it, but the longing reaches a fever pitch instead.

Jaskier is beautiful, all the more so for the way he shifts in his sleep, closing the gap Geralt has tried to put between them. Geralt could happily wake like this every day for the rest of his life, but it isn’t a fair thing to ask of someone who flits from one love to the next like a butterfly between flowers. He will not trap Jaskier in this just because he happens to be besotted. Somehow, the resolve not to try to keep this does nothing to ease the guilt welling up that he wants to in the first place.

Nothing Jaskier said the night before conveyed meaning beyond a playful desire to tumble into bed together. Moving the target now would only be cruel. He should be rolling out of bed, hastening them back to normal. He should be proving that this has done nothing to harm their friendship. It isn’t Jaskier’s fault, after all, the way Geralt wants to breathe him in and kiss him senseless and forget the rest of the world until the innkeeper boots them out.

“Geralt?” Jaskier startles the witcher from his worries, wriggling impossibly closer and laying a palm over his knuckles. “You okay?”

“Thinking,” Geralt replies vaguely.

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Jaskier teases, still warm and lethargic with sleep. Geralt almost manages to take advantage of the levity of the moment and extricate himself, but before he can, Jaskier rolls over so they’re nearly nose to nose. His fingers cradle Geralt’s cheek and any attempt to escape now would just be graceless. “What about?”

Geralt doesn’t know how to answer, so he only hums noncommittally and hopes Jaskier will let it lie. Of course, Jaskier being Jaskier, does no such thing. He takes advantage of the change in positions to tangle his legs up with Geralt. “I can’t tell you to knock it off if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“We should get going.” Geralt tries once more to escape, frowning when Jaskier shows no sign of releasing him. It’s silly of course. Jaskier couldn’t hope to hold him here if Geralt was set on leaving. He just can’t actually make himself do it.

“Was it that bad a night?” It’s an easy opening, an invitation to stray back to their usual banter, but Geralt gets no further than a raised eyebrow before Jaskier is clasping a hand over the witcher’s mouth. “Wait. Don’t answer that or I might have to smother you with a pillow and that’ll just be unfortunate for both of us.”

Right there, with Jaskier smiling at him, Geralt can almost believe they’re going to survive this. Almost, but almost still leaves a distance he cannot cross. As soon as Jaskier pulls his hand back from Geralt’s mouth, the witcher opens it. “They’re not going to let us sleep in forever.”

“They might if I convince them to let me play again this evening. We could move on tomorrow,” Jaskier ventures, but something in Geralt’s face must give him pause. “Oh do not look at me like that. The world isn’t going to end just because you stop to take a breath once in a while, Geralt.”

“That’s not…” Geralt starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish. There are no words that convey the razor wire sensation of facing down the impermanence of Jaskier’s affections, of realizing how deeply his own feelings run far too late.

“Shh.” Geralt knew what to do with impulse, with Jaskier’s mouth crashing into his, with Jaskier’s hands scrabbling at him to shed his clothes. He doesn’t know what to do with the tender, intentional way Jaskier regards him this morning, lips pressing to the witcher’s brow and lingering afterwards. Does it mean something, or does Jaskier grant all his lovers this subdued, aimless devotion? Lust was so much simpler than this aching sort of affection that puts down roots even as Geralt tries to burn it away.

Geralt doesn’t precisely surrender, but he resigns himself to the lazy attention Jaskier is so determined to lavish on him. If he lets Jaskier turn him away later instead of now, there will be at least this one pleasant thing to remember. So he doesn’t complain at Jaskier’s fingers combing through his hair, or the bard’s body pressed warmly to his. If every touch feels like a harbinger of their demise, it’s still hard to let go of.

He almost passes things off as okay, he thinks, until Jaskier kisses him. It’s a brief thing, immediately withdrawn. “Geralt?”

If realizing the hopeless situation he’s stumbled into was uncomfortable, the idea of talking about it is nothing short of torture.

“Well, you haven’t shoved me out of bed yet, so you’re not mad. Talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, his expression so openly concerned and affectionate, Geralt could scream.

“It’s no-” Geralt starts, but Jaskier shut him up with a theatrically sour look.

“I swear if you say nothing,” Jaskier threatens aimlessly, an easy smile on his lips, but underneath, Geralt can hear the way his anxious heart threatens to vibrate right out of his chest.

“I don’t know what this is,” Geralt admits because that, at least, is safe. It’s nothing about how he feels in relation to anything. It’s nothing about the want that simmers under the surface despite his guilt.

Jaskier’s brows scrunch in a way that would be endearing if the entire ordeal didn’t feel so fraught already. “I don’t think I follow. I mean, I know having a conversation isn’t your usual wheelhouse, but it’s not exactly a foreign concept.”

“Not. That.” Geralt bites the words out, tight and clipped while he gathers his frayed nerves enough to explain. “You’re not in the habit of keeping people. I don’t know what you want.”

For just a second, Jaskier looks like he’s been struck and Geralt wants desperately to take the whole thing back. But the bard’s expression smooths out and then twists up in a wry smile. “Of course I don’t. What would I even do? Drag someone else along on our travels?”

There’s a point Jaskier is making. It’s right there. He knows it is, but it eludes Geralt anyway. “You could have stayed somewhere if there was someone you wanted to stick around for.”

Jaskier laughs, just a giggle at first, and then so hard that even his efforts to bury his face against Geralt’s shoulder do nothing to stifle it. “You are absolutely right. I could fall completely and utterly in love with someone and choose to stick around.”

“I don’t see how that’s funny,” Geralt says flatly, staring at the far wall of their room. The urge to curl around Jaskier and forget the whole stupid conversation in strong, and maybe he’d have been better off doing that in the first place, but he doesn’t surrender to it.

“Well, you’re one of the smartest people I know, so these moments where you decide to be an absolute idiot happen to be hilarious,” Jaskier teases. The bard must take pity, because his palm slides to cradle Geralt’s jaw, and Jaskier puts himself right at eye level where the witcher can’t look away. “Don’t you realize? I fell in love with someone, and I chose to stick around. It happened ages ago.”

Geralt has long since given up on trying to anticipate what Jaskier will say to any given prompt, but that is… somehow not even on the same continent as anything he might have expected. “What?”

“You really are determined to make this as difficult and stressful for me as possible, aren’t you?” Jaskier asks. There’s a tightness around his eyes when he looks at Geralt, leaving the witcher with the awful realization that Jaskier must be flying as blind as he is. He’s probably as unsure of Geralt’s intent as Geralt is of his. And yet… “I chose you, you ridiculous man. I always choose you.”

That… that explains a lot, actually. Geralt swallows thickly as Jaskier’s nose bumps against his. “Why didn’t you ever say?”

“Ah yes. ‘Hello my very dear emotionally… hampered witcher who will sometimes, on a very good day, admit that we are friends. Would it it complicate things overly much if I also happened to be completely, utterly in love with you?’” Jaskier huffs out a helpless, almost panicky sort of laugh. “Tell me Geralt, is there any time in the last few years where that would have gone well?”

Years? Now, confronted with the full force of it, Geralt isn’t sure how he even missed it last night, let alone for so long. Now that he knows it’s always been a bit painfully obvious. And much as he’d like to, he can’t really argue against Jaskier’s point that it probably wouldn’t have gone well to say so. “What changed?”

Jaskier sighs in that dramatic, overdone way he tends to when he’s being asked what he thinks is an exceedingly silly question. “You did.”

“Hmm.” Geralt doesn’t comment and Jaskier doesn’t press for further conversation. It’s peaceful, this thing blossoming between them, now that his most immediate concerns have been silenced.

That Jaskier laid his heart on the line and asked for nothing back isn’t lost on Geralt though. The words catch and stick on his throat, so Geralt writes them into the tender way he traces the curve of Jaskier’s spine with his fingertips. He presses them against Jaskier’s lips, jaw, throat with lazy, lingering kisses.

“So tell me-” Jaskier starts, the words interrupted by a soft sigh as Geralt’s thumb skims the divot of his hip. It’s an unmistakably promising sound all by itself, even ignoring that delightful way Jaskier presses into the touch. He finishes his thought, but it’s unmistakably breathless. “What are you thinking now?”

The recognition that this isn’t some fluke settles warmly around him. This could be always. There are so few things a witcher really keeps, but for now he’s willing to entertain the notion that this might be one of them.

“I’m thinking…” Geralt mumbles against the side of Jaskier’s neck, delighting in the way the bard’s fingers tangle in his hair and tug. “That maybe we’ll leave tomorrow.”

#geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #gerlion #the witcher #my fic #They're both dumb and I love them #They may not have been remotely related to what I meant to write this month #But hey I posted stuff three days in a row and it's not even Nano month yet

1K notes · View notes

bangtann-bangdamn · 3 years

Text

Lightning: Part 2

Warnings: Unhappy relationship mentioned, but other than that you should be good to go.

Word Count: 4165

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

AN: I originally wrote Lighting in June 2019. It’s March 2021. Also, I feel like my writing style has changed slightly. If it has - whoops. My bad.

< Part 1

Master list

“Can you get me another beer?” Mark called from the living room.

“Why don’t you get off your ass and go get it yourself?” You yelled back, rolling your eyes as you plunged the plate you were washing back beneath the water. It wasn’t like he was doing anything important.

“I’m in the middle of a – die you motherfucker!”

You grit your teeth, holding back your retort. As much as you enjoyed Mark’s company, there were days where everything he did, everything he said, frustrated you. Okay, maybe not days. Lately, it has been all the time.

Sure, he was sweet and affectionate when he wanted to be, but ever since you agreed to move in with him a few weeks ago, you felt less like his partner and more like his mother.

‘For all his faults, Yoongi wouldn’t have done this,’ you found yourself thinking. Immediately, you felt guilty. Yoongi was your past. He had broken up with you. He had made that decision, and you had grown to accept it.

But he also said he missed you. And, no matter how hard you tried to deny it, a small part of you missed him too.

Over and over your encounter with Yoongi replayed in your head. It felt like fate seeing him that day. With the storm raging outside, you had stayed longer than you normally would. All those feelings you thought were gone suddenly resurfaced. You forgot all about the way he would ignore you when he worked, or how he never answered his phone. You forgot all the nights where his side of the bed remained empty. All you could think about was the time you had spent together. Never did he make you feel so small, so insignificant in his life.

The plate you were scrubbing shattered in your hand. You screamed in frustration as blood began to trickle from your palm. You sighed as you picked up the shards from the washing-up bowl, throwing them in the bin with more force than necessary before grabbing a towel from the side and putting pressure onto the cut. You were trying not to cry but tears still found its way down your cheeks.

Mark made no effort to call out and check to see if you were okay. He yelled in frustration as he continued to play whatever game he was currently obsessed with, continuing on as if nothing had happened. Most likely, he hadn’t heard your scream.

It was a sign from the universe, seeing Yoongi that day. A sign that you had made a mistake.

Mark had asked you to move in and you stupidly thought that seeing Yoongi was a sign for you to say yes. But now you knew. You knew that your heart wasn’t in it. Perhaps it never was.

Mark walked into the kitchen. “Fine, I’ll get the beer myself,” he scoffed, barely noting the red tainted towel wrapped around your hand.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You closed your eyes as you held your breath.

“Sorry, I won’t ask you to get me one in the future.” Mark walked out of the kitchen without a second glance.

You followed him. “No, you don’t get it. I’m done.”

Mark sat down on the sofa. “Okay,” he said as he picked up the controller and resumed his game.

You stared at the back of his head as he took a sip of his beer, waiting for him to ask you. But you knew it was futile. Mark would assume you were joking and would give you a few hours to calm down before he would talk to you. Then he would brush away any concern you had with a laugh and tell you you were overreacting again.

You shook your head, deciding that you didn’t want to have this fight. You didn’t want to be told that you were crazy, your feelings unjustified. You didn’t want to feel tired anymore.

You inspected the cut on your hand, quickly determining that it was not deep enough to require stitches. You grabbed the first aid kit from beneath the sink and quickly set to bandaging your hand before walking back into your bedroom. You grabbed your suitcase from under the bed and began packing your things.

Déjà vu hit you like a freight train. But, unlike with Yoongi, you found that your tears had stopped the moment you had decided to leave. It was a relief not to deal with Mark anymore, as bad as you knew that sounded. But ever since you ran into Yoongi all those weeks ago, things had changed. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but compare Mark to Yoongi. How Mark didn’t know you as well as Yoongi had, or how he couldn’t make you smile as easily as Yoongi had.

Seeing him again reminded you of how hard it was to leave. How much you missed him, despite everything.

And when it came to Yoongi, Mark never really stood a chance. It sounded horrible to admit, but Mark was only ever a distraction. A reason for you to stop thinking about Yoongi.

You rolled your suitcase out of the bedroom and down the hall. At the sound of the wheels rolling across the wooden floor, Mark paused his game to look at you.

“Where are you going?” he asked, looking between the suitcase and you.

For this, he paused his game, you couldn’t help but think.

“I told you, I’m done.”

By the time you sat down on the bus, you were sweating slightly. It was a little from the humidity that still clung to the early evening air that had made the walk almost impossible. But mostly it was because of the panic that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

What if you had made an impulsive decision? What if Mark was the one and you just left him?

You were leaving him on what your heart wanted: Yoongi. But now that your mind had a chance to catch up, it screamed at you. Yoongi might have moved on, or he might not have changed. Sure Mark wasn’t the easiest to get along with, but he was there. He came to bed every evening. He ate dinner with you every evening. He replied to texts an-

Your phone started ringing. Mark. You stared down at the screen for a moment, wondering what he could possibly have to say to you before you declined the call. Almost immediately, Mark called again. So you switched it off.

It took you almost an hour to get to Hwasa’s house. You could feel your nose burning with unshed tears as you knocked on her door. She answered the door on your fourth knock. She had her phone wedged between her ear and shoulder, accessing you before she spoke.

“Haven’t seen her, Mark,” she said, nodding her head at you to follow. She moved back into the house as you let yourself in, closing the door behind you. You left your suitcase at the bottom of the stairs as you kicked off your shoes and followed Hwasa into the living room. She was sprawled out on the sofa rolling her eyes at whatever Mark was saying on the other end of the phone. You took a seat on the armchair beside her.

“I’m telling you, Mark, I don’t know where she is. Now if you excuse me, my pizza is here.” She hung up, rolling her eyes. “You broke up with Mark?” She raised her brow at you as she tossed her phone down beside her.

“Yeah?” You played with your hands in your lap, avoiding Hwasa’s gaze.

“About time,” Hwasa muttered, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning the TV on.

“Wait, I thought you liked Mark?”

“I do. But anyone with eyes could see that you weren’t happy.”

You frowned. “I thought I was happy.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t say anything.” Hwasa leant forward, placing her hand on your knee. “It’s the duty of a best friend to know when to say something. And when to bite her tongue. I knew you were unhappy, but I also knew you were heartbroken. You needed to date Mark to heal, to get over Yoongi.”

“Oh.” You tucked your feet beneath you as you turned your attention to the TV. The news was playing, detailing some study a university was doing into attraction.

“Oh? Oh god, don’t tell me that you broke up with Mark to go back to Yoongi?”

“Not exactly...”

“Are you stupid? He broke you. Or did you conveniently forget the month and a half you spent locked up in here barely eating and crying your eyes out because he didn’t even call? Even Mark called.”

“Yoongi works differently, you know that. He won’t tell you how he feels, he’ll-”

“Write you a song. I remember your anniversary present.”

You smiled at the thought. For your first anniversary, Yoongi made you a CD. He wouldn’t tell you what songs he had put on there, but when you had listened you knew. He had asked a friend to sing the chorus, whilst he had rapped the verses. There was something about the way he rapped, so confident and quick in his deep voice, that had you downloading it onto your phone and listening to it whenever you could.

“I miss him,” you admitted softly.

“I know. But does he miss you? He might say he does, but…” She left her words hanging in the air.

As much as you hated to admit it, you knew she was right. Yoongi made his feelings known through music. If he wanted you, there would be a song.

And in the year since you left, there was none. It was hard to argue against the concrete facts.

So why did it feel like you had just broken up all over again?

Yoongi was nervous. Well, maybe nervous wasn’t the right word.

Terrified. He was terrified.

After writing his song, he had asked Namjoon for his opinion. Namjoon had been lost for words – literally and metaphorically. He had thought the song was perfect, yet Yoongi felt like something was missing. Only, no matter how many times he listened to the song, he couldn’t put a finger on what it was. He had managed to persuade his company to give him a few extra weeks to work on it, to make it perfect. But no matter how many times he tinkered with it; the song just didn’t seem right.

He shook his head to clear his mind. It was a little too late for that now. In the end, he had to hand it over; he had wasted enough time. Now, nearly three months after he had written it, he sat in the green room of the radio station.

“Yoongi, are you ready?” The producer beckoned him to follow.

Yoongi nodded, rising to his feet slowly.

It wasn’t his first radio interview, nor would it be his last. But it was the first time a radio station was debuting one of his songs live on air.

You might be listening to this. You might hear this song. You might hear him.

He wasn’t sure if the idea of you hearing his song made him want to jump off a cliff or jump for joy. All he knew for certain was that he was out of time.

Every day since you left, Mark had made the point of visiting you at work.

“I can’t talk to you right now.” You continued to fill the dishwasher, not bothering to look back at Mark as you spoke. “What part of ‘I’m at work’ do you not understand?”

“You won’t answer my calls.”

You placed the last cup in the dishwasher. “We broke up. I don’t need to answer your calls.” You closed the dishwasher, grabbing a cloth and began wiping down the counters. The counters didn’t need to be wiped down - Hwasa had taken care of them just before Mark had walked in. But Mark didn’t know that. And you were determined to do anything to make it look like you were busy.

“No. You decided that we had to break up and haven’t listened to a word I’ve tried to say.”

You grit your teeth as you continued to wipe down the counter. You were pretty sure you gave him several reasons why you didn’t want to be with him anymore – namely that he treated you like some glorified slave.

“You’re still here?” Hwasa raised her brow at you as she walked back behind the counter and pointedly stared at Mark. “Can you seriously not take a hint?”

“This is none of your business, Hwasa.”

“You are scaring off my customers, which makes it my business. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want to be with you, so why don’t you listen to her for once and fuck off.”

Mark stared at Hwasa, eyes boring into her intensely. Then, without another word, he left. The sound of the bell ringing filled the shop, only the murmur of the radio and the few patrons who weren’t scared off by Mark left to fill the silence.

“I have changed my mind about him. He’s a dick.” Hwasa shook her head as she watched Mark storm away from the shop.

“Finally.” You rolled your eyes dramatically with a giggle.

“How can a bloke come across so nice and then be an absolute twat?”

“Maybe you should ask Mark.” You leant against the counter, watching as Hwasa walked over to the radio.

“If I ever have to talk to that child again, it will be too soon.” She played with the dial as she searched for a station. Hwasa moved through the stations quickly, only waiting long enough to hear what music was playing before skipping to the next. You turned to clean the counter, mind already tuning out the sound until-

“Now, Yoongi-” a voice crooned out before Hwasa was onto the next station.

You dropped the rag you were using and turned to Hwasa. “Wait, go back!”

Hwasa looked at you for a second, contemplating your words, before reluctantly dialling the station backwards.

“It’s an impressive feat, I must say. To write about such heartbreak with such love,” the female radio presenter was saying.

“I don’t know if I would describe it as love,” The male presenter said with a chuckle. “Isn’t the whole point of the song to tell this girl that the last time you saw her was your lightning strike, your realisation that it was over. That you weren’t in love with her?”

“Not at all. Seeing her again… It’s like we were never apart. Lightning coursed through my body and told me that I made a mistake. Truly, I did. I thought I was doing her a favour, breaking it off. I thought I was holding her back. That she was holding me back… But she made me better.”

“Wow, Yoongi. That’s quite the sentiment. What would you say if she was here, right now?” The female presenter asked.

“I… I would probably tell her how stupid I am. But none of that matters now. She’s moved on. I can’t go back to the past and change things. I just have to move on.”

Hwasa placed a hand on your arm, jolting you back to reality. You stared at her blankly as Yoongi and the two presenters continued to talk on the radio behind you. You couldn’t take in a word they were saying, only what he had said.

He publicly admitted he was - had - dated someone. Live on air. Either he had just admitted something he shouldn’t have and thus would be in massive trouble with the company or...

She’s moved on.

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

“Hey.” Hwasa tapped your arm, mouth open as if to continue her sentence but quickly closed when the radio presenter suddenly announced over the opening chords-

“And now, the song that we know will be at the top of the charts in no time, Lightning by Min Yoongi.”

The opening chords were slow; sweetly interlocked together on the piano. Yoongi’s deep sultry voice began to lazily rap. Slowly it built until a loud clap of thunder and silence filled the room for a beat, Yoongi’s breath consuming the airwaves. Then the music kicked back in; faster and more urgent than before and Yoongi’s rapping about you.

You.

His panic over watching you leave.

His pain at not calling you, not telling you he didn’t want you to leave.

And his love.

For you.

By the time the song ends, and the presenters were speaking and thanking Yoongi for his time, you had tears in your eyes.

Hwasa pulled you into a hug, murmuring, ‘I know’ as she rubbed your back.

Because there it was, clear as day. Yoongi had wanted you; he just couldn’t find the words. But now he was prepared to let you go, let a better man have you.

Except there was no better man.

You only wanted Yoongi.

Yoongi all but collapsed as he sat down in the car. He didn’t know how to feel anymore. He just felt empty.

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he had dreamt of you calling him after the song played. Of seeing your face flash once more on his phone screen; hearing your voice as you told him what you loved about the song.

But his phone remained quiet in his pocket.

Namjoon had warned him of this. Of letting himself hope.

After he played the song for Namjoon, after the initial excitement had waned, Namjoon had turned to Yoongi with a sombre expression.

“Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon said softly as he placed a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re really ready to let her go?”

“Of course.”

Namjoon frowned. “Are you sure about that?”

“Namjoon, what are you trying to say? Just say it already.”

“I don’t think you’re as ready to let her go as you think you are.” He leant back in his seat. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Yoongi had promised him that he expected nothing from you, but clearly, he had been lying.

By the time the car returned him to the dorm, Yoongi had schooled his features to remain stoic. He knew he needed to hide his disappointment from the rest of his group, especially as he had overheard Jimin’s plans to surprise him upon his return. He didn’t feel like celebrating, but he also didn’t want to explain why he had a sudden desire to retreat to his bed and not come out for a few days.

He opened the door slowly, expecting Taehyung or Jungkook to blast him with confetti the moment he stepped through the door.

He was met with silence.

“Hello?” Yoongi called out as he took off his shoes. He was shrugging off his jacket when you appeared from the door.

“Hi.”

Yoongi froze, one arm still in his jacket. “What are you doing here?” He continued taking his jacket off, more to avoid your gaze than anything else.

“I heard you on the radio.” You tentatively stepped towards him. “It was beautiful, Yoongi.”

He heard the crack in your voice as you said his name. He wanted to tell you he didn’t mean it; he still loved you. Always had, always would. But, just like that god awful night, the words wouldn’t come to him. He stood in the entry of the dorm, unable to look at you; unable to say a word and it hit him. He was doing it again.

You laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know why I came. I just wanted to tell you that.” You made to grab your shoes, but Yoongi stepped in front of you.

“What did Mark think?”

“Mark?”

“Yeah.”

“I... don’t know…” you admitted softly. Yoongi stepped to the side, allowing you to grab your shoes.

He still refused to look at you, so you took the moment to observe his profile, noting the sharp, tense line of his jaw.

“You probably shouldn’t come here again.” Yoongi finally looked at you, searching your face for something. Anything that could help him finally get over you. “I doubt Mark would appreciate you turning up at your ex’s.” Yoongi stepped further into the dorm, all but telling you that he was done with the conversation.

It wasn’t what he wanted to say. It was a reminder to himself that you were taken. That he couldn’t just lean down and capture your lips like he so desperately wanted. So he needed to remove himself from your presence.

“We broke up.”

Yoongi stopped walking, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“Mark and I… I left him.” You took a shaky breath to settle your nerves. You hadn’t planned on him. Then again, you had never planned to leave him in the first place. You closed your eyes and turned towards the door. “I’m sorry for bothering you.” You opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

Yoongi was frozen as his mind raced to comprehend your words.

We broke up… I left him…

It couldn’t be a coincidence. Turning up after hearing his song, after hearing him tell the world he was still in love with you. And that he was ready to move on.

The click of the door closing brought him back to the present. He hurried to follow you.

You were halfway down the hall.

“I didn’t mean it.” He called after you. “I’m not ready to move on. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.” He slowly made his way towards you. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said we should go on a break in the first place. I was just feeling… inadequate. Like you didn’t need me around.” He stopped a little bit behind you and swallowed down his fear. You needed to hear this. “When I told you the agency wouldn’t let you come on tour with us and you didn’t react, I felt like I didn’t matter to you as much as you mean to me. Because I fought for you to come on tour for… I don’t even know how long. Then I come home to break the news to you and… nothing. I thought you were going to leave me so I thought taking a break would help but…” Yoongi took a deep breath. “I have never regretted something as much as that night.”

You blinked away the tears that were forming. “Do you want to know why I didn’t react, Yoongi?” You turned to face him. “Because I was used to it. Used to coming home to an empty apartment, waking up to an empty bed. Spending weeks alone because you had some project going on that you had to work on. It was going to be hard, but I was used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Yoongi shook his head. “Shit, I hadn’t…”

“Considered that?” You nodded slowly.

“Yeah. I thought about calling you every single day.”

“Why didn’t you?” You stepped forward once more. “Why didn’t you call me, Yoongi?” A tear slipped down your cheek.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted softly.

“I didn’t need to hear you say anything, Yoongi. I just needed to know you cared.” Your phone chimed in your pocket. You stepped away from Yoongi. “I should go.”

You turned, but Yoongi caught your hand. “I can’t watch you walk away from me again.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care. “I love you. Always have, always will. If you don’t feel the same way… If after everything that’s happened is too much or… or you don’t…” He closed his eyes. “Then I’ll learn to love you less. It’ll take time, but I’d try.”

“You could have said that.”

“What?”

You smiled, lacing your fingers with him. “That you love me. That would have been enough.” You leant up and placed a kiss on his lips. He relaxed in your embrace, leaning his forehead against yours when you pulled away.

“Then let me say it loud and clear.” He pulled away from you slightly and kissed your forehead. “I.” Then your cheek. “Love.” Then the other. “you.” Finally, he kissed you with some force pulling your body up against his as he deepened the embrace. You wove your fingers through his hair as you lost yourself in him, in the familiarity of it all.

Despite the time you had lost, the time you had spent apart, the feeling that flooded your body was like coming home. It was sharp and sparked through your body like lightning lighting up the night sky and you knew, in that moment, there was truly no other man in the world who could make you feel like this.

#bts #min yoongi #suga #yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts writing #bts reaction #bts imagines #bts requests

56 notes · View notes

peaches-writes · 3 years

Text

anything for you

member: chan wc: 1.2k genre: fluff, angst (?), confession au, best friends to lovers au (kinda nani & david from lilo & stitch-inspired if u ask me) warning: explicit language note: chan, in the words of @wingkkun , “patient, respectful, and supportive pining fool who cares for your loved ones?????????”

You clear your throat awkwardly, scratching the back of your head after. “This is—t-this is awkward...” You frown up at your best friend who only purses his lips in a dimpled smile and shakes his head reassuringly at you. “Chan...”

Still, he insists otherwise despite the small hints of disappointment in his eyes. “No, it’s not. It’s cool, I—I understand.” He nods, his gaze only lighting up once again when he sees your younger brother, Felix, pass by the two of you on the front of porch with his backpack slung over his shoulder and his new demon puppy in his arms, shouting a quick ‘I’ll get going now!’ before hurrying down the steps to catch his school bus. “You have—you have a lot on your plate right now, with taking care of Lix and social services and that—that puppy he brought home the other day—it’s totally okay if you—“

“But I like you!” You impulsively blurt out before he could ramble further, effectively catching your former co-worker off-guard. Once you realize what you’ve just said, you instinctively take a step back, back accidentally hitting the doorknob behind you. “Ow, shit! A-Anyway, I, uh—I-I like you, like more than as a friend too...but, you know—“

Chan only furrows his eyebrows, more in relief than confusion. “Really?” He asks carefully, quickly masking his hope with the best nonchalant face he could muster as he only thinks that he shouldn’t be looking too happy. You’re stuck in a complicated home situation, after all. “I-I mean, um—what?”

“I like you too...” You repeat slower this time until you’re completely sure that you really do want him to hear it from you now. “I still—I still can’t date you o-or act on it or anything because of Felix and my job but...I just want you to know, just in case s-something happens—or something...”

You bite down your lip in embarrassment. In case something happens? Really, Y/N? You slap yourself internally, almost missing the way a cheesy smile makes its way on Chan’s features as he looks away to hide the blush on his face.

“N-Nothing’s going to happen, not the kind you’d think of anyway.” He mumbles under his breath, just loud enough to get it across to you even with his head sheepishly turned elsewhere. “I-I’d wait for you f-forever in any situation if I have to, you know, especially now that I know you feel the same.”

Your eyes widen, even more when he finally regains the courage to gaze back at you again. This time, he holds an even fonder smile for you. “H-Huh?”

“I’ll wait for you.” He repeats in the same conviction you used a while ago to tell him you like him too. “I’ll—I’ll wait for you until you and Lix get back on your feet...until you land another job and convince social services that you really are capable of taking care of your brother...until everything’s sorted out. I can wait—though, knowing you and how hard you work, it probably won’t take long.”

He ends his ramble with a confident and reassuring smile, one that immediately boosts your own confidence in your difficult situation and simultaneously makes your knees weak as your heart swells at the thought. Before any more words could even be spoken, you quickly walk forward to Chan again, throwing your hands around his waist to hug him this time. “Thank you.” You mumble into his chest, almost toppling the two of you over when he doesn’t respond as well to your force. “For everything.”

Chan hugs you back instinctively, rubbing your back comfortingly as he rests his cheek on your crown. “Everything’s going to be okay, you’ll be okay.” He assures before hugging you tighter. “And when it’s all good, don’t feel pressured to come back to me, yeah? Take your time, do whatever you want, my feelings aren’t going anywhere and I can change them for you if you think differently then.”

You want to scoff at him towards the end and scold him that your feelings won’t change either, even if it takes you months or a whole year to get back on your feet. Instead, you only tiptoe to press a light kiss on his cheek. “The last part won’t be necessary.” You assure instead, cracking a smile at Chan’s surprised expression. “With everything you’ve done for me and Lix even before this, why would my feelings change in the future? I’ll sort this out quickly, I promise.”

Chan only nods again, gently carding his hands through your hair before hugging you again. “If you need anything, just ask. I’m always here for you—best friend, suitor, and whatnot.”

“I know.” You sigh.

Before you could properly ask him for help after, however, he’s already showing up on your front porch bright and early again the following morning, car keys in hand and a bundle of newspapers in the other.

“Chan, you brought your car today?!” Your younger brother exclaims, running past the older boy to admire his car. Jumping up and down to view the windows with his small height, he then asks, “Are you taking me to school today?”

“Yep, if that’s cool with you!” Chan answers happily, patting the little boy’s head before turning to you. “And if it’s cool with Y/N too since we’re going out today.”

Yours and Felix’s eyes widen at the same time and you ask, “We’re going out?”

Little Felix also gasps. “You and Y/N are finally dating?!”

You glare at your younger brother before glancing up at Chan just as he holds the newspaper higher up to your eye-level and answers, “I found you a couple of places this morning so I thought we could check them out.”

Your surprise quickly turns into delight, even more when Chan instinctively picks Felix up from the ground and starts teasing him about where he got the word ‘dating’ from. “Thanks, Chan...” You trail off, momentarily regaining his attention as he sends you a smile. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know but I want to, anything for you.” He counters affectionately, passing you the newspapers before Felix could start pestering him about sitting on the front passenger seat. “I double-checked everything I encircled based on your convenience so just tell me where you want to start after we drop Lix off—or if you find something else you like just tell me too.”

You smile up at him from the newspapers and he only responds with a wink and a pat to your head before turning his attention back to Felix.

“Can I go job-hunting with you two instead? So we can bring Stitch too?” Felix pleads as he’s settled in the front passenger seat. “He might get lonely staying in the whole day since our teacher kinda...banned him from school yesterday...”

“That puppy’s not going anywhere outside today, bud, sorry.” “That puppy’s not going anywhere outside.” You and Chan respond respectively, the two of you laughing afterwards to a huffing Felix who only crosses his arms bitterly.

“Fine, have fun on your date, then.” Felix mumbles instead and you hit him on his elbow before closing the door. “Hey!”

You glance up at Chan after who only chuckles sheepishly. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Me neither.” Your best friend only teases, opening the backseat door for you. “Come on, Felix’s gonna be late for school and you’ll miss Mrs. Hong at the wet market.”

m.list

157 notes · View notes

mintseesaw · 4 years

Text

kapag lasing malambing | myg

translation. (you’re) only sweet when (you’re) drunk

chorus. verse i. verse ii.

pairing: indie musician!yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, light angst, light smut, est. relationship au

word count: 1.7k

warnings: cursing, hints of arousal, yoongi being touchy and straightforward af, light dry humping, yoongi ft. his fingers // rating: 18+

note: hello!! This is my first entry on the Paraluman Project a.k.a. Tagalog-titled drabbles/fics. You may also submit requests for the drabble game: Paraluman Playlist until the end of August. ✨

pending drabble requests will be posted in the coming days huehiehue. Enjoy!

Few bottles in and Yoongi started whining a bit more than usual. In fact, he’s never one to ask for your attention in sobriety. Nevertheless, he is needy but would rather save his pride than admit it without the alcohol clouding his state of mind.

You’re always the one between the two of you who initiates any form of skinship. And most of the attempts you did in public, your success rate— had unfortunately dramatically slumped at 0 in a scale of 1-10.

However, when the situation permits him no other means but to set his so-called reputation aside, Yoongi would willingly participate on displaying his tender feelings in public. One of those rare moments was on your first year anniversary. He had no choice but to pull off a move to make up for the damage he had unintentionally inflicted on you when he almost didn’t show up to the restaurant you personally reserved for dinner.

He never once called you that day, his phone was strangely out of reach and the lack of interaction led you to believe he was gonna surprise you for he would never not return your call nor would turn his phone off without giving you a heads up.

He came, which was three hours too late for you to remain delighted for the occasion. When you stood up from your chair, swallowed the tears that were threatening to spill out, you didn’t beat around the bush and impulsively told him, “We’re done.” before walking passed him even though you didn’t mean it at all. You were just so hurt that night that it was the only thing you have managed to say.

Shocked by the abruptness of your decision, Yoongi ran after you and kept you secured in his hold, cupped your face with his palms and pulled you in a sweet kiss. Perhaps it was the first time he ever did more than just a peck on your forehead with an actual audience gawking at the two of you. He didn’t care nor stop murmuring apologies while he peppered tiny kisses all over your face until you stopped crying.

Turns out, he did have a surprise for you. It was the keys on his palm he fished out from his pocket that he forgot in his apartment on his way there. Apparently, he drove back to his then-apartment to collect his surprise and got stuck in the Metro traffic. Keys of a new apartment that you two now share for the past two years now.

Another time was that new year’s eve party some months ago when he had already chugged down alcohol passed his limit. You lost track of how frequently he had planted pecks on your shoulders and even refused to let go of your hand as if you were being held hostage in his captive. He was just so touchy, at the same time, extremely attentive of you.

It’s not everyday that you are showered with his oddly affectionate treatment so when these rare instances ever occur, you let him spoil you with his generously sweet attention.

Yoongi is naturally caring without him even trying it. And at times, he may show it through his rough facade or fatherly scolding. He shows his affection in a different language, that you once mistaken as some sort of coldness or indifference. Yet, no matter how inwardly warmhearted he is when it concerns you, he would never initiate nor let you advance to the first base in public. Of course, your guy has a reputation to keep. You don’t even understand why his cold exterior, seemingly rude around the edges attracts more women than you deem amusing to witness first hand.

Tonight, you’ll surely entertain yourself while he unravels a thick cover of his facade just from the looks of his glassy eyes and red face. He’s way beyond the tipsy state which only means one thing. Either he’d be extra sweet or needy.

To prove one of your assumptions, you suddenly heard his provocative voice, snapping you out of your reverie. “Baby, come here.” He slurs, his drunkenness more profound with the radiating crimson tinging his dumpling cheeks.

Your eyes roll before scooting closer until your sides are flushed against each other. Both of you are sitting on the floor across the table with your backs leaning against the foot of the couch. Yoongi drapes his arm over your shoulder, then leans on your side to nuzzle your cheek with the tip of his nose while his palm idly scurries on the expanse of your thigh.

You caught his wrist, stopping whatever intention his hazy mind has. Groaning, Yoongi buried his face on the crook of your neck, yet refusing to utter a word.

“Yoongi,” You hiss, retreating back to create some safe distance before he kindles something that should not be stirred awake while you’re here at Jin’s place. His friends are pretty much wasted so the close proximity and his extra provocative hands do not really bother you, except for the fact that your body quickly reacts to his feverish touches.

“Fuck! Let’s go home.” He proposes.

You chuckle, “You’re so drunk, babe.” You say, pinching his beet-red cheeks.

“So drunk, I wouldn’t mind fucking you here in—“ Your eyes widened suddenly hearing such vulgar words coming from him. Your palm met his mouth in a smack.

“Shut up!”

To your dismay, your boyfriend obnoxiously smirks, pulling your other wrist and placing it, out of the blue, on top of his semi-aroused crotch. You lightly jump taken aback and quickly collected your hand back when you felt his clothed cock twitches the second your palm comes in contact with it.

“See what you do to me, baby?” He purrs, sniffing your hair.

Instinctively, your eyes briskly scan the room to see if anyone caught what your boyfriend did. It only took one glance at Jin who is clearly amused at the two of you before your face profusely heated up in embarrassment.

Unlike everyone else in the living room, he seems to be the only man standing aside from you and your boyfriend who can hardly recognize his own name. Jungkook is literally sprawled, face flat on the floor. Hoseok is snoring on the single seater couch on you right. You could hear a faint sound of puking from somewhere, wild guessing it was Taehyung and Namjoon must be helping him out in the bathroom. Jimin and his girlfriend are nowhere in sight.

Jin teasingly winked in your direction before he stood up and disappeared from one of the doorways. Maybe in his room.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend seems to be unbothered, and proceeds to bite the shell of your ear sensually. You try to push him away for the second time of the night. If he continues this tempting advances, it won't be too long before you give in to his bidding.

You sneered, “Your friends are here.”

“We can use the bathroom or something.” He murmurs suggestively.

“No thanks!” You answered back too quickly, somehow taunting him in vengeance of the countless kisses he had turned down from you in the past.

“Babe, come on.” Whines Yoongi as he hovers your mouth with his fingers holding your jaw to his advantage.

“Not here.” You prompted.

“I don’t think I can still drive.”

“I will drive—shit!”

Yoongi pulled your tube top down, exposing one of your mounds.

“No one’s awake.” He reassures, smirking down at the delicious view served in front of him. You shot him a glare, ignoring the surge of heat washing through you.

While you’re busy pulling your top back, Yoongi’s arm curls over your back on your waist, hurling you on his lap facing him without a single inch of difficulty. Your denim skirt bunches up on your hips as your thighs parted.

“Yoongi, what are you doing?!” You exclaimed, while shooting peers sideways to make sure no one can see you two in a compromising position.

Yoongi paid no heed to your panicky voice, baring your mounds once more all the while wrestling with your arms when they tried to cover your beautiful breasts from his ardent stare. He shifted you further close so that your center directly presses against his prominent bulge.

Your lips parted in a soundless gasp, sparking your senses alive and Yoongi used your momentary shock to capture a peak with his mouth. The palms digging on your hips coaxing you to move against him.

Your eyes fall shut, “Fuck Yoongi! I said not here!”

“Should I stop then?” He teases.

No! Your corrupt mind objects.

The friction down your soaking mess of an aching core against his crotch eliciting tiny yet unmistakable whimpers from your agape mouth, head thrown back when pleasure immediately starts to build up in your core.

“Yes, baby. Just like that. You will be good and come for me, right love?” He purrs next to your ear. The hoarseness of his natural voice and the low register of his tone made possible by his alcohol-filled system increasing the heat in your body.

“Yoongi, please…” You wail breathlessly, needing more stimulation to give what he wants.

In the midst of your supposed blissful momentum, you have failed to sense the nearing sound of footsteps in the living. It was only when Yoongi cursed under his breath, and shoved you flushed against his chest that you snapped out of it, while the sparks ebb away into actual nerves. He hurriedly shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, draping it over your back to cover your nakedness due to your top slipping down to your waist.

With your face buried on the curve of his neck, you panted heavily as your ears perked up at the sound of his friends approaching the room. He kisses the side of your head, and right away rubs your back to soothe your nerves.

“Hyung, Tae and I are lea—oh! Is she alright?” You heard Namjoon ask, probably surprised at the sight of you resting on Yoongi’s body.

“Yeah, she just fell asleep is all. Go on, the kid looks like he’s about to pass out any second.” Yoongi says coolly.

“Sweet. We’re gonna head out, lovebirds.”

As soon as you heard the sound of the door closing, Yoongi’s hand snaked in between your bodies, pushed your lace to the side and started thrumming your clit. Your arms instinctively went around his neck for leverage, helplessly sobbing against his sweat covered skin.

For the next few minutes, your muffled delightful cries took over Yoongi’s senses while his fingers worked their magic on your center, and to the muscles of your drenched hole, skillfully driving you to oblivion.

At least, he’s sweet enough to let you come despite the situation you two are in, with his pretty wasted friends who could’ve heard your scandalous moans should they have not been sleeping the entire time.

#yoongi x reader #bayanihanboost #paralumanproject #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff

142 notes · View notes

suknas · 3 years

Text

First Line Tag Game II

Tagged by @ruluxe (who dared to say that I have fanfics that I'm "holdin out on us" -- it is true tho lol)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

Tagging: Everyone who wants to do this! (I'm not sure which authors are still active here ;-;)

Now we all know how inconsistent I am. But I do like starting with what's going on with the characters/where they are... Don't I? Well I decided to start with the most recent published ones, descending to the first ones published (skipping some), and finally some of my WIP/"One day I will finish" fanfics.

Quick fun fact: I didn't remember writing most of those fanfics lol

So here we go!!!! (it's gonna be a bumpy ride)

1. Into the Storm [GrimmIchi]: The lightning and thundering's brightness and strong noises were slicing the dark-blue sky of a lonely and sleepless night. A storm was coming. The heavy rain and gusts of wind were not the only thing rapidly creeping through the night. Kurosaki Ichigo could sense something else approaching along with the dark clouds and the pouring rain that now was hitting his window. [2021 (but the draft was from 2017 maybe), Bleach]

2. Ascension [AoKaga]: Light appeared in the darkness and soon darkness became insignificant before the beauty and immensity of the bright light surrounding a tall and masculine figure. He walked calmly through the uncertain route that many others once also stepped into it. He had a goal. The time to seek the one whom he had once shared many memories with, good and bad. The one person whom he had loved immensely but had never gotten to experience that feeling truly and at its fullest. The time had finally come. [2021 (again the draft was probably from 2016), Kuroko no Basket]

3. The One Where Prompto Does Not Want To Be In The Middle [Gladios x Prompto x Noctis x Ignis]: Sleeping in the camping tent was always a challenge in Prompto’s opinion. It is not as if he does not like camping, it was pretty nice being able to sit under the stars and gaze them, it was relaxing. Sometimes Noctis would sit behind him, embracing him in a warm hug. They would spend a long time chatting and exchanging affectionate touches until both of them felt like sleeping. Other times Gladio would join him, and the shield would let the blond lay his head on his lap. More often than not Prompto ended up sleeping while feeling his hair being played by dexterous and caring fingers. And whenever Ignis had time to spare, he would also join him after cleaning the mess they did during dinner. [2020 (again the draft was maybe from 2017), Final Fantasy XV]

4. The Owl Who Got Caught [KuroTsuki + Bokuto]: The third day of the training camp was finally over. Soon, everybody was running to the school cafeteria to grab something to eat. In the meantime, while nobody was looking, Kuroo took the opportunity to take Tsukishima’s hand, guiding him to the room that the Nekoma team was sharing; closing the door right after they entered. Nekoma and Karasuno’s middle blockers became closer ever since their first practice game, now they were spending more time together, and their relationship had an unexpected development. [2020 (draft probably from 2017), Haikyuu]

5. A Boyfriend Text [KuroTsuki]: Laying in his bed with a smile on the lips Kuroo was texting his sweet strawberry shortcake boyfriend. Eyes rapt, staring at the bright screen in the dark room; he was feeling anxious if his stupid smile and trembling fingers were any indicator.

TETSUROU: Wanna come over this weekend?

It had been some weeks since they had the opportunity to meet; school and volleyball practice were mostly the reason for their inevitable long separation. Week after week something "magically" came up in their agendas, but Kuroo was hopeful, however, that maybe this time their schedules would finally allow them to meet. [2020, Haikyuu]

6. Domestic Bliss [KiriBaku]: Sitting comfortably on the couch, Kirishima and Bakugou were finally spending some time together after a rough week. It was one of those rare days where both could enjoy a peaceful and uneventful afternoon. To say that both men were lazily on the couch doing absolutely nothing productive was not very accurate. Bakugou was doing something with his spear time, he was reading a book. By his focused attention on the pages, anyone could tell that he was enjoying his reading and only someone stupid would dare to bother him. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

7. Getting Together [KiriBaku]: “Let’s grab something to eat!” The blonde shouted after stretching his arms above his head. Bakugou’s red eyes fixed on the figure of Kirishima, who was sitting comfortably in bed with his back against the headboard.The redhead’s own red eyes snapped at the figure on the chair, eyeing him from head to toe; he spaced out in no second. Kirishima wanted to touch those damn nice muscled arms, which were slowly lowered down while his hands were placed on his toned thighs. Kirishima couldn’t help himself and started to imagine Bakugou’s whole body underneath him wrapping his body with those strong legs and arms. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

8. AoKaga short stories collection [AoKaga]: The atmosphere of the place was hot and heavy. However, because of that, the two teens lying down on the bed were more connected than ever. Their bare bodies were united white skin with dark skin. Their breaths were out of rhythm and their hands slid skillfully on each other’s bodies. The movements were synchronized and intense. The pleasurable moans and whispers echoed in the dark room, making the place even more delightful for both of them. [2017 - Short Story #4, Kuroko no Basket]

9. It's Picture Time! [Pomptis]: In the Regalia, Prompto and Ignis were heading to the nearest outpost from their camping spot to get some supplies for the night. The sun on the horizon was almost hiding behind the tree path by Prompto’s right side, the scenery formed by dim light and shadowy dark spots caught Prompto’s eyes.“Wow! Look at the light, it’s amazing!” the blond shouted, “Can’t we stop just for a bit?” Prompto was thrilled by the idea of adding more photos to his portfolio. [2017, Final Fantasy XV]

10. That Side of You [MiSawa]: Miyuki was laying in the bed on his back, eyes glassy, hands shaking and skin hot. The body above his was driving him to a place where it was absolute bliss and pleasure. Hips moved together, swinging with movements that were making Miyuki moans the pitcher’s name in a short and breathless tone.“Sa-wamura– Aah! Do that again,” his voice low and hoarse made the order sound weak, and his usual snarky tone was lost a long time ago in some part of his foggy mind. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

11. Runaround [Sterek]: Everything was set neatly on the kitchen table. Stiles was going to be there soon, so Derek had already prepared every single book and even snacks that they may need for their studying.It wasn't new that both of them were hanging out for studying matters. Actually, Derek had come up with the idea first, mainly because he was having some issues involving fast heartbeats and some inconvenient hard-ons whenever Stiles was around. He had a ridiculous crush on his friend. However, the smart geek boy didn't have to know about that. [2016, Teen Wolf]

12. Eavesdropping [MiSawa]: Sawamura’s suspicions must be right for his sake. Otherwise, Miyuki would make sure his so careless kouhai would pay a high price for being so noisy about Kuramochi and Ryou-senpai making out when no one was seeing. The closed and almost claustrophobic locker didn’t have enough space to move around, but he and Sawamura managed to fit in somehow. So what? They were eavesdropping, and he still couldn’t say that he was regretting this. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

13. Sterek Short Stories Collection [Sterek]: Stiles had broken up with his last boyfriend a couple of months ago. Or it was what he usually says to Scott when his best friend asks him why he isn’t over his past relationship. Because according to Scott, it’s been a year and a half since Stiles had parted ways with, at the time, his other half. And right now it was one of those times.“You should move on. I haven't seen you with no one since then. What about Danny? Last night I saw him flirting with you, and when I looked again you were nowhere to be found, but Danny was still there drinking alone. And let not forget your grumpy humor because your sex life sucks. It's getting old bro.” [2015 - Short Story #3, Teen Wolf]

14. Urge [AoKaga]: The small public bathroom stall in that bar hadn't been made for sure to accommodate two giants, dumbasses, and impulsive basketball players. Nevertheless, this fact wasn’t that important for the Too player neither to the Seirin player. Kagami was already pressing his body against Aomine’s, who was stuck between the wall and Kagami while his mouth was being devoured by the other’s tongue. Both were fighting into that kiss as if there was no tomorrow. Their hands were traveling quickly by each other’s body, and quickly they were undoing their pants’ zippers and buttons. Their shirts were all messy, as well as their hair. Their breaths were heavy, and the kisses now were directed to their necks, sucking and biting the skin exposed. Soft moans could be heard, but not loud enough to echo in the bathroom. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

15. After Dancing Lessons [AoKaga]: The music was set up, and his hips started to move, his steps were guiding him to where a dark skinned guy was sat on a chair. The dancer's eyes were fixed in front of him. The watcher's eyes sparkled with excitement when the other sat on his lap, one leg on each side of his body, and kissed his cheeks along to his lips and chin, returning the same way till his ear, biting there slightly. The dancer felt the other hands trying to take his clothes off and immediately stood up, preventing to have those hands on his body so easily. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

16. Sleep Well [ZoSan]: The night was agitated on board of the Sunny and lots of dirty dishes were pilled up on a corner of the sink. Sanji didn't have this time someone to help him to clean everything up. 'Those lazy bastards!' He frowned, 'all right! Let’s put all these things in their right place!' And with that thought, Sanji started the tiring process of doing all the dishes. On the bright side, if he was the one doing it everything would be spot on in no time. [2013, One Piece]

17. Possessive Lover [KidLaw / LawLu]: The bell indicating the change of periods rang and the students gradually began to leave one room to proceed to another. In the middle of changing classrooms, some students went to a quick trip to the bathroom, which was where that a spiky redhead boy was heading to. He had a dangerous gaze gleaming in his golden eyes; he had quite a threatening presence, and his looks did not lie about his fiery and explosive personality. Any sane person would prefer to avoid crossing paths with him or to even look the boy in the eyes. [2012, One Piece]

18. English Lesson [WIP, AoKaga]: The room was a mess. There were a lot of magazines, books, sheets, some snacks, three soda bottles, two hoodies and two pairs of sneakers all thrown on the floor. Sitting side by side, in front of the center table with notebooks and pens in hands were Kagami and Aomine. They had that idea of starting to study at each other’s places every Thursday night after their club activities. It was not like they liked to take a book, read it and think about the subject, the matter here was way bigger than just casual study. Their grades were in the red mark, which meant that they needed to rise them at least not to get scolded and taken off the basketball team. This time around Kagami was helping Aomine with his English study. The redhead was doing his best to try to explain, but he wasn’t that good at teaching those so detailed grammatical things… [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

19. High heels [WIP, KuroTsuki]: Tsukishima walked all proud on a black suit, white button-up shirt, grey tie and black stilettos in the room. Kuroo was watching his slow movements with a fierce look from the bed, where he was sat with his hands tied to the headboard by a soft cloth. Tsukishima stopped at the bed foot, looking straight at Kuroo. Ever so slowly, Tsukishima’s hands loosened the tie around his neck, the button-up shirt was having his buttons calmly undone, soon the shirt was wide open reviling Tsukishima's snow-white skin for Kuroo’s delight. [unknown year - present, Haikyuu]

20. Christmas thing / The untitled fanfic [WIP, AoKaga]: It was Christmas the snow was falling outside, many sparkle lights, so many decorations everywhere, people receiving and giving presents, eating together and singing songs. A day to celebrate and stay with family and friends. A day full of joy and happiness.At Kagami's house every single tradition was made. Kagami invited the Seirin basketball team to celebrate, but it ended up with some unexpected guests, the self-invited guests were some of Touou basketball team. And of course, Aomine Daiki was there. The redhead didn't even want to know how Aomine had found out about his little party. He'd bet that Kuroko had told something to Momoi and she kindly invited Aomine and the rest of the troupe. [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

#ruluxe #tag game #Kuroos got tagged #that was fun and I'm also embarrassed that I wrote some of these lol #aokaga #kurotsuki #grimmichi #sterek #misawa #kiribaku #zosan #lawlu #kidlaw #kuroosden #Kuroos writing again

17 notes · View notes

firebirdsdaughter · 3 years

Text

Random Writing Guess What…

… New fandom???

I’m gonna actually holding off on tagging this as Hakuoki atm bc… I dunno. I’m scared of bringing my particular brand of odd to the tag (I say, about an apparently incredibly historically accurate yet fictional dating visual novel about samurai vampires…), but… Here we are.

Look, this is Sunagawa’s fault, if the man weren’t so goddamned good at acting, I wouldn’t be here.

Or maybe I would. Who knows.

Actually, @fluttering-by, bc this is also your fault (affectionate/grateful).

~I’m trying desperately to find a replacement for the horizontal line and failing~

“You lied to me.”

The words aren’t so much angry as hurt, trembling slightly—Miki’s shoulders were taut, but more in the way of nerves, huddling into himself rather than readying for a fight. He hovered by the end of the table, one hand by his side, anxiously pulling at the hems of his sleeves absently, the other fidgeting on the hilt of his sword. He was looking more at his boots than Koudou, an odd appearance on one as tall as he was, with a katana in his sash—and yet, when he felt the doctor’s gaze on him, he looked even further down, biting his lip.

Koudou sighed deeply, straightening up from the table, setting the bottles he was had been looking through aside and wiping his hands off before turning to face the young man. “It wasn’t a lie. It is merely a process.” Miki said nothing in reply, his hands merely tensing even more, teeth sinking further into his lip. He truly was so easy to read.

In a few measured steps, the doctor came level with the young man and reached out, tucking his hand under Miki’s chin gently to tip the young man’s face back up. The very first time they had met, when he had reached out like this, Miki had jerked away with a proud glare—now the young man didn’t move back at all, allowing Koudou to lift his head up to reveal unguarded, confused, and wounded eyes beneath his bangs. The nights spent tending to the Miki’s transition into a Fury, wiping the blood from his mouth when needed had apparently won him over. He had taken miraculously well to the basic kindness, combined with honest praise for being such a successful test—where Miki had once maintained a brash and arrogant veneer, Koudou was now privy to the gaze of an insecure, innocent young man filled with desperate pleading. Underneath the spiky shell, he was such a simple soul, longing for worth and guidance—when dangled before him, he scrambled eagerly for them like an abandoned puppy.

When Koudou smiled at him with practiced warmth, that naive eagerness blossomed, waiting to be reassured. The doctor remained silent for another moment, gaze flickering over Miki’s face for a little longer. “… Have your injuries healed completely?” He didn’t need to feign the concern in the question—the young man was the most successful, responsive specimen he had ever had; losing him would be a significant setback he could not afford.

Miki hesitated for a moment, put off by the change in subject, but eventually nodded slightly, chin bumping against Koudou’s hand. The doctor gave him a quick once over just in case, slowly lowering his arm—although the young man hadn’t been one for deceit even before letting his guard down, it was best to be sure—and was satisfied with the response. There were a few remnant marks from mostly-healed wounds, but no actual damage. Good; what he needed to do today was going to be rather… Invasive, and he preferred that Miki be in full health for the procedure.

The young man’s gaze turned curious. “… Why?”

“Like I said, it’s a process.” He made certain to hold Miki’s wide-eyed gaze the entire time. “Thanks to you, I’ve already found a method of mitigating the energy consumption.”

The young man watched him with more uncertainty than he had before—but not enough for concern. “… What is it?”

The question wasn’t new, either, and he was already giving another smile of studied reassurance before the words had finished leaving Miki’s lips. “There now,” When the young man looked away nervously, Koudou brought his hand back up to hold Miki’s chin once more, gently turning his face back forward. In a last second addition, he brushed his thumb over the young man’s cheek briefly, noting how Miki’s head tilted slightly into the touch, eyes darting back to the doctor’s face, “You trust me, don’t you, Saburo?”

The silence that followed was longer than it had ever been before, but Koudou wasn’t terribly concerned—he could still plainly track every thought that ran through the young man’s head, displayed clearly on his face. There was some hesitation, but nothing strong enough to make him think Miki would refuse. The young man was desperate, both for worth and for the means to avenge his family—a raw, determined, consuming rage fuelled by grief that Koudou easily recognised as kin to his own. They were like spirits, in some ways—enough that he knew Miki would never back down from the promise of a chance to achieve his goal. One of the things besides his uniqueness as a test subject that made the doctor almost… Fond of him.

At last, the conflict in Miki’s eyes dissipated, and the telltale nod came, the young man’s chin tapping against Koudou’s fingers once more. The doctor gave him another soft smile, releasing his face and turning back towards the table. “Put that aside, please.” He instructed, lightly gesturing to Miki’s katana. He heard the sound of cloth and motion behind the sounds of him readying supplies. Turning back with the appropriate cloth and bottle in hand, he was unsurprised to find the young man had obeyed, the sword leaning against the wall. Yet another pleasant trait—finding a cooperative subject was almost as rare as finding one that took to the procedure as well as Miki. “And you should sit down.” He didn’t look up from the precious task of pouring the liquid onto the fabric, but again he heard the rustle of silk as the young man sank down onto the straw mat covering the corner of the room, next to the futon. Another good thing—it would be best to not have to move him too far. He really needed to see about finding a new exam table.

Putting away the closed bottle, he took the soaked cloth in his hand, crossing the room in measured steps to kneel behind the young man’s shoulder. Miki was staring either at the floor or his hands in his lap from lowered lids, biting his lip slightly, still a bit tense. Well, in a fashion, this would help with that. As a forewarning, he reached up and gently smoothed his free hand over the young man’s hair, noting the instinctive start at the sudden touch. Lingering for a moment to be sure Miki was calm, Koudou’s hand drifted to the back of the young man’s head, fingers tangling slightly in his hair for grip. Then he raised his other hand to set the cloth over Miki’s nose and mouth.

The young man stiffened immediately, resisting on impulse, but the doctor’s hand tightened on his hair, pulling Miki against him to keep the cloth over his face. “Shh… It’s alright… It’s alright…” He doubted the words were understood, but that didn’t matter—what was most important was a level tone, “Just breathe… Take deep breaths…” He positioned his arms around the young man to contain him, combing his fingers through the small tangles in Miki’s hair as if to sooth a panicky animal, continuing to murmur softly. The young man continued twisting a bit, hands grasping instinctively at the doctor’s arm, but he managed to maintain enough control to not actually pull hard enough to dislodge the cloth from his face. It took effort—Koudou could feel him trembling, and tears began to well in his eyes, catching in the lashes.

The doctor drew him even closer, folding over him a bit, counting silently as the young man struggled to take slow, heavy breaths. “Do not be afraid, Miki Saburo,” He whispered, smoothing his hand over Miki’s hair in a steady, constant rhythm, in time with each inhale and exhale, “You are my greatest success—I would never cause you unnecessary pain.”

At long last, Miki blearily mumbled something, and his eyes finally closed over the tears brimming in them. The word was muffled by the fabric, and the way his head lolled sideways as his body went fully limp, pressing his face into Koudou’s chest, but… It sounded like ‘aniki.’

Koudou held him for a little longer, running a hand over his hair a few more times, more slowly, until the young man’s breathing levelled out completely. Once he was satisfied Miki was completely under, he slowly unwrapped his arms from around the thin shoulders, tossing the fabric he’d used into the laundry. In the next moment, he guided the unconscious form in his hold over to the futon, cushioning the young man’s head on the pillow carefully, with the same attention he had bequeathed to injured animals in the past.

Under anaesthesia, all the anger and frown lines in Miki’s face smoothed out, easing the weariness that the rage and grief had added to his appearance. The tears that had been partially formed in his eyes were smeared across his cheeks, dripping onto the bedding, leaving small stains in the cloth. When not standing tense like a tightly coiled spring, his body was slender, delicate—all awkward angles and youthful softness.

He looked… He was… So young. He couldn’t be much older than Chizuru—two or three years, at most. Barely more than a boy.

Somebody’s child, whispered a voice in the back of Koudou’s mind, as he watched Miki’s tear streaked face, somebody’s son.

A softness he hadn’t felt in years gathered in his chest as he watched the young man—the boy—sleep. Under the influence of the chemicals, there were no twitches or movement—if not for the languid rise and fall of Miki’s chest and the fact that he wasn’t quite pale enough, he could have passed for a corpse. Another child caught up in a conflict that had been brewing for long before he was born, one that would likely destroy him.

Koudou sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. There was no purpose to these lingering emotions—he had no use for them, they served no purpose to his goal. He might not savour using as innocent a soul as Miki, but he didn’t have a choice. Not when the boy was the foremost amongst all his attempts. A pity, yes, but he couldn’t lose so precious a specimen.

Opening his eyes, he took one last deep breath, then reached out to brush the wayward strands of hair away from Miki’s face. He’d wasted enough time—he needed to get to work. He had been able to brew a brand of chloroform that was sufficiently effective on Furies, but it didn’t last forever, and there was much to do. His posture shifting back into professionalism, he leaned further forward to arrange both the boy’s arms straight at his sides before getting to his feet and turning back towards the rest of the lab, to fetch his bag. It was time to get to work.

~I’m trying desperately to find a replacement for the horizontal line and failing~

Yeah, have I mentioned I MISS THE HORIZONTAL LINE BRING IT BACK TUMBLR I SUFFER.

Anyway. I. Uh. I finished a thing.

Bc by the by I love this musical/game/thing now. It has soothed my frustrations so much. I’m gonna now go and listen again bc I’m starting to get kinda salty and it is like the magical ‘Detox the Fire’ button. Or maybe that’s just Sunagawa singing.

#Firebird Writing #Random Writing Tidbit #Hakuoki #Hakuouki #Miki Saburo #Saburo Miki #I should give Miki a precious tag Sunagawa landed him there #anyway I wrote this #and now I am so frickin tired so I'm gonna try to go to bed here #maybe make a few notes first #aaaaaah also gotta send an email #and leave myself a note to call the CPAP equipment people…#okay okay #why is having a life so very hard #Things You Didn't Know Fire Was Into #for lack of a better end tag #EDIT: I'm going for it

9 notes · View notes

flyinghome-againstthewind · 4 years

Text

the best by far is you: chapter 9

Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

For all the things my hands have held The best by far is you - Cecilia and the satellite

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

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Chapter 9

April 16, 1746

Culloden House

Jamie gripped her elbow hard as he rushed her out of the house, away from Rupert, from Dougal’s dead body… it had all happened so fast…

And the inevitable had truly been just that ‒ nothing she or Jamie could succeed at stopping, though they’d given everything to that cause for the better part of a year now. The Battle of Culloden would begin this very morning.

“Jamie!”

Both of their heads whipped up at the sound, seeing Murtagh flying towards them on horseback like the devil himself was on his tail.

“Where has he been?” Claire wondered out loud, but Jamie only released his hold of her and ran for his godfather. She knew only that Murtagh had been acting on an order for this godforsaken war and hadn’t seen him for a few days. As he came into view, Claire noted the odd bulk around his torso and before her brain had any time to process, Murtagh had pulled the horse to a stop and immediately lifted a small, red-headed toddler from under his cloak.

Claire’s breath caught in her throat.

Faith.

Jamie was there, ready to grab her from Murtagh, and Claire watched in disbelief as he lowered Faith into his embrace, kissing her cheek as he did.

The wind-tossed curls were much longer on her ‒ had barely been long enough to curl when last she saw her ‒ but the small, scared face peeking over Jamie’s shoulder at Claire was unmistakably her child’s.

She had hardly swallowed this realization before Jamie had turned towards her. In a few long strides, he was in front of her and whether Jamie initiated it or she did, whether he had any intention of handing over Faith or not, Claire found herself clutching Faith’s head to her shoulder, her other hand anchoring the little body to her own. Her baby. She turned her face into the crook of Faith’s neck, spilling tears and kisses onto her skin.

It felt so centering to have Faith in her arms after eight months without her, that Claire didn’t even wonder why she was there with them for three solid minutes.

But Murtagh dismounted his horse and men were filing into lines nearby and the reminder of where they were and what was about to happen hit her like a punch in the gut.

“Jamie?” She asked urgently, her unspoken question already there in her eyes.

“I’m getting us out of here, mo nighean donn.” He murmured, though his tone was just as urgent, and she felt relief flood her veins. In the three years that she’d known him, he’d never let her down in this regard ‒ he always had a plan. They were going to run. And they’d be safe, he’d see to it. She had no doubt of it.

“Come along,” he said gently, tucking her in against his side, sheltering her and Faith as he led them back inside. Fergus was waiting in the doorway, and Murtagh was close on their heels.

Everything that unfolded next happened in rapid sequence. Jamie filled Murtagh in on the news of Dougal. A deed of sasine appeared to transfer the title of Lallybroch from Jamie to his nephew. Claire took all of this in while in a half-daze with Faith anchored on her hip.

Faith was bigger, heavier, Claire noted. And her wide, terrified gaze jumped from Jamie to Murtagh and back to Claire, with no ounce of recognition there. They’d been gone too long. She’d already forgotten them.

Claire swallowed back the bile that rose suddenly in her throat. She felt lightheaded from the nausea, with no idea if it was the pregnancy she was scared to acknowledge, or the fact that she had become a stranger to her child that made her physically ill.

She breathed in slowly to steady herself and shifted Faith higher in her arms to kiss her round cheek, the urge to soothe her being stronger than any other impulse.

“Claire.”

Murtagh held out the quill to her and gestured to the deed. He held the parchment flat while she shifted Faith to her left arm, took the quill, and signed as a witness to the loss of the only home she’d ever known. A tear slipped from her cheek and fell perfectly over her last name, blending with the still-wet ink and obscuring the name altogether.

The dazed feeling returned, making her unable to process the moment as it unfolded around her, but she became suddenly aware that Jamie meant to send Fergus to Lallybroch with the deed.

“You can’t.” Her voice came out soft at first.

But Fergus was holding the deed already and Jamie gave him final instructions as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Jamie.” The bite in her tone came out clearly and all three of them turned to look at her. “You can’t send him alone to Lallybroch. He needs to come with us.”

The flicker of self-doubt in Jamie’s eyes was just that ‒ a flicker, there and gone suddenly. In its place was a dogged determination that almost frightened her. “Claire, his safest place will be Lallybroch.” As he spoke to her, his hands came to rest affectionately on Fergus’s slim shoulders. “He’s our son, but he doesna look like you or me, nor does he talk like a Scotsman. And that will save him, along with Jenny and Ian’s guardianship of him. Lallybroch is safest for Fergus but not for Faith. Please.”

She heard in that one word a multitude of pleas ‒ to trust him, to allow this plan to unfold, to have faith that this wasn’t a rash decision, but one he’d agonized over if it came to it. She knew his heart, trusted him with her life and yes, the children’s too, but the idea of sending Fergus alone felt wrong. But everything about their situation felt wrong now and Claire didn’t know what to do.

“Go and say your goodbye,” Jamie murmured softly to Fergus, without waiting for her response.

It struck her then as impossibly cruel that as soon as she had one child restored to her, she must part with the other. She grabbed Fergus with her free arm and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I love you. Be careful.” She kissed his head and swallowed back a cry. “Be careful for me, Fergus. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” she pleaded with him, knowing how dreadfully cavalier he could be with his own young life. She felt him nod against her shoulder and mutter something in French there, but she didn’t catch it. She did notice the way Jamie stiffened in front of her. God, none of this was easy. How had they arrived here, on this day, at this moment, after all they’d done to try and stop this bloody war?

And then Fergus was gone, slipping out of the house with the deed tucked down the front of his shirt. Although he’d grown a great deal taller since she’d first met him, he suddenly looked so dreadfully small there, against the backdrop of war.

“Stay here, mo ghraidh,” Jamie murmured before he and Murtagh slipped out, too.

She watched them only for a moment, standing together outside and bracing against the strong wind, before her gaze was inexorably drawn back to Faith.

Faith, who was unnervingly quiet and still in her arms. She kept looking around at the unfamiliar scenery, never quite at ease.

Claire’s hand brushed over Faith’s baby-fine curls and the girl’s eyes snapped back to her. She’d never forget the way her daughter’s gaze held only uncertainty and panic when it met hers. Claire forced a wobbly smile and felt a few tears spill down her cheeks unwarranted. Several words leapt to her tongue ‒ I love you, my heart has longed to be reunited with you, I’m so sorry I failed for months to stop all this and return to you ‒ but she bit them all back. What good would it do? Faith didn’t know her anymore. So she drew in a deep, fortifying breath and let it out, collecting herself and firming up her smile. “It’s all going to be alright, darling,” she said with certainty. Her words lacked the familiarity of her love for Faith, but they were honest and assuring, which is what Faith needed from her. At least, it was what Claire felt she needed from her. It would take time, she acknowledged, before Faith would rebuild that old attachment with her, and for Claire to learn how Faith had grown.

And after all they’d put her through, Faith was owed that time to relearn who they were to her, in however long it took.

“Claire?” Jamie stood in the doorway watching the two of them with an odd look on his face. “It’s time. We must go.”

She went with him without question. He helped her onto the horse and handed Faith up to her before hiking himself up into the saddle in front of her. She did her best to create room for Faith in between them without squishing her. Faith’s eyes sought hers out again, her little face pinched tight with worry, but she never said a word, though Claire was sure she must know how to speak by now, even just a little. “It’s going to be alright,” she repeated softly.

“Hold her tight, Claire.”

They rode swiftly away and the faint feeling of nausea returned. She focused on breathing steadily, a feat not easily reached while riding horseback, and her grip on Faith was as tight as she could manage without hurting the girl.

Because of this, she missed what direction they were headed for most of the duration of the ride. It wasn’t until those unmistakable stones came into view that all of Jamie’s plans clicked into place.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She screamed at his back.

He didn’t answer, only kicked his heels into the horse harder. They reached the foot of the hill and Jamie slid down and turned expectantly to Claire to help her down, his face set in an unreadable expression.

“Jamie,” she snapped. “Get back on the fucking horse! We’re not doing this.”

“Yes, we are. Now, hand me Faith and I’ll help ye down.”

She studied him, holding Faith firm in her grasp, and only relinquished her when she realized she could never talk sense into him while he was stubbornly fighting her to get off the horse. But when her feet touched the ground, she stole Faith back and shoved him hard in the chest with one hand. “Idiot!”

But she staggered on the uneven ground with the toddler that was becoming heavier in her arms by the minute, and Jamie was there in an instant to steady her.

“Claire.” His voice cracked on her name ‒ a pained note. “Please.” She shook her head at him firmly.

“No, we’re not doing this. I can’t just leave you. I won’t.”

He reached out and cradled her cheek in his warm palm. She could see now the struggle for control in him. His jaw was set tensely but his eyes gave away the depths of his pain amidst the tenderness that she always found there. “Aye,” he said shakily. “Ye will leave. For her.” His gaze shifted to Faith and his hand came to rest lightly on her back. His touch was hesitant and she was reminded at once of the moment he first saw their baby.

She’s so beautiful, I’m scairt to touch her...

Her stomach churned again. No, this couldn’t be the answer. “We can run away, all of us. Sail to France or the colonies or… or anywhere, Jamie, it doesn’t matter.”

“The ports are closed and Red Jamie hasna got a chance in hell of escaping undetected ‒ wanted by the British and my kinsmen alike for being a traitor. I’m already a dead man, Claire. And I choose the battlefield. But before then, I will see ye and Faith safe, like I promised.” He grabbed her hand and turned, trying to lead her up the hill, but she yanked herself free of his grasp.

“I can’t go back.” She was vaguely aware of the tears on her face, though she couldn’t say when they had begun. “And how dare you orchestrate this… taking Faith from Lallybroch and bringing her here, trying to force my hand.”

“For god’s sake, do ye no’ see how it is? I canna protect ye both in this time. I must send ye back to yer time, to a man who can care for ye. And I couldna risk Faith’s life, leaving her here alone, never knowing if she would get recognized as my child. No, she must go with ye, for I canna bear for you two to be parted.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead, at once disarming her of anger with his tenderness.

“Jamie,” she began feebly, unsure of what to say. His forehead came to rest against hers.

She suddenly felt the pressure of his palm on her stomach and she gasped involuntarily, a soft little sound. Her eyes flew to him and he nodded. “I ken, Sassenach. And I canna let ye stay in your condition with all that could go wrong.”

Her hand covered his over her still-flat belly. “You can’t know that. It’s much too soon.”

“No, Sassenach, you have not been a day late in your courses in all the time since ye first took me to yer bed, but it’s been two months now. The only other time that has happened was with this wean here.”

“You kept track? In the middle of this bloody war, you kept track?”

“Aye,” he murmured. “How long have you known?”

Her lip quivered. “Not long,” she admitted honestly.

“This child,” He cupped Faith’s head in his hand, thumb softly stroking her hair. “And this one,” He looked briefly at their hands still resting over her belly. “These two are all that will be left of me. Ever. So I beg of you, Claire, let me send you safely home, you and the bairns.”

There was a desperate edge to his voice that she had never heard before and everything within her fought against it. “But you are my home.”

“And you are mine, but this home is lost. So you and the bairns must go to a safe place. Let me see my family safe before I die, Claire. Please.”

She was too startled by his unflinchingly honest words to fight him as he started to lead her up the hill. But when they crested the hill and the familiar buzzing sound filled her ears once more, she lost whatever progress she’d made. It was again unfathomable, what he was asking of her.

“I’m not ready, Jamie. I’m not ready.” Her hand fisted in the fabric of his coat. Faith peered up at her mother with visible signs of distress, though she remained silent. “Come with us,” she said frantically. “Come with us through the stones.” Claire grabbed his hand and placed it on Faith’s back. “She needs you,” she whispered, tears slipping down her face. “I need you. I can’t leave, Jamie. Not without you.”

“We both know I can’t,” he said patiently.

“You could try.” Her pleading had turned desperate, pathetic, but she grasped for anything that might fix what he was trying to do. “You hear it, right? The buzzing?”

“I don’t hear anything, Claire.” His voice was soft and placating, and yet it made her want to weep even further because he wouldn’t agree to try. Still, when he strode over toward the stones, her mind only half-registered what he was saying. His hand reached out toward the stone and her breath caught in her throat, hoping against all hope.

His palm touched the stone and‒

Nothing.

And even though they both knew, it killed something inside of her to see confirmation of it and, watching as his face fell, she knew it broke him, too… that final outstanding hope dashed.

“My destiny lies on Culloden Moor. But I’ll find you. I promise. If I have to endure 200 years of purgatory, 200 years wi’out you,” He advanced on her, closing the distance between them. “Then that is my punishment that I have earned for my crimes.” His hand gently brushed her cheek. “For I have lied, killed, stolen, betrayed, and broken trust.” Jamie’s arm snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against him, Faith half-sandwiched between them like the night before they left Lallybroch all those months ago. “But when I stand before God, I’ll have one thing to say to weigh against all the rest.” He leaned in and kissed her, half-smiling. “‘Lord, ye gave me a rare woman.’” His next kiss came with more urgency and she gave into it. “‘And God, I loved her well!’”

When he kissed her for a third time, she kept her eyes open, even while they were watery with tears, because she couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting what it felt like, tasted like, looked like to be loved by him so completely.

Her hand came up to trace his brow and the lines of his face when he finally pulled away, memorizing the feel of him under her touch. She knew now that he’d been planning this for days, that if the moment came, he would be ready to pull the trigger and send them away. It must’ve been why he woke her in the middle of the night, from the dead of sleep, to love her one last time. She half-wished he’d given her the same understanding of that moment, the last time she would lie in his arms.

In the distance, canNon fire boomed and startled all three of them. Jamie instinctively rubbed Faith’s back, trying to give her comfort. She had looked over Claire’s shoulder in the direction of the blast but now she turned and glanced hesitantly up at Jamie. Faith suddenly wormed around fitfully in Claire’s arms, trying to get down.

“Do you want to‒” She looked at Jamie, the rest of the words caught in her throat. Goodbye felt too permanent and painful to acknowledge out loud.

Jamie lifted her from Claire’s arms and held Faith close, one last time. His hand cupped the back of her head against his shoulder. “I already said everything ye need tae know, wee lass.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Back when ye kent who I was to ye. So I’ll only say this now: I love ye, Faith.” His voice broke on her name, tears flowing freely now. “You have made my life whole.”

Struggling with her own composure, Claire reached into her pocket and pulled out the bit of amber that she’d carried with her for almost the entirety of her marriage to Jamie. She had her wedding ring, lovingly made from the key to Lallybroch, but the sudden need overtook her to make sure he had something, too, a token of their love. “Our wedding gift from Hugh Monroe. You keep it with you,” she murmured, pressing it into his palm. “Blood of my blood.”

“And bone of my bone,” he answered readily, his voice tight.

“As long as we both shall live,” she whispered before leaning up on her toes to kiss him again.

He nodded, dropping the amber into his sporran. “Here,” he kissed Faith with one last, lingering squeeze before handing her back to Claire. Then he slipped a ring from his finger and placed it onto one of hers, just above her wedding ring. “This belonged to my father. Give it to the bairn when he’s old enough.” He dug into his sporran and produced a necklace Claire had never seen before, a simple piece with a modest gemstone. He slipped it over Faith’s head and smiled slightly. “Something to remember where ye came from, a chuisle.” He sealed his words with a final kiss to her forehead, fresh tears making silent tracks down his face. Faith remained unnervingly quiet, but her dimpled hand grasped the gemstone and studied it with piqued interest.

More cannon fire sounded in the distance and the urgency of the moment returned to them. “It’s time,” he murmured hoarsely.

Claire felt a sob building at the back of her throat, a wild, desperate thing, but she swallowed it back. She couldn’t move, but he gathered her close, holding both of them in his arms, and began to walk her backwards toward the center stone. She held his gaze, trying to keep hold of the moment. Even in a time of absolute pain, she could see the depths of his love for her there in his eyes. “I love you,” she whispered. Had she said it enough to him? Did he understand how much? “I love you,” she said again, louder this time, and nearly choked with her tears. She knew they were close to the stone, could feel the indescribable pull of it. Oh God, it was almost time.

“And I you.”

She was trembling when he kissed her softly, their tears mingling with it. He nodded and turned her in his arms, but his touch never left her as she faced the stone. His hand held hers and Faith’s as he guided them forward, reaching out.

She was shaking, holding tight to Faith with one arm, and only partially aware of Jamie whispering goodbye to them before turning his face into her curls one last time.

And then her hand felt the cold press of the stone once more.

She woke slowly, blinking awake in the shade of a tall stone. Her head swam, jumbled from before, and she laid there for several heartbeats before she remembered.

“Faith?” She bolted upright and felt another wave of dizziness hit her. But glancing around the grassy hilltop gave no sign of her daughter. How long had she been unconscious? How far could Faith have gone in that time?

Claire scrambled to her feet and steadied herself, still feeling as though the world was spinning. “Faith!”

She made a quick circle around the center stone, staring down the hill and through the trees, but there was no sign of anyone else. Claire was alone.

She spun and stared at the center stone, as if it could give her answers. There was no buzzing sound anymore. What once had felt alive from within it no longer called to her.

Panic clawed its way up her throat and she screamed her daughter’s name once more, looking about desperately, but there was no response. Her breathing quickened and she strode toward the stone. Where was her baby? “I wasn’t ready, you bloody bastard!” Her hands slapped against the stone, but this time, nothing happened. She sank to her knees at the foot of the stone, the cold reality hitting her anew. “I need my baby! Jamie!” She broke with the utterance of his name and collapsed in on herself, heartbroken and grieved and very, very much alone.

Jamie watched, disbelieving, as Faith tumbled seemingly from mid-air and landed at the foot of the stone, unleashing a scream as though she’d been hurt.

His body reacted before his mind could catch up, gathering Faith into his arms at once to try and calm her. His heart beat erratically in his chest. Even as he held her, he didn’t want to believe it to be true.

It hadn’t worked. Faith couldn’t travel through the stones.

Cumberland’s troops would ravage the Highlands as Claire had said, flocking out from the very battlefield Jamie had stupidly brought his child to. Oh god, his child… with her bright burn of red hair that matched his own. He was a dead man... and she was indisputably his own if they were found together.

He let out an unearthly howl at the stone, clutching Faith tightly to him. She should be two hundred years away from him now, in the safety of Claire’s embrace. “ Ye were supposed to take her!” He screamed, his eyes boring into the rock. Why hadn’t it worked?

Faith shrieked at the top of her lungs, a painful pitch that rattled Jamie’s brain in his skull. She kicked her legs frantically against him and pushed on his chest to try and get away, which only made his grip on her tighten.

“I’m sorry. Oh God. Mo chridhe, I’m sorry. Tha thu sàbhailte.” Jamie murmured.

And then he heard it.

The scuffle of soldiers nearby and British voices approaching them.

#outlander #outlander fic #jamie x claire #faith fraser #ol fic #my fic #tbbfiy #the best by far is you

27 notes · View notes

thirsty-x1 · 4 years

Text

Lesson Learned | Kim Yohan

Request(s):

can you write about yohan in an age gap story? maybe he’s picking up reader from school and he sees her with another one of her classmates whose flirting with her so he teaches her a lesson??? maybe !!

do you think you could write about yohan and reader, with a daddy/little girl dynamic ! i can’t stop thinking about the one video where he slaps his thigh telling wooseok to lay across it :0 yet he does it with his eyes too..... like that man has some dom energy in him, it drives me crazy !! i was thinking maybe they aren’t together but reader has a major crush on him because she’s so shy and submissive,, so maybe seeing him do something to assert his dominance makes her confess the fantasies???

↬ Pairing: Yohan x fem!reader.

↬ Genre: Smut.

↬ Warnings: explicit language, dom!Yohan, sub!reader, daddy/little girl dynamic, spanking, oral sex, fingering, protected sex.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

↬ A/N: I wasn’t expecting it to turn out like this... I guess that Yohan really gets my inspiration going.

Yohan tapped on the steering wheel whilst driving to the high school, carefully observing around to find a good spot to park. He went a bit earlier, knowing that on the graduation day there would be quite a lot of people, smiling as he stared at the bouquet he had bought filling the companion seat. As he finally found a place, he sat waiting, thinking about all the years you two had been friends.

It started with you two being neighbors when younger, the memory of you running behind him begging him to show his taekwondo skills evoking a chuckle. It had been a long time since you were friends, almost as long as the amount of years that you had been into him. He knew it, of course. Maybe he tended to play dumb, but only because it was more convenient for him to do so. It’s not that he wasn’t into you, just… Not confident enough in being able to pull of the boyfriend role in your life, since he was way more comfortable with just being your best friend. Since you had never confessed to him directly, he decided to not address the situation, partly to keep your relationship the way it was whilst also to not make you feel embarrassed.

He sighed again, a little bit sad that your parents weren’t in the country to pick you up and congratulate you now, although he felt good about the fact that they trusted him enough to let you alone with him. The sound of the bell pulled him out of his thoughts, immediately grabbing the bouquet as he got off the car, waiting in front of the entrance along with some other people. His eyes finally found you, but his happy expression quickly dropped as he noticed you walking pretty close with another guy. A guy that was obviously flirting with you. The second he saw the other giving you a gift, his suspicions were confirmed, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to not throw a scoff at the action. Confessing on the last day? Really? But what annoyed him the most was seeing the shy smile on your face, eyes opening wide before giggling the same way you always did with him.

It annoyed him. Far more than what he would care to admit. It was already bad enough that the guy was trying to hit on you, but having you follow his game… He couldn’t hide the irritation in his face when you finally spotted him, your face suddenly lighting up and running towards him, although he had to admit that he was satisfied at the expression that the guy made when you left him without hesitation.

“So you came~” Yohan nearly gave in at your soft tone, but the anger was stronger.

“Yeah. Congratulations on graduating.” You were taken aback by his cold tone, and he noticed it, but he just couldn’t handle it. He gave you the flowers almost abruptly.

“Thank you, but… is everything alright?” Huh? You didn’t even react to his gift?

“We have to get going quickly. Get in the car.”

There was definitely something off in his attitude, but you couldn’t quite grasp your finger around it. You followed him, turning around to give a little wave as a goodbye to your friend before getting inside the car, furrowing your brows as you heard a little sigh beside you. The ride home consisted in you speaking about your whole day and Yohan listening while clenching his jaw, trying to pay attention to you but his mind was filled with thoughts about you and the guy from before. Since when were you two that close? Had he ever tried more with you? Why would you flirt back if you were into him? It was way too much.

As you arrived to your house, he got out, not waiting for you to invite him in. It wasn’t much like him to do so… Despite knowing each other since forever, he still acted extremely polite. Maybe it was because your parents weren’t around? You didn’t give it much thought before walking right behind him, unlocking the door and getting inside, quickly taking off your blazer and looking for a place to put the flowers he gave you. He observed you the whole time, holding back the impulse to snap at you and trying to calm down. Right when he was about to speak up, you did it first.

“I really love the flowers, they are absolutely beautiful. You always know how to make me happy~” It threw him off, softening slightly before noticing the small box that was on the table.

“Who was the guy from before? I never saw him with you.”

“Huh?” You followed his eyes and gasped when you realized what he meant. “He’s just a friend.”

“A friend that gives you gifts?”

“Yes, like you.”

The comeback was smart and had him biting his tongue, but that didn’t last long. “I know you are into me.”

You froze, giving your back to him. “What are you saying..?”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

That was it. You left the flowers without arranging them, going upstairs to your room without replying to him, hearing his pressured steps while he repeated “sorry” multiple times. He didn’t hurt you, you knew he had noticed, but did he have to talk about it in a situation like this? Using it against you? It drove you mad, as if he had somehow disrespected your feelings. You were about to close the door on his face but he was stronger, pushing through it easily.

“Fuck you.” You spat the words, his expression showing surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck you for using my feelings against me. The fuck is wrong with you?” He clenched his jaw, a mix between anger and guilt revolting his insides.

“Watch your words.”

You threw a scoff at him. “As if you did that just now.”

“Why you go around flirting with others if you like me?” His statement lacked any logic.

“Oh, sorry daddy, didn’t know I need your permission to talk with anyone that isn’t you.”

His posture changed. “What did you call me?” You didn’t answer, and he gripped your chin. “Repeat it.”

It was the first time that Yohan treated you like this. Usually he was soft, treating you lovingly as if you were nothing but a younger friend he had to look after, but right now all that gentle touch was gone.

“D-daddy…”

“Tsk, of course you would be into something like that.” He let you go, sitting on your bed and patting on his lap. You walked towards him, unsure of what he asked for. “Punishment.” The sole word sent a cold shiver down your spine, but the look in his eyes indicated he wasn’t playing around and his patience was low this time.

“Y-Yohan–”

“Do you want this? Answer yes or no. If you don’t, then I’ll leave right now.”

You hesitated for a minute before timidly laying down on his thighs, trying to lower your skirt until he swat them away, pulling up the fabric and exposing your ass, getting you flustered at the action. He caressed your skin, your heart beating faster and awaiting the first spank, but instead he went lower, rubbing your core over your underwear, chuckling at the wetness that was pooling.

“Really? I didn’t make anything yet.” He teased you, feeling how you started relaxing under his touch, whimpering when his hand suddenly impacted against one of the cheeks. “Don’t flirt with others.”

“But I didn’t–!” Another spank interrupted you.

“Don’t speak until I tell you to.” You nodded and felt another hit. “Answer with words.”

“Yes, daddy.”

He hummed approvingly and simply continued, enumerating the reasons why you deserved each one of the spanks reaching to fifteen before stopping and feeling the in-between of your legs again, smirking as he noticed how this time your juices trespassed the fabric of your panties.

“So dirty… if I knew you were going to react like this, I would have taught you a lesson earlier, I know how many times I’ve wanted to do so.” The confession made you squeeze your thighs together, and he laughed again. “What do you want to do now, baby?”

The affectionate name didn’t match his sinful actions. “C-can I suck you off?” The boner he had was pretty evident against your lower stomach, and the thought that it was punishing you what turned him on was affecting you greatly.

“So obedient all of a sudden… Get on your knees.” You followed his commands without doubting, looking up to him with innocent eyes as he placed his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open that pretty mouth for me, doll.”

He pulled out his cock out, stroking it as he looked down on you, eyes getting hazy as you did what he said. Even if he was letting out this side of him, he was still careful, noticing by your whole demeanor that this was indeed your first time. He indicated you how to do it, controlling your pace and becoming patient out of the blue. In a certain way, your innocence made him feel even more turned on. When you licked the underside of his head, you noticed how his hips bucked up, his eyes closing as his mouth let out a sigh, so you did it again, one of his hands yanking your hair as a warning but you kept at it anyway until he pulled you apart, a string of saliva connecting you with him.

“Is that how you want to play? Bed, on your back, now.” He hid his smile, seeing how you did it before taking off his shirt and hovering over your body. “Luckily you won’t be needing this uniform anymore.”

And just like that he ripped your shirt open, not caring about the buttons nor about the fabric, staring at your bra and the part of your breasts that showed above it before leaning in and placing open-mouthed kisses in the valley of your chest, sliding up and marking your neck. You could feel his hand traveling up your thigh, making your underwear aside and just when you were trying to get ready, he kissed you. His lips were incredibly soft and plump, molding against yours as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth at the same time one of his fingers entered you, causing you to moan into the kiss. He started fingering you gently, adding a second finger when he felt you were ready for it, scissoring them carefully to stretch you out. Despite the initial awkwardness, you considered sweet of him to take it slow, and this time you were the one to kiss him, tangling your hands in his hair, evoking a grunt from him as he buried his fingers completely inside of you.

“Yohan…” He let this one slide merely because of how fucked out you sounded. “I need you, please.”

How could he say no? You weren’t sure when or from where, but soon he was naked and rolling a condom on. He looked up at you once again while taking off your underwear, pulling the fabric of your skirt up before aligning against your pussy. As soon as you gave him permission, he started pushing, letting you get used to the feeling, taking the opportunity to appreciate the view. It was… strange. Out of all the scenarios he imagined that happening, this one was completely unexpected. Not that he complained, but maybe he would have liked it if it had been a little bit different.

“Is this enough?” The question took you by surprise, making you blink a few times, tears falling down your cheeks from the slight burning in your lower part. You knew what he was talking about, one of your hands coming up to cup his cheek.

“It’s more than that.” He relaxed, and the change in his appearance made you laugh. “You can move now, by the way.”

“Good, I wasn’t going to be able to hold it anymore if you kept looking at me like that.”

Yohan didn’t give you opportunity to ask what he meant as he pulled out almost completely just to enter again slowly, both hissing at the friction. You clenched down on him, and if he had any strength he would have definitely glared at you with a severe expression, but instead he increased his pace, the lewd sounds of your wetness and your moans filling the room as he fucked you roughly. His thrusts became more precise, trying to find your sweet spot, flinching when you dug your nails into his back, sharply taking in some air before whimpering his name multiple times, that being all he needed to unleash all of his strength.

“C-can I c-come?” Your plea sent shivers to all of his body, smiling despite his breathing being a complete mess.

“Of course, baby, cum for me.”

Soon he was cumming as well, your walls tightening being too much for him to take. He moaned lowly, spilling into the condom and pressing a small kiss against your lips that ended up becoming more passionate that what he intended, pulling apart before chuckling. He was careful to not hurt you as he left your insides, quickly putting on his underwear before going to the bathroom and going back with a warm towel to clean you up, his service making you laugh.

“Thank you.” He simply hummed a response before searching some clean clothes and passing them to you, already used to the pajamas you always wore. “Uh, Yohan?”

“Yes?”

“What does… all this mean?” He seemed confused before smiling, proceeding to explain everything clearly. “Oh, so you were jealous.”

“I was not–” The look you gave him was enough to make him chuckle. “Fine, maybe I was a little bit jealous.”

His arms wrapped around you as he laid down next to you, the warmth of his body making you feel drowsy as you placed your head against his chest, your butt still hurting from the previous punishment which made you remember something.

“Well, lesson learned. But next time it’s my turn.”

He laughed loudly at your words. “Yeah, sure.”

Of course I had to end it with some soft shit, this is Yohan we are talking about.

~Nani

| Masterlist |

178 notes · View notes

mycupoffanfiction · 5 years

Text

A Real Sweet Guy Part 3

A biker!Bucky x shy!Reader Series

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

The reader lives on the same street as Bucky, the leader of a biker gang, which everyone in her building is afraid of, except for her. When Bucky makes a simple act of kidness to the reader, she realises she was right to not be afraid of him.

Warnings: None - just fluff and Gladys.

Word count: Approx 2700

Masterlist

Part 3 is here! I’m already working on part 4, I am so in love with writing this series! Let me know what you think and if you want to be on the tag list 💕

____________________________

Walking back from a trip to the store for a few ingredients, you pause when you see the newspaper on Bucky’s driveway. You know it’s Gladys’ doing. Rushing across the street, you scoop the paper up and take it indoors with you. When you get up to your apartment you drop your shopping bag and grab a marker, writing in all caps across the paper, STOP THROWING PAPERS AT BUCKY. You go into the hall and push it through Gladys’ letter box and let out a satisfied hum before going about your day.

You were knee deep in cooking when a sharp rapping at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You set down your wooden spoon, wiping your floury hands on your apron and you move to the door, peering through the peephole. You groan out loud and pull open the door. You’re met with a newspaper to the face and you look across at Gladys, very unamused. “Don’t you have anything better to do than assault people with newspapers?” You scoff, kicking the paper out of the way and slamming the door shut before she could argue so you could continue baking.

It was several hours later and you hopped off the rickety old bus with a large worn biscuit tin clutched in both hands. You walk around the corner until you see the obnoxiously sized sign for Roger’s Repair Shop. Walking up the driveway, you approach the garage, the front was completely open and Bucky looked up from his work when he heard your footsteps on the gravel and shot you a gorgeous smile. He was wearing a grey flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his usual roughed up jeans and boots. It’s at that moment that you realise Bucky has a tattoo on his right arm and you make a mental note to ask him about it later. You saw Steve look at you through the window of the office and turn away. “Bucky, your girlfriend is here!” Steve shouted and you see Bucky heave a sigh and hang his head low.

Giggling, you approach with a big smile on your face. Bucky stands up and walks towards you, wiping grease from his hands with a rag he tucked in his back pocket. “Hey, doll.” Bucky greeted you, pulling you in for a one armed hug. “Hi Bucky.” You were brimming with excitement as you held your tin tightly to your chest. Steve stepped out of the office, you knew who he was, you’d just never met him before. “You must be (Y/n), I’m Steve.” He stepped forward, holding out a hand to shake. “It’s good to finally meet you Steve.” You beam up at him, shaking his hand gently. “I made you guys some cookies.” You smile, handing Bucky the box. “They’re mostly for you, but also everyone else.” You blush, looking down awkwardly. Both men chuckle and Bucky squeezes you around the middle again. “Thanks, doll, that’s real kind of you.” Bucky lets go and opens the tin, a look of bliss on his face when he breathes in the cookie smell. Steve steps away to finish up his work as you watch Bucky’s reaction to your cookies.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” Bucky asks. “Sweetheart?” You hear Steve pipe up in the background as he’s working on something. You stifle a giggle and lock eyes with Bucky. “It was good, although Gladys smacked me in the face with a newspaper.” You rub the back of your neck while Bucky turns to put the tin down on a work bench. “She what?” Bucky frowns, turning to look at you. “Why’d she do that to you? You’re the sweetest person around.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, he was far more concerned about this than you thought he would be. “I kind of posted the newspaper she threw at you into her letterbox with a note to tell her to stop throwing them at you.” You looked down at your feet nervously. “You stick up for me more than you should, sweetheart. Still doesn’t warrant a newspaper in the face, though. That’s just rude. Even I don’t get one to the face, usually hits me in the chest.” Bucky grumbled. What does he mean far more than you should? You would stick up for him every day if you had to, even if that meant a torrent of newspaper abuse from Gladys. “That old lady attacks you too?” Steve inserts himself into the conversation. “Apparently so. She lives opposite (Y/n).” Bucky answers for you. “I can understand Bucky, but you?” Steve jabs at him, receiving a cold glare from Bucky. “Let’s not worry about that crazy old lady.” You wave your hand and watch as Bucky dips his hand into the tin of cookies, taking and bite and humming with content. “No, no, I’m going to tell Gladys off. I didn’t want to when she was throwing them at me because I didn’t want her to be more inclined to attack me, but if she does it to you again, I’ll use the intimidation card on her.” Bucky tried to sound as serious as possible with a mouthful of cookie. Steve tries to hold back his chuckle and hides his obvious amusement by shoving a cookie in his mouth. “And how do you plan on intimidating her?” You ask, smiling up at him. “I mean, it’s not like I have to try very hard, me just looking at her makes her look petrified.” Bucky scoffs. “I’m surprised she has the guts to throw her newspaper at you, Buck.” Steve pats him on the shoulder.

You sit by Bucky as he works on a car engine and you observe the way he expertly handles everything. His metal hand seems to have excellent precision and you start to wonder if he takes advantage of that in his every day life. You watch, mesmerised as he gets up to move and the plates in his arm shift and whir. He flexes his hand and you enjoy the way all the metal joints move smoothly against each other. You look down at his right arm and try to catch a glimpse of the tattoo he has there but Bucky turns so you can’t see it. “(Y/n).” Bucky’s voice suddenly distracts you from your thoughts and your attention is brought back to him. Fuck, you did it again. You really need to stop zoning out and letting him catch you, especially when you zone out staring at Bucky. “You seem awfully distracted.” He smirks, looking down at his metal arm, twisting it slightly so the overhead light glints on the smooth metal. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t stare.” You mumble out, god why did you have to be so awkward? Bucky chuckles to himself as he wipes the grease off his hands again. “Don’t worry about it doll, I know you’re just curious.” He doesn’t seem to mind one bit that you’ve just blatantly stared at his arm and you feel the warmth in your chest when you realise how much he must really trust you to know you mean well and to voluntarily have his arm on show when you’re around. “Actually, I was curious about your tattoo.” You point to his right arm and Bucky looks at you with slight surprise.

Pulling up his sleeve past his elbow, he approaches you so you can have a look. “I have more than just this sleeve, but that would require me to take off my shirt.” He chuckles. “It’s beautiful.” You comment, running your fingers over the beautiful artwork running up his arm. “You got any?” He asks, smiling cheekily, he knows the answer to that question though. “No, I’ve considered it though.” You giggle. “What would you get?” Bucky asks. “No idea, I feel like if I got one, it would be an impulsive decision on something that means a lot to me.” You look up at him. “Like a cup of coffee?” He jokes, nudging you and you both laugh. “I meant something more symbolic.” You giggle. “Coffee isn’t symbolic to you?” Bucky backs away and smirks and you shake your head affectionately.

“It’s time for a break,” He pauses, stretching out his back and moving his neck from side to side. “Coffee?” He asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes. It wasn’t like he had to ask twice. “Maybe I can have more of those delicious cookies of yours.” He winks at you before he grabs your hand in his metal one and pulls you off your seat.

Entering the office, Steve sits with his feet up on the desk, munching on one of your cookies while he lazily writes on a notepad. Steve looks down as Bucky brings you over to the coffee machine and looks at the two of you holding hands. You notice his gaze and your cheeks suddenly heat up with a blush. “Not your girlfriend, huh?” Steve tries to contain his smile when Bucky turns to face him with a glare, immediately letting go of your hand. You look out of the window and see a girl with long brown, slightly ginger hair walking across the compound towards the garage and she locks eyes with you, shooting you a smile. You smile back and wonder who she is. From her clothing alone, she looks like she might be one of Bucky’s biker friends. She wore a red leather jacket with a simple black top, jeans and boots and was carrying a red helmet in her hand down at her side. “Huh, Wanda’s back.” Steve follows your line of sight and pushes away from the desk, dropping the notebook down and getting up.

“Thanks for the coffee.” You smile up at Bucky as you take the mug from him. “You don’t have to thank me every time, sweetheart.” He speaks quietly. You beam up at him and he gives you his lopsided smile. You look out of the window again to see Steve practically throw himself at Wanda, picking her up and pulling her about in his excited embrace. “They a thing?” You ask, pointing out the window. “Nah, the punk denies it, but I know he’s sweet on Wanda.” Bucky laughs, grabbing his own coffee and you make your way out of the office.

“So you’re (Y/n).” Wanda walks up to you, completely ignoring Steve as he trails along behind her. “I’m Wanda, it’s so nice to put a face to the name.” She says, a certain confidence about her makes you feel at ease and you shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Wanda.” You smile, still a little shy. “Bucky spoke about you a lot the other morning.” She grinned. “Wanda!” Bucky overhears and frowns. “Don’t worry! It was only good things.” She winks at you, making you giggle in response. “Steve told me you bake.” She quickly changes the subject when she realises Bucky is absolutely not happy with her telling you he’d spoken about you. “Oh, yeah I just made some cookies for you guys, Steve keeps stealing them though.” You glance across at Steve who’s taken another one. Wanda bursts out laughing. “The man’s a bottomless pit, if there’s food, he’ll eat and eat until there’s no more.” She laughed, backing away from you to pluck a cookie from the tin. “Hey, doll, c’mere a sec.” Bucky interrupts, calling you over and you give Wanda an apologetic look.

You join Bucky’s side, waiting for him to start talking but he pauses and watches Steve put his hand in the tin again. Bucky smacks the back of Steve’s hand. “They ain’t just for you punk.” He frowns. “Jerk.” Steve rolls his eyes, still snatching a cookie and backs away to join Wanda. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me to the next town over in a couple of days, they’re having an annual bike show and the guys are going, I just wanted to know if you wanted to come with?” He proposed. “I’ll even give you a ride there.” He adds and with that you enthusiastically nod. “See without even being a biker, you’re part of the crew now.” Bucky grins and pats you on the shoulder. “I don’t have a cool jacket like you guys though.” You smirk, pointing at the patches and badges that adorn his leather jacket that sits draped over the work bench. “You can wear mine if ya like doll, I think it’ll look real cute on you.” Bucky blushes at his own words and winks at you, making you giggle and look away shyly.

It’s a bit later on and you’re perched on the back of Bucky’s bike, pulling up to your apartment complex. Hopping off the back, Bucky insists on walking you up to your door and you let him. He takes your hand in his metal one, since he noticed you seem to gravitate naturally for it, he no longer holds back with that hand anymore. As you approach the door to your flat, you fumble about with your keys and unlock the door, letting you both in.

You try to hand the helmet you borrowed back to Bucky but he gently pushes it away. “Keep it, sweetheart, you need it more than I do.” He winks at you and you grin up at him. “Thank you for the ride home.” You smile, you were definitely getting used to the motorbike, perhaps even one day you might ask him to teach you how to ride one, but for now you were content with riding on the back of his. “Anytime, doll.” He smiles. “So the day after tomorrow, two o’clock sharp.” He pushes a finger into your shoulder as you nod. “I can’t wait.” You grin. “Good, you’ll meet the rest of the crew as well.” Bucky pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, they’re all as sweet as Steve and Wanda, maybe a bit loud. If it gets too much, just squeeze my hand and I’ll help ya out.” Bucky gives you a reassuring smile. He was really starting to catch on to what made you anxious and nervous and you appreciated his attention to your behaviour. “Thank you, for everything Bucky.” You say quietly. “You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.” His lopsided smile graces his lips. “Wait, I just realised I don’t have your number, doll.” He pulls out his phone and you both exchange numbers. Bucky bends down to kiss your cheek and you somehow have a rush of confidence and reach forwards to kiss his cheek back before he moves away. Bucky pulls you into a tight embrace before backing away and exiting your apartment. “Bye doll.” Bucky says, waving to you through the gap in the door and you say goodbye before he closes the door completely and you’re left alone in silence.

Your phone buzzes and you look down at it, grinning uncontrollably when you read the message.

Hey doll, can’t wait to see you next, love Bucky x

Love Bucky with a kiss? God you were about to keel over with excitement. Your fingers typed a reply and you sent it without even thinking.

Hey Bucky, I can’t wait to see you either, maybe you can show me more of your tattoos xx

And then you realise how that sounds and you facepalm, grumbling to yourself about how embarrassing you are.

I mean, not like that, I just meant, you know what I meant

Why were you just as awkward texting as you were real life?

I knew what you meant, doll, maybe I will show you more xx

You bit your lip and sighed, you couldn’t wait to see Bucky again, perhaps it was a little crazy quite how much you were falling for him so fast, but you couldn’t help it. Bucky was a big, muscular, handsome man with a tough guy exterior and a soft, huge heart of gold and you just couldn’t get enough of him, you just wanted to get to know him more and you hoped you two could bond some more on your trip out of town.

____________________________

Tags:

@shygirl-00 @scuzmunkie @ thechaoticargonaut @allonszassbutt@smashley816 @paintballkid711 @omlbarnes @jbb-bucky0310 @just-another-fangirl777 @booktease21

483 notes · View notes

thatmultifandomhoe · 5 years

Text

Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 23

Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader

Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.

Word Count: 9,626

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers

Warning: Angst, implied smut, and then a shit ton more angst, an itty bitty moment of fluff, and angst again!

Master List

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

It had been radio silence since you and Hoseok last heard from Sue. Despite not wanting to assume anything, you were hoping that it was taking longer on her end because the professor was trying to convince her to stay for the remaining two months. If that was the case, you decided that Professor needed a pay raise.

The pamphlet and the paperwork that Hoseok had brought home with him was sitting on top of your laptop, which was on your desk in the bedroom, waiting to be signed. Your mind was in a constant tug of war between being rational, and acting on impulse. You wanted to sign the paperwork for The Mate Act. Hell, you wanted to write your name in a flourish on the dotted line wherever it was required, but like the rational side kept reminding you, that if it was left unsigned until Sue agreed, it would show that you wanted – and waited – for her to physically be here to give her opinion.

Which is why, at six in the morning, you were sitting on the counter in the kitchen with a mug of coffee. It wasn’t the desired place you wanted to be, but for a few moments, you just wanted to get away. You didn’t want to see the paperwork begging for you to sign as it sat on your desk and you didn’t want to think of the worst-case scenario playing out in your mind either.

Sighing, your thumb traced the rim of the mug. Did every hybrid-human relationship have to go through this? Was it always this difficult and nerve wracking? “God, why is this so complicated?” You muttered, raising the mug to your lips, the bitter coffee easily going down and waking you up a little more. “Katie and Namjoon didn’t have it this hard.”

Even though you were a little jealous over Katie and Namjoon’s relationship, guilt washed over you faster than your coffee was waking you up. They hadn’t had it easy; you knew that. The amount of trust and trials that Katie and Namjoon jumped through to get where they are today were enough to send your mind spinning once again. It wasn’t a fair comparison.

You were just…tired. Life seemed to be pushing you thinner than you usually pushed yourself. It was like it was trying to see if you were going to break and throw in the towel, or keep on fighting like Hoseok.

Hoseok.

Automatically you looked towards your bedroom, spotting the empty side of your bed from this angle. A single arm was stretched out, the body it belonged to still passed out. It was too early for him to want to wake up.

“I’m going to fight for us Strawberry,”

His words snuck into your thoughts, but you welcomed them like cold water dousing a flame. It was funny – at least as a thought – that not only was Hoseok able to make you feel like you were personally getting kissed by the sun, but he was able to relax you like a running stream when need be. He eased the racing thoughts that never seemed to settle down, and he encouraged you when it felt like you weren’t able to continue on.

He was the only one you wanted to spend your life with, and you hoped that when Sue came home, she would see that too.

With that in mind, you carefully set the mug on the counter and with quiet steps, headed back to the bedroom. He didn’t wake up as you entered the room, nor when you lifted his arm to get back under the blankets. It was once you were settled down that his hand slipped under your shirt – his shirt technically – and squeezed your side. Like you expected, it was like your mind was finally slowing down.

“What’s wrong Strawberry?” He murmured, not opening his eyes.

You shook your head in thought, reaching up to brush the bangs out of his face. “Can’t sleep.”

He pouted as he cracked his eyes open. First, he looked at you, then the clock you kept on the nightstand on your side. “Baby, it’s six in the morning, on a Saturday.”

“I know, I know.”

Groaning, he shifted so his elbow was on the pillow, propping his chin up on his palm as he looked down at you. There wasn’t anything you could say – that you wanted to say at least – and it showed. Unknown to you, but the light in your eyes wasn’t bright like it tended to be. Instead, a sadness appeared to permanently dull them. He knew what caused that to happen, and he wished that he could kiss you to make it disappear. Sadly, life didn’t seem to work like that.

“Well,” he finally spoke, clearing his throat. “It’s too early to go to Jin’s for coffee, and it’s not warm enough to go for a walk this early,” As he thought, he drummed his fingers against your skin, his long fingers stopping their actions to affectionately rub your side before tapping once again.

While he thought, you scooted closer, your body curling to the shape of his body as you slid your leg against his calf. When he first came over to spend the nights, he always used to wear pajama pants and an old t-shirt that he owned. According to him, he never wanted to make things awkward. The very first time that he spent the night, it had been during the summer so you were only wearing a bralette and booty shorts. It was that outfit that you had worn when you left your room to go make your morning coffee, only to be surprised when you saw Hoseok in the kitchen beating you to the punch. That was the only time you had heard him stutter in front of you.

Things have obviously changed since then. With the blankets covering both your bodies, it hid the fact that he was only wearing a pair of boxers while you wore only a pair of panties and his oversized shirt.

When you shifted, his hand followed the movements of your body, gliding down your side and hip until it curved over your ass. His voice halted immediately, glancing at your face and then the new placement of his hand. “Strawberry,” he teased, sliding his fingers to your thigh to squeeze and rub. “Why didn’t you just say you were horny?”

Even though he hadn’t stuttered or blushed red since that one time, you were not able to say that about yourself. Your cheeks were already warm to the touch. “What? I’m not, I swear I’m not horny.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, increasing the pace of his fingers while bringing them further to the inside of your thigh. Your smooth legs were already quivering at his touch, and as much as you’ll deny it, he heard you softly gasp.

“You know,” he lowered his voice, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. “They say that the best way to fall asleep, is after having an orgasm.”

You pressed your lips together as you stared up at him, noticing how his brown eyes had darkened to almost black with lust and mischief. You hadn’t been lying, but as his fingers worked their way up and his movements were slowed down, becoming more sensual, your thoughts drifted to memories of how he had treated you during his heat, always putting your pleasure first when he could.

It was enough to make your thighs twitch and try to squeeze them together, but his hand was caught in the middle. Closing his eyes, Hoseok inhaled deeply, groaning when the smell of your arousal hit him at full force. “Oh Strawberry.”

Leaning down, he captured your lips, passionately kissing you until all that you were able to think about was Hoseok. Even with only one arm, he managed to roll you onto your back without breaking the kiss, which grew needier with each passing second. It wasn’t until he suddenly pulled back that you realized that you needed air too.

He chuckled at that, but without wasting time, he lifted the shirt until it was just under your breasts, kissing and nibbling over your stomach all the way down to your panties, leaving love bites in his wake. “Don’t worry baby,” Hoseok promised you, grinning as he sat between your legs, the blankets falling to his hips. The boxers he wore did nothing to hide the tent he already had. “I’m absolutely, starving.”

Six hours later, Sue was waiting in the elevator as she rode up to your floor. It had taken a lot of convincing, and a combination of real and fake tears on her part to convince the professor in charge of the study abroad program in Hong Kong to allow her go home early. They technically couldn’t stop her from leaving, it was a matter of all the paperwork that had to be filled out, and an explanation for her wanting to leave. During this process, her professors and classmates encouraged her stay, that this was an opportunity of a lifetime that she was walking out on, but she was done.

Thankfully, by saying that her hybrid was extremely sick and she was required to be there, she was able to leave Hong Kong on the fourth of April. The friends that she had made had given her hugs at the airport and wished her a safe flight back home, along with asking her to send them updates of Hoseok as soon as she was able to.

She had smiled and nodded, working the tears to make it even more real. It was only when she was in her seat on the flight that the tears vanished, and she went back to chewing on the inside of her cheek.

If only they knew the real reason for why she left.

Breaking up with Colin had been nothing compared to what Beth sent her a few weeks earlier. In fact, Sue was once looking at the picture and rereading the texts as she waited.

I didn’t know that Hoseok was mated to your friend that’s watching him.

In the same thread, Beth had sent two pictures. The first one was obviously of you, skillfully taken while you had been talking to Beth’s mother, a sweet smile on your face and blind to the idea that your picture was being taken. The second one was when you appeared to be leaving the laundry room, but this time, the right side of your body was facing Beth, allowing her to capture the picture of the freshly made bite mark on the right side of your neck.

Neither did I.

It was all that Sue had sent back after staring at the two pictures in disbelief. Beth had added on that you admitted that Hoseok was the one who inflicted the mark to her mother, even saying, Hoseok was the sweetest man you could ever meet.

The elevator finally dinged, surprising Sue as it tugged her out of her thoughts. Thankfully, she was the only one inside so there was no one to notice her mishap. When the doors shut behind her, she hesitated. She could count all the times that she walked down this hallway to your apartment on one hand. It wasn’t that she disliked coming over to your place, but that you insisted she had more room at her place for the two of you – three when she adopted Hoseok – to hang out at. Which was true, Sue lived in a fairly large house while you lived in a small apartment. It only made sense.

But now she wondered; what if she had insisted that they hung out here more often? Would she have caught you and Hoseok sending each other love sick looks behind her back? She always thought the amount of times that Hoseok went to visit you was simply because the two of you were friends, best friends even. Now she could only imagine what was really happening behind that door.

The very same door, that she had a key too.

She was digging through her purse as she marched her way to your apartment, searching for the key that would unlock the door. When you first moved in, the area around the apartment building hadn’t been the greatest, it still wasn’t in Sue’s opinion, so you had given her and Hoseok a copy of the key in the case of an emergency. Never once had she used hers, until now.

His key must be worn out by now, Sue thought, locating the silver key and pushing it in. In one attempt, she was in the quiet apartment. With a glance around the room, she carefully shut the door. It was noon and usually, you were up by nine to be at work for ten at the bookstore on the weekend. On your days off where you didn’t have school or work – a rarity the last she knew – you liked to sleep in and bum around the house. But with Hoseok staying here, he would have been up by now. He wasn’t one to waste the day away.

Despite only being here a few times, she remembered the layout of the apartment. The first door on the left was the guest bedroom, then the second was the bathroom while your bedroom was the door on the right.

It’s not that Sue didn’t want to be there for you, if she was being honest, Hoseok was always eager to jump at the chance of hanging out with you. He did invite her to go with him multiple times, but after a while, he just stopped asking. He said that having both of you there would be comforting to you, Sue however didn’t see the point. It was only a breakup, why did you need two people when one was fine? She had her other ways of being there, she always made sure to call and see how you were doing and offer any dating advice.

Walking further into the apartment, Sue peaked into the guest bedroom, a part of her hoping to find Hoseok there or at least his belongings that he had packed with him. When she stuck her head in though, there was nothing. The blankets were perfectly folded without a wrinkle and the furniture appeared to be recently cleaned.

The reality of Beth’s text felt like it was dragging her shoulders down to the ground.

She always knew that one day, Hoseok would find his mate. But she never expected for it to be so soon, or with you. There was the obvious factor, you were not a hybrid, and because it felt like she was getting stabbed in the back.

After the death of her parents three years ago, she had gotten Hoseok to not only fill up the empty space in the house – keeping it from being deathly quiet – but because she needed a companion. She needed someone that wouldn’t leave her. Someone who needed her. Of course, you were her best friend, you weren’t ever leaving her, but at the end of the day you went home to your cramped apartment, and she was once again alone in the house that was silent, surrounding her with never ending screaming.

When Beth sent the text and the pictures, it felt like you were trying to take Hoseok away from her. And with Colin gone, she was heading back to the life she tried to avoid.

The door to your bedroom was half open. Taking in a deep breath, Sue gently placed her hand on the wood and carefully pushed it completely open, her fingers sliding down to the cold doorknob. At first, all she could see was you. You were sleeping on the left side of the bed, her right. The blankets were tugged all the way up to your chin. Over the blanket however, was a tan arm that crossed over your chest that did not belong to you.

Following the arm that went underneath your head, Sue’s grip tightened around the doorknob as she finally saw Hoseok. He was pressed up against you, his chin resting on top of your head as he peacefully slept, unaware that someone else was in the room. On his side, the blanket was lower on him, only reaching the middle of his naked torso.

With narrowed eyes she walked further into the room, noticing the clothes that were strewn on the bedroom floor. If it weren’t for Hoseok having sensitive hearing, she would have gladly slammed the doors to wake you up. For some reason, she wasn’t ready for the two of you to know she was here. It felt like something was missing from this almost picture-perfect moment.

Besides the clothing on the floor, a combination of yours and Hoseok’s she learned after spotting his boxers over your panties, your room was spotless. Organized with every item put in its place. A sudden itch on her shoulder caused to her arm to suddenly jerk, resulting in the sleeve of her denim jacket to knock a paper off your desk with a soft thump. Her heart raced at the sound, not realizing she was so close to your desk.

Crouching down she gathered up the papers, one being a packet itself and the other, a green pamphlet. It was probably a research paper that you were editing or had received back, but she flipped over the pamphlet, curious as to what it was. The line between being a friend and someone who overstepped their boundaries, were broken the second she entered your apartment while you slept, so looking at this was nothing.

Still crouched, Sue’s mouth dropped open as she read the information underneath the bold heading, zeroing in on The Mate Act. Her eyes were burning as she shakily stood, and turned over the packet that she had thought was simply a paper from one of your classes. Instead, at the top of the first page, it stated that it was The Mate Act and with careful scanning, she made the connection that it was the paperwork mentioned in the pamphlet. The one that according to the information, would release her of her ownership on Hoseok, and allow him to live with you.

Her mind raced, jaw clenching as the papers crinkled in her grip. There was no doubting Beth anymore, she had told Sue the truth. The only thing missing was…

“Sue?”

Sue froze at the sound of the soft, but confused, voice. The soft voice that had comforted her for years, who had hurried to the hospital right after she called to tell that there had been a terrible accident involving her parents. The same voice that belonged to someone she once called her best friend.

Turning around, Sue glared at you, not caring that your eyes were watering up as you repeatedly open and closed your mouth. Obviously searching for some sort of explanation. But what was there to explain, when she could see what you have done?

“Sue please.”

The tears were falling down your face as you hurried to sit up in the bed while holding the blankets to keep your body covered. The sudden movements immediately woke Hoseok up. Your distress sent him into worry, thinking that you were hurt. His arms were already wrapping you in a hug when he stopped, Sue’s scent finally hitting him.

Hoseok closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Sue’s anger pulsating around her. When he finally looked back up, he met Sue’s gaze with regretful, but determined eyes. This wasn’t how he wanted to tell her – this wasn’t even a possibility that he had considered – but he wasn’t backing down.

“When…when did you even get back in the states? How did you get in my apartment?” You asked, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. Sue was back. She was standing in your bedroom and saw you in bed with Hoseok.

Sue simply switched the paperwork into one hand, holding up her keys for you to see. “You gave me a key.” Her voice was wiped free of emotion as she spoke to you. Then she turned to Hoseok, her eyes narrowing at the way he was holding you, already more in tune with your emotions. “Does she have the mark?”

Licking his lips, Hoseok glanced at your neck and then you, watching as every emotion flashed in your eyes. He felt every one as you did, not because you were his mate, because he was just as conflicted as you. Did he answer honestly? Or try and salvage any remaining bits of friendship with Sue?

He was tired of hiding it. “Yes,” he softly answered, looking at his owner once more. “She has my mate mark.” Without caring about the consequences, he reached up and gently moved your hair behind your shoulder, revealing the healed mate mark on your neck.

The bedroom was deathly silent.

With you in his arms and Sue standing by the door, it felt like a crack erupted on the floor dividing the owner and the mates from each other. Her eyes were locked on the mark, a twinge of envy coming to life in her heart as anger coursed through her veins. In Sue’s eyes, the mark, while highly respected and sealed the bond between two mates, was the last act of betrayal that you could commit.

Meeting Sue’s gaze, Hoseok rewrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. It only took that one look to know that this wasn’t going to end well.

“Pack your belongings,” Sue spat out, turning her gaze on you. On the very person she trusted way back in January. “We’re leaving.”

It took a few moments, but once the words connected with their meanings, you were shaking your head as you cried. “Please Sue, if you let us explain-”

“Explain?” Her rage had originally been focused on Hoseok, but now you were her new target. “How the hell were you going to explain this?! That the minute I left you’ve been fucking my hybrid? Or how the two of you have been going behind my back for god knows how long and were just waiting for me to leave, so that you could finish the deed? Please, enlighten me with your excuse.”

You held the blankets tighter against your chest, heart breaking as Sue accused you and Hoseok’s growls filled the room. His arms disappeared around you and as soon as he did that, it felt cold. Like the sun had gone out. She was your best friend and she was treating you like you’ve committed murder.

Reaching for his boxers, Hoseok quickly tugged them on and stood, making his way between the bed and Sue while blocking you from her view. “Knock it off Sue!” He growled, instincts demanding that he’d protect his mate at all costs. “You know that we don’t chose our mates, so stop blaming Strawberry for all this. If you’re gonna blame anyone, blame me. I’m the hybrid here, not her.”

“Exactly, you’re a hybrid!”

The room was deadly silent as Hoseok stepped backwards, the back of his legs hitting the bed as his tail and ears lowered. Never in the last three years did Sue make him feel like he was less of a person because he was a hybrid. Not once did she throw it in his face and use her power of ownership against him.

Despite the situation, while still holding the blankets up to keep yourself covered, you scooted to the edge of the bed and slipped your hand into Hoseok’s. You knew how much it hurt him to hear Sue say that. All you could think about was comforting him.

“Please Sue,” you tried again, this time meeting her gaze. She had to understand. “Please, we didn’t know. We only found out a month or two ago. We’ve been waiting until you came back to…”

But your explanation fell on deaf ears, the movement to comfort Hoseok caught her attention, and how his fingers tightened around yours. The gesture, while the intent was innocent, fueled the coals of Sue’s rage and she saw red. With a glance at the nightstand on the side that Hoseok had been sleeping on, she spotted his familiar wallet. He had the habit of putting his wallet along with his keys and phone on the nightstand before going to bed each night at home. It only made sense that he continued the habit here.

Nobody stopped her as she hurried over, grabbing his wallet as her hand trembled to pull out a thick cream paper from inside. In seconds she was standing in front of him again, holding it up unfolded in front of him. It wasn’t just a random paper, but the official document that Hoseok carried in his wallet stating that Sue adopted him. “Did you forget? I’m your owner Hoseok, you have to do what I say.” Overcome with anger, she forcibly shoved the document and wallet in his free hand, making him stumble in shock.

Your eyes widened as her words hit you, the grip you had on Hoseok slacking for a brief moment before clutching his hand, panic filling all your senses. “Sue, you can’t do this. Please, listen to us.”

Sue was having none of that however. “How could you?!” She cried, turning on you again. The root of her problem. The paperwork for the Mate Act and the pamphlet were still in her hands, crumpled as she threw them on the floor, hitting the ground with a loud whack as they narrowly missed your feet. “You were my friend and I trusted you! You could have any guy, hell, any hybrid, and you picked Hoseok! He’s my hybrid, not yours.”

Her chest was heaving as she stared at the two people she once called her friends, now standing before her like strangers. When she left to go to Hong Kong, Hoseok had hugged her so tightly in an attempt to get her to stay. Now, he couldn’t seem to get away fast enough. A flip switched in her mind and she angrily wiped away the few tears that had fallen. If that was the case, then fine. “You have until tonight to get your shit packed up and I’ll be back to get you. Then we’re going home.”

Not seeing any more of a reason to stay, Sue hurried out of the apartment, slamming the front door in her wake. In that moment, as the echo of the door replayed in your mind, was when everyone’s worst fears came to life.

The back of your eyes burned as you stared at the paperwork on the ground, the bold letters of the Mate Act mocking you from the floor with bent and crumpled pages. On a scale, Sue was right. She had trusted you to take care of Hoseok while she was gone, but Sue forgot one important thing. He was perfectly fine with taking care of himself. He was a grown man capable of making his own decisions, had his own job, and he was allowed to love whomever he wanted.

It’s not my fault, you thought to yourself, hand slipping out of Hoseok’s as you gripped the blankets with both hands. I know it’s not my fault. But your bottom lip trembled anyway, because despite knowing that, it felt like it was anyway. That it was your fault that your best friend was hurting so much.

Hoseok blinked when he no longer felt your hand in his, raising his head to turn and look at you. When he finally saw you, the instinct to protect you once more hit him with full force, along with guilt. You were still holding the blankets up to remain covered. You had been completely vulnerable, the blissful remains of this morning shattered, as you sat there taking everything that Sue had screamed about.

Looking around, he located the shirt you had slept in and knelt in front of you. The tears were streaming down your cheeks as he gently slipped the shirt on over your head, carefully slipping your arms in one by one through the arm holes, doing the same for your panties until you were finally covered. “Shh baby,” He murmured, crawling on the bed behind you and pulling you into his lap. The second that he touched you, you were leaning into him. “I’m so sorry Strawberry, I’m so sorry.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his arms hug you tightly as he kissed the top of your head. He held you so that you were cradled in his lap, tangling his fingers in your hair to keep your face against him. That way you didn’t see his eyes watering up as his face became splotchy. He didn’t want you to see that.

Sadness permeated the room as he tried, and failed, to keep his tears back where they belonged, as he attempted to say something. He should promise you that everything was going to be okay and that Sue was going to change her attitude on this, but he didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you close and kiss you wherever he could. He wanted to smell your sweet strawberry cream scent until it overpowered him, and then even more.

Because he couldn’t guarantee anything anymore.

When Sue arrived at home, she sat in her car. The radio was playing a mindless pop song that she had once loved to listen to, but it meant nothing to her right then and there. Right now, it was a stupid song that didn’t make her want to dance along to anymore.

Her luggage was still sitting in the trunk and the back seat, her purse and a duffle bag in the passenger seat next to her. It didn’t seem like she had packed so much when she left. In fact, she only recalled carrying her purse and the duffle bag when they went to the airport. As she shifted in the front seat to lean her head against the window, she suddenly remembered that it hadn’t been just her who went to the airport that day. It had been Colin, Hoseok, and you, who had gone with her and helped carry all her luggage.

Sighing, she wet her lips with a glance at the backseat. There was so much to carry in. “Jesus,” she muttered, pulling her keys out of the ignition while opening her door at the same time. Sitting and whining about it wasn’t going to get it done. If she didn’t do it now, then she’d have to do it later, and she had a feeling that Hoseok wasn’t going to willingly help her move it either.

It took not one, not two, but four trips of dragging a suitcase in each hand and dropping them off in the front hallway to bring everything all in. Once it was done, she left it there without a second look, instead, heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. After all that shouting her throat was sore.

She only took a few steps before suddenly stopping. With a look down, she lifted her foot to inspect her shoes. A pair of jade heels that she loved, were clacking on the tile floor. They were stilettoes so she expected that, but what she hadn’t expected, was for them to be so loud. Sue placed her fingertips against the base of her throat, swallowing as she continued into the kitchen, her heels once again echoing in the quiet house.

With that silence, it forced her to think.

Studying abroad had opened her eyes to a whole new language, new food, and to new friends. It felt like she was living a whole new life and having so much fun that, her texts had slowed down between her friends, and with Colin.

God, Colin.

There hadn’t been a single thing that ticked her off that Colin hadn’t been loyal. He had always been attentive, loving, and so kind to her. He played the perfect boyfriend card to the most beautiful melody, and she had been the fool to keep playing it on repeat for over three years.

Her trip had been perfect, until she received that text from Katie with the picture. Sue didn’t know who the other woman that Colin was kissing was, but it had soured her mood for a week afterwards. In that time, she cried and screamed at Colin over the phone, sometimes doing both at the same time. The friends she made comforted her with movies and some well needed girl nights of face masks and ice cream. There was so much junk food.

Heart broken in a foreign country however, didn’t last long.

With the mindset that she would never see anyone again, she stayed out late, and when her friends invited her to parties or outings to clubs, she accepted. Short outfits that revealed skin, and men that smiled sweetly and danced with her just right, helped ease the hurt of being cheated on. Sometimes she drank, but more often than not she was sober when everything happened, meaning that as she stood in her kitchen, she remembered it all.

She remembered every deed, and ever man that she kissed and had sex with from that week after the break up to last night. After a couple hours of sleep, she had gotten dressed and packed her belongings while he slept naked under the sheets, unaware that she was planning on getting on a plane to never return.

It was easy to forget about the life she had while over in Hong Kong. For once, it was like a new start where no one knew who she was. Which is why she had kept any contact with you and Hoseok short, because it reminded her that eventually, it was all going to end. The fun wasn’t going to happen anymore and there wasn’t going to be a new face to meet. Coming back home meant the possibility of running into Colin, of the sympathetic faces her friends would greet her with.

Walking away from the sink, she took a sip of the water, softly sighing as it cooled her throat. It had been annoying when you or Hoseok didn’t respond to her texts right away, especially when she first found out about Colin’s cheating, but now that she knew the truth, it made sense. Just like Colin, you had been too busy shoving your tongue down someone’s throat to care. In this case, you did it to someone she cared about, making it worst. At least Colin had to decency to pick a stranger.

“And she has his mate mark,” Sue bitterly muttered, making her way to the living room where the rug silenced her heels. “Which means, they’re basically, fucking, married.”

She shook her head as she settled on the couch, leaning forward to slip her heels off. Her feet instantly felt better as she slid them against the soft carpet before curling up on the couch. The TV remote was on the coffee table, but she took the moment to relax in her own home first. There were six hours until she had to go and get Hoseok, and as she turned the TV on to fill the silence, her eyes began to close after a few minutes, shortly falling asleep without any qualms of what she did.

Hoseok sighed as he walked back into the bedroom. His toiletries bag was packed and ready to be put into his duffle bag, but he placed it on the bed instead, prolonging having to pack until he absolutely had to.

It was only then that he realized that he had nothing else to gather up on the bed. The only bag that was all set to go was his dance bag, and he always had that ready. All of his clothes and little trinkets that he had brought were already laid out, waiting to be folded and packed away.

“Hoseok,” you softly whispered, knocking against the door frame. You watched as his back tensed up, but he didn’t turn around.

“Yeah baby?”

“I just got off the phone with the attorney,” you answered, holding the landline in both hands. “They suggest giving it a few days to see if she calms down and changes her mind. But if she doesn’t, they’re willing to take our case and help us.”

He didn’t speak, instead he nodded as he walked around the bed to where he had his clothes laid out and started folding them. You watched him as he robotically moved around, purposely taking time to smooth out the wrinkles and make sure that the fabric folded evenly. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet, he usually at least cracked a smile or teased you for staring, but there was nothing from him. Ever since this afternoon, he had been without a smile all day.

You stepped into the room and shifted his toiletry bag so there was room to sit on the edge of the bed. “You know, the woman said this happens more often than you’d think,” you offered, hoping it would somehow engage him. The afternoon had been filled with tears and then silence that it was driving you insane. All you wanted was to hear his voice. You didn’t care what the conversation was about, it could be about the Dance Studio or how the bee population was very slowly starting to come back, you just wanted to hear him. “She said that in our case, the owner eventually gives up ownership to the mate.”

Hoseok pressed his lips together, glancing at you for a second when you sat down. It was obvious what you were trying to do, and while he appreciated the effort, it wasn’t helping. Spending the last couple hours with you on your laptop, searching for lawyers that lived in the area and were reliable wasn’t what he wanted to do today.

The nice weather had been holding out for the last couple days and he had wanted to surprise you with a trip to the beach. It was too cold to actually go swimming, although he wouldn’t have been surprised if you somehow stumbled into the water or pushed him in. In his mind, he had planned on gathering shells with you, writing your names in the sand surrounded by a heart, and having lunch and dinner at restaurants.

To end the night, he was going to make a small campfire to roast ‘smores, and then bring hold your hand as you did the classic walk on the shoreline with a breeze blowing by. By then it would be too late to go home, so he was planning on renting a motel for the night and when you actually returned home, the smell of the ocean would be clinging to your clothes and hair despite the multiple showers. It’d be like a mini vacation.

Sue’s sudden return killed that idea.

Why the hell she had to enter your apartment was mind blowing to him. In what universe did sneaking around in your home – in your fucking bedroom specifically – make sense? Then for her to scream at you while you only had the blankets to cover you after such an intimate morning. You had to suffer through that will being so physically vulnerable. He wouldn’t blame you if whenever you thought about this day, you’d be hurt and embarrassed.

To be truthful, he was broken into thirds about the whole situation. A part of him wanted to scream and throw something at the wall, another part wanted to let his hybrid instincts take control and protect you like his blood sang for him to do, and finally, the remaining third wanted to hold you. To kiss you, cuddle, and make love with you until Sue was pounding on the front door demanding that he had to leave. Hell, he wanted to scent you even though you had the mate mark now. His scent was already forever intertwined with yours and still, he wanted to make sure that every hybrid would know that your heart and soul was meant for him.

He was so conflicted, that he was doing the opposite of what he wanted, and was pushing you away in fear that he’d break down and start crying again.

You stared at the shirt Hoseok was folding, watching as he moved the left sleeve across the body of the shirt and then again with the right. Once that was done, he folded the shirt in thirds before finally folding the top of it to the bottom so the top was right side up. With a small smile, it reminded you of how Hot Topic would always fold their shirts. Before he could move onto the next one, you placed your hand over his, effectively stopping him. Even with his emotions and thoughts feeling scattered, your touch managed to slow everything down to a more comfortable pace.

“We’re going to figure this out,” you promised, watching as he turned his palm up to lace his fingers with yours. “No matter how long it takes. And if we have to get the lawyer involve then we will, if not, then obviously that’s a lot better. This…this won’t be forever Hoseok.”

Hoseok finally lifted his head, weakly smiling when you made eye contact with him. This was certainly a completely different reaction from earlier. He could see the struggle in your eyes though, between the urge to do nothing but cry, or to straighten your shoulders and do something, even if it was searching for lawyers and making the phone calls that he found himself unable to make. You had cried for a while in his arms, but the tears eventually dried up. As much as you wanted to stay there, you couldn’t just do nothing. And he admired you so much for that.

“But then I’ll be your hybrid Strawberry,” Hoseok gently reminded you. Coming to stand in-between your legs, he let go of your hand to cup the side of your face, his heart softening as you leaned into his palm.

His words settled heavily on your shoulders, understanding what that would mean. More specifically, what the two of you wouldn’t be able to do if that was the case. “I’ll always have your mate mark. We’re already married Hoseok, we don’t need a document and bands for the human world to say that we are. All that matters is that we’ll be together.”

At the mention of the mate mark, his gaze slid down the side of your neck, fondly gazing at it. His free hand came up to stroke the mark, smiling as your body shivered at his touch. Even now that it was healed and looked like a painful scar, the memory was anything but that. He remembered seeing women and men wearing the marks not only growing up, but even as little as a six months ago. As a hybrid, it was how you were able to identify who was mated and who was not, along with the obvious intertwined scents.

Hybrids didn’t usually bother with marriage and weddings, it wasn’t necessary with the mate mark, but when the mate was human, it was becoming more common for hybrids and humans to participate in both ceremonial unions.

And for the last three years, he knew how much you longed to one day have a white wedding, to go dress shopping, and say I do with a gold band around your ring finger. He didn’t want you to give that up for him.

Falling to his knees in front of you, your legs immediately going around his back and locking him in place, he simply hugged you. “I swear, I’m going to make this up to you,” Hoseok murmured, tilting his head to kissed your marked neck. “Anything you want, I’ll get it for you or take you there. You just say the word baby.”

His promise made you giggle, your arms sliding across his shoulders as you kissed the top of his head. There was no doubt that Hoseok would promise to wrangle a star from the night sky if he was able to do so.

“All I want is you,” you softly reminded him, kissing his cheek when he looked up. “And maybe a house of our own one day.”

“With a yard and white picket fence,” Hoseok cheekily added, nibbling your jaw when you rolled your eyes. “Enough bedrooms for a litter of our own pups one day.”

“And how many bedrooms is that?”

“Four, not including our room. We can double them up in the rooms, or do two rooms and have four to a room.”

While math wasn’t your greatest subject, you were quick to add up the numbers in your head. “You want eight kids?” You blurted out, leaning back so his lips weren’t distracting you. “At once?!”

However, Hoseok’s laughter filled the bedroom as he brought you back to him. “Easy there, Strawberry.” He ran his hands up and down your sides, sweetly kiss you to relax you, even though your body was already doing that at his touch. “German Shepherds are known to have litters of eight pups, but as a hybrid it doesn’t happen all at once. With that being said, one pregnancy can result in twins or triplets, and depending on how many times a couple decides they want more kids, they can easily have around eight or more children.”

It felt like an overload of information that you weren’t expecting, and while you wanted kids one day, you never expected to have so many as eight.

“But Strawberry, if you only want two children, then we don’t have to have more than two kids. As long as you’re the mother, I’ll be happy to have even one child. Okay?”

After being best friends for three years, you were starting to think that making Hoseok watch all your favorite romance movies had made him a professional at making your insides feel like mush.

With all this talking about kids, your mind wandered to what it would be like to raise a, not-so-little family with Hoseok. Instead of waking up to alarm clocks on the weekends, it’d be a little group of kids crawling on the bed to wake their parents up, the room easily filling with children’s giggles. A combination of yours and Hoseok’s genes, along with soft ears and tails to give plenty of scratches to. Butterflies fluttered around your lower stomach as you took a deep breath, your eyes watering slightly before you regained control of them again.

“Ask me again when we finally move into that house,” You answered instead, your smile matching his grin as you leaned your forehead against his. “You know, the one with the yard and a picket white fence, with four bedrooms.”

His eyes lightened up as he released a loving growl, the whacking of his tail against the floor barely containing his excitement.

For a few more moments, you remained in this bubble with Hoseok, daydreaming about a future that was for right now, uncertain.

When the doorbell rang, you were cuddled up with Hoseok on the couch catching up on Stranger Things. His bags were completely packed and set on the bed as you tried to enjoy the time you had left with him.

Hoseok’s arm tensed around your shoulders as you buried your face in his chest, bringing your free arm around his waist to keep him there. Despite saying that everything was going to be okay and that you’ll get through this, you still didn’t want him to go. He belonged here and with you. He deserved to have the choice.

The bell sounded again, along with the banging of Sue knocking on the door.

With a sigh, you regretfully removed yourself from Hoseok’s arms, unable to get the sound of his whine out of your mind. It was with a heavy heart that you opened the front door, revealing Sue.

She raised an eyebrow at you, glancing at Hoseok over your shoulder before looking back at you. Your face was no longer flushed, but your hair was thrown up into a messy bun and the sweatpants and tank top you wore were an obvious reflection of your mood.

“What took you so long?” Sue sneered, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Just stop it Sue,” Hoseok softly spoke, intervening before anything else was said. Joining you at the door, he placed his hand against your lower back. He already his bags with him, his dance bag sitting on the floor for a moment as his duffle bag was settled on his shoulder and he held onto his suitcase. “Please.”

It was brief, less than a second, but Sue’s face had softened at his request before quickly shifting back to its previous annoyed state. To keep your mind off of what was happening, you compared her reaction to that of smelling sour milk and rotten trash.

“Fine,” Sue relented. “I’ll take your suitcase. When I come back up, you better be ready to leave.”

Hoseok nodded, watching as Sue dragged the suitcase on its wheels behind her, waiting until she was down near the elevator before focusing back on you. Licking his lips, he sighed. What was there for him to say that he hadn’t said already?

Instead, you beat him to the punch. “We can still text,” you softly reassured, stepping closer to hug him. “And you can visit me at work. I’m not saying goodbye though, because that would mean this is permanent and this…this is not permanent.” Your voice began to crack near the end, your vision blurring as you focused on the shirt he wore.

How you wished to go back in time, back to when it was six in the morning and done something different. What if you had suggested going away? To take a spontaneous mini vacation for the weekend? You would have had so much more time with Hoseok, and had so much more fun.

Reaching out, Hoseok ran his thumb against your bottom lip, remaining quiet as he simply hugged you. To feel you in his arms and hear your heart beating as your scent enveloped his senses was all he wanted.

“Why are you crying if this isn’t goodbye?” He halfheartedly teased, squeezing you just a little to make it count.

You sniffled out a chuckle, nuzzling your face against his chest. “Because I’m an emotional wreck.” His chest rumbled with laughter as you felt him kiss the top of your head, his hands rubbing your back.

“Yeah but you’re my emotional wreck.”

“Damn straight I am.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead once again, his lips lingering as his ears flickered in the direction of the hallway upon hearing a soft ding that he knew you didn’t hear. That didn’t last long when Sue’s heels clacked against the floor, making your body tense under his embrace. He leaned back only to tilt your chin up, rightfully kissing you on the lips.

The second his lips touched yours, a warm fire lit up inside you, making your heart feel lighter and alive. It was something that only Hoseok was able to do.

“I love you,” he softly murmured, nibbling your bottom lip before kissing you again.

Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, possibly wrinkling the fabric but you didn’t care. Inside, your heart was screaming at you to keep Hoseok here and to not leave with Sue. But your mind knew that you had to let him go, that it was the only way. If by doing this, maybe Sue would listen to what you had to say, and maybe, just maybe, let you and Hoseok be together again.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, breaking the kiss as the echo of Sue’s heels became louder.

An involuntary whine escaped Hoseok when you stepped out of his arms, but you merely shook your head when he tried to bring you back. Sue was already within eyesight and you didn’t want to push your luck with any more affection in front of her.

He understood why you did that, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“Ready to go?” Sue asked, pretending as if she hadn’t seen you kissing Hoseok the entire time. She was only in the hallway; it wasn’t like she was in another room or outside the building.

Hoseok hesitantly nodded, his face blank as he grabbed his dance bag from the floor, knuckles white while the inside of him cried and fought against every instinct in his body. He wasn’t supposed to leave his mate! He found you, you accepted and bore his mark. The two of you were meant to be together, not apart. What if something happened while he was gone? How was he supposed to protect you if he wasn’t here?

This was wrong, and as he glanced over his shoulder to look at you one last time, it took everything in him to not drop his belongings and run back to you into your apartment, locking the door and keeping Sue out when he saw your red eyes and splotchy cheeks. Already, he was failing you.

When the elevator door softly dinged and Sue and Hoseok disappeared inside, you quietly went back into your apartment, sliding against the front door until you were sitting on the floor. Your legs stretched out in front of you, the silence of the now empty home suddenly coming to life.

Before Hoseok came to live with you, this silence had been a part of day to day life. At some point over the years, you grew used to the lack of excitement and simply adjusted to it. Now it was such a stark contrast to the life that you had experienced with Hoseok. He gave this place a reason to call home. With his love, laughter, smiles, voice, even his presence alone managed to brighten up this place.

Now it was nothing.

Curling in on yourself, you cried in the empty apartment. There was no one to hold you or wipe away the tears anymore. It was just you.

The drive back home had been silent with the exception of the radio, but Hoseok didn’t make an effort to start up a conversation and neither did Sue. The tension was so thick that not even a steak knife would be able to cut through it.

He declined her help with bringing his belongings up, settling both bags on his shoulders as he pulled the suitcase against the floor, ignoring her looks. It wasn’t until he reached the stairs that he stopped. Taking a deep breath, he glanced over his shoulder, the woman that he had once known gone from Sue’s gaze. This was someone knew.

“What you did was wrong,” Hoseok evenly spoke, keeping his face clear of any emotion except for his anger and hurt. He wanted her to see what she’s done, and how much it affected him. “You know it too Sue. I don’t know what happened while you were in Hong Kong, but it wasn’t right to take it out on Strawberry and I. We wanted to be there for you when you told us that Colin had cheated, and we’re so sorry you had to go through that, but you lashed out on us and that was just as bad.”

Hoseok wanted to say more, actually, he wanted to scream and shout and tell her that he’d never forgive her for what she did, but he kept his mouth shut. Hurting Sue, despite everything, was the last thing he wanted because deep down, he remembered the way she sat in that chair at the Homeless Shelter. Vulnerable and all alone as she waited, the urge to protect her overcoming him. He still considered her one his friends.

“By the way,” he added, turning around to start going up the stairs to his room. “You didn’t just hurt me. You hurt Strawberry too, in more ways than one, and I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to forgive you.”

He didn’t look at Sue after that. Instead, he carried on to his room, shutting the door behind with a sigh. While he loved his room, he noticed that it no longer felt like home anymore. Despite being filled with all his belongings, it was empty. Tomorrow was Sunday, so he pulled his clothes off and crawled under his blankets, not feeling guilty about sleeping the day away. Out of habit, he stretched his arm out to pull you closer, but his heart constricted when his hand fell on top of the blankets.

That was why it didn’t feel like home anymore.

You weren’t there.

His bottom lip trembled and he squeezed his eyes tight, turning to bury his face into his pillow as it became wet with his muffled tears.

Downstairs, Sue was still standing in the open room near the bottom of the suitcase. Right where Hoseok had left her. His words bounced around in her mind, stirring up feelings of guilt. For a moment she thought about going up and apologizing – she even made it up the stairs – but as soon as she made the landing, she went straight to her bedroom instead. Despite her attempts to sleep, she was unable to forget what he said. She had hurt both of her friends.

445 notes · View notes

starlight-drive-in · 4 years

Text

Catching Feelings Ch. 3 Seven/MC College AU

Fic Summary:

MC’s roommate convinces her to attend a house party hosted by campus charity organization - The RFA. Minor legend and mystery on campus 707 is of course also there. MC thinks he’s weird - and absolutely adorable. Cheesiness ensues.

Chapter Summary:

Seven saves the day, and MC returns the favor.

Notes:

This chapter is a bit fan-service-y, a little trope-y and really, really fluffy. I hope you like it!

AO3 Link (Check here for warning/tags)

Chapter 3: Saving the Day

A short “squee” escapes MC’s lips as she reads over his messages again.

“What was that?” Mei asks.

“He called me beautiful!” She can’t help the smile that spreads across her face.

“See? Nothing to worry about. Even if he hasn’t seen the high-quality garbage you are in the morning!” Mei jabs affectionately.

“Hey!”

“I'm just kidding! Anyway, I have class. So you kids have fun and uhh stay safe!” Mei says opening the door.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” MC asks, but the door closes before she can get the sentence out fully.

With Mei gone the full reality of the situation hits her.

Saeyoung is coming over. Crap

She acted completely on impulse and now he’s going to realize she’s actually a smelly awkward mess when alcohol isn’t helping her words flow out so smoothly - if she could even call the previous night’s performance smooth. The point was that the alcohol helped her get her words out without her overthinking every little thing, especially in front of someone like him.

She attempts to make her bed, although that's a little rough with the headache that still persists. She borrows a bit of Mei’s perfume and makes sure to apply deodorant and then makes her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Halfway through brushing there’s a rhythmic knocking on the door almost like a little tune, so unique the only person it could possibly be is him.

She panics slightly, spitting out her toothpaste and quickly rinsing out her mouth, She smooths out her sweater and pads over to the door taking a deep breath and finally opens it. Saeyoung stands there in a crisp white button-down that seems to cling to him in all the right places. A small smile graces his lips as he runs a hand through his tousled red locks.

“Morning! Is it still morning?” He says.

“Hey. Uh” MC looks behind her at the alarm clock on the desk. “Yup still morning!”

Seven’s eyes sweep over the girl holding the door open in front of him. She looks comfortable - and adorable. Very warm, like she’d be perfect to snuggle up to and share hot cocoa with, and that sweater looks so soft! She looked sexy as hell the night before but if he’s being completely honest she looks even better like this. Like a girl you could - what’s the phrase? “Take home to mom”? If he had a mom that was. Take home to brother? Nah that doesn't sound good at all hmmm… Suddenly, something seems to catch his eye. “You um, have a little bit of something on your lip.”

“Shit.” MC stutters wiping her face.

“Oh, uh wrong side." He watches futility while she swipes the other side of her face, missing the spot again. "May I?” He raises his hand slightly, asking for permission to touch her.

“S-sure.” She can feel her face gaining heat already.

Using his thumb he quickly wipes the bit of toothpaste of the corner of her mouth. “There you go! Good as ever!”

“T-thanks" she blushes, "uhh you can come in! If you want of course.”

He studies her thoughtfully, blushing a bit himself and passes over the threshold into her dorm. “hmph, cute.” he mutters.

“What?” She asks, having not heard him well.

“Oh uh, nothing!” He attempts to cover, not realizing he had spoken aloud.

He was going to be the death of her.

“How’s your head?” Saeyoung asks her, taking off his backpack and setting in on the floor near her bed.

“Oh, its… ok.” She tries to play it off as she attempts to wheel her desk chair out for him to sit in, however one of the legs ends up rolling out in front of her and she trips, stumbling a bit before catching herself.

“hmmm" he taps his chin, "It's just as I thought.” he assesses.

“W-what do you mean?" She inquires.

“Back to bed with you missy! You need more recoup time!" Saeyoung declares, throwing back the covers on her bed and scooping her up before unceremoniously plopping her down unto her mattress.

She giggles despite the slight rush of pain that plagues her head as a result of his antics. “I guess there's no arguing that.”

He pulls up the desk chair to the side of her bed. “Do not fear! 707 has the perfect cure for you!”

“You mean your weird energy drink?” She giggles again.

“Oh no! No, no, I can’t actually let you test that, that’s what I have Yoosung for! You, pretty lady - get the real treatment! And also, I’ll have you know I almost came over here in my nurse costume just to administer it to you but I didn't want to scare you away.”

“Actually that would have been pretty amazing,” MC admits.

“Damn, next time then!” Saeyoung declares, taking items out of his bag.

“Let’s hope there isn't a ‘next time’. Last night wasn't exactly my best decision." She pauses for a moment, smiling "but I suppose the meeting you part was worth it.”

He smiles one of those smiles again and MC feels her heart flutter, little does she know how much her words made his heart feel much the same.

“Then I guess it’s only right for me to try and fix you up! Ok first, you need electrolytes!” he says brightly, handing her a sports drink. Which she takes with a smile. “Headache medication!” He continues, popping two out and handing them to her. “And finally…” He reaches into his backpack again and pulls out something wrapped in foil “Breakfast! I hope you like egg and cheese sandwiches?”

“That seriously sounds like the best thing ever right now.” She responds excitedly. “You sure know how to take care of a girl, keep that up and you’ll have me wrapped around your finger in no time,” She says before she can think. Oh my god, why did I say that? I'm not even drunk anymore, why does he make me say things like that?!

He says nothing, but smiles thoughtfully as he unwraps her breakfast for her making her feel like maybe he didn't exactly dislike that idea?

“Did you get one for yourself?” She asks, taking a bite. Her eyes roll back as a short moan escapes her lips and she throws her head back in satisfaction

Now it’s his turn for red cheeks. He wasn't exactly expecting to see that sight today. “Oh, uh. Nah! I had some chips this morning.”

“That's not a meal!” She scolds, still chewing. “Have the other half silly!”

“But that's for you!” He insists.

“Not anymore! You have to take care of yourself.”

“Says the girl who was drunk 12 hours ago!” He quips, taking the other half of the sandwich in defeat, it had been a while since he had any real food.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?”

“Mmhmm!” He says while chewing, neither of them obviously caring much for table manners. “I got you home and brought you breakfast so I get to make one jab at you!”

“Ok, fair enough.” She concedes.

They sit quietly for a moment, just eating and enjoying the company. She finishes up her half as he goes to take the second to last bite of his, inadvertently causing a shift in the contents of the tiny bit of remaining sandwich causing some egg and cheese to fall onto his shirt. Or rather - his brother’s shirt.

“Aww shit.” He mutters.

“Oh no!” she exclaims. “That's the curse of white shirts, you wear one and you’re immediately more likely to drop something on it.”

“Right? Ugh, Saeran’s gonna murder me.” He groans

She cocks her head in confusion “Who’s Saeran?”

“My brother, I borrowed this from him cuz I maaay have forgotten to do laundry and I maaaay have... wanted to look nice for you?" He hurries through the second part of his statement.

She smiles at the confession, “Well you do look nice, but there’s no way I’m letting your brother kill you! The laundry room is down the hall. I can throw it in the wash for you! I have a load of whites to do anyway.”

“I’d feel so bad to make you do that when you’re not feeling well though!” He whines.

“Nonsense! I'm feeling much better thanks to you! Now take your shirt off!” Shit, I did it again, think before you speak MC.

“Oh ho ho, so forward!” He chuckles with a sly look and a wink. "I like that."

The wink hits her straight in the chest like a bullet “Ahh I didn't mean it like that.” MC stammers.

He chuckles unbuttoning his shirt, “You are way too cute.”

She glances away bashfully. “T-thanks.”

He gets all the buttons undone and pulls off his shirt standing up from where he was seated. “You have a basket of the other stuff you need to be washed? We can go together if you want,” he asks.

She can’t speak for a moment she just points and nods her head watching him as he puts his shirt in with her laundry and picks up the basket like a model in some male pin-up magazine. This isn’t fair, I thought he was a Comp-Sci major?! He said he eats chips for breakfast! Why does he have abs!? She can almost see the cover of the magazine that would feature the image in front of her, the caption reads: "Local man eats chips for breakfast and sits in front of a computer all day but still has a 6 pack, Doctors hate him!"

“Ready?” He asks, snapping her out of her thoughts. Did he notice her staring?

He smirks.

He totally noticed her staring and now that face isn't making it any easier not to stare!

“Y-yea!” She answers quickly, getting up and slipping her flip-flops on.

In the hall, she catches more than a few girls and a couple boys ogling her companion. One girl she shares a class with gives an impressed look and an enthusiastic nod.

"Saeyoung?" She says when they get to their destination.

"Ya?" He answers casually tossing items into the washer.

"Um, I think a couple people we passed in the hall were getting the wrong idea about us."

"Us? Why?"

"Well, you're not wearing a shirt, and I still look like a hot mess. It's still somewhat morning, people might think... things."

He takes another glance at her, raising an eyebrow as he looks her over again. "Your definition of “mess” seems really inaccurate, the other part-"

A familiar male voice cuts him off "Seven?" It questions.

"Yoosung!" He cries excitedly. "What are you doing here?! You feeling ok? I heard that chocolate milk is a great cure for a hangover."

"I have a group project with someone in this dorm and I'm not falling for that again, Seven!" He defends, Seven just shrugs in response and throws in a pair of MC's leggings into the washer before picking up another article.

"Uh… Seven?" Yoosung says slowly, not looking at Seven's face.

"Ya?"

"Why do you have a girl's bra? And where's your shirt?! "

"Oh. Uhhh." Seven stammers, trying not to picture how the lacey bralette must look on her. "I, uh."

MC's shock is unavoidable but she has to think fast. "Oops! That's mine! It must have fallen into your stuff on accident, I'll just be taking that, thanks! Sorry about that!" She snatches her undergarment from out of Saeyoung's hand and holds it to her chest possessively.

Yoosung's eyes snap to her and then narrow before he smiles at her. "Have we met?"

Wasn't he that drunk kid who kinda latched onto her shoulders last night?

"I'm Yoosung by the way!" He says excitedly seeming to have completely forgotten about Seven who just snickers as he throws the rest of the load in.

So this is his test subject MC thinks to herself.

"Nice to meet you, Yoosung. You must be a friend of Saeyoung's?" She asks.

Seven turns back around just in time to receive a questioning look from Yoosung. "Yea, I mean I'd like to think so at least. Although I'm curious about how you met Saeyoung." He emphasis the name while looking at Seven questioningly once more.

"We met at the RFA party." Seven tells him.

"The one last night?" Yoosung asks doubtfully.

"Yup! That's the one!"

"Hmph, interesting…" Yoosung deadpans. "Well, I've gotta get to work on this project. I'll see you and your new friend later."

“Awww, Yoosungie! Don’t be jealous.” Seven calls as Yoosung walks away.

"Is he ok?" MC inquires once she's sure Yoosung is out of earshot.

"Yea, he's just sensitive."

"Whatever about?"

"I knew him for 2 years before I told him my real name he's probably wondering why you already know it when we only met last night."

MC hums contemplatively. "And why do I know it?"

"Because." He says simply.

"Because?"

"Mmhmm"

"Is that all your going to tell me?"

"Mmhmm!"

"Why don't you use your real name anyway? Do you not like it?" She asks as he uncaps the laundry detergent. "C-cuz I think it's a cute na- I mean a nice name. I mean I'm just kinda wondering why you don't use it I guess?"

He smiles at her compliment but it doesn't reach his eyes. "It's a dangerous name. A dangerous name for a dangerous person."

She cocks an eyebrow at him and barks a laugh "Oh, yea you look real intimidating right now pouring that laundry detergent."

He laughs with her while he finishes up with the machine.

She gasps dramatically, “Oh no whatever will I do?! This man NO, not a man! This menace came to my dorm and did my laundry after he fed me and made my headache go away, he must be stopped!”

“I know, I know It’s hard to believe because I’m so cute but it’s true!” He defends.

“Ok, Ok. should I be careful of you helping old ladies across the street too?”

“Don’t say I didn't warn you, Sweetie” He says in a sing-song voice.

For a moment she considers whether or not he’s actually being serious, but she just can’t imagine the guy standing in front of her right now - who, by the way, is currently trying to blow a stray hair out of his face and failing (adorably)- being involved in anything even remotely dangerous. No this is definitely another one of his stunts.

Seven’s phone goes off, interrupting her train of thought. “Shit,” He says, sounding disappointed.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve got class in 30 minutes, guess I didn't think this through to well.” He says finally tucking that pesky hair loss behind his glasses and motioning to the laundry machine.

“That’s ok!” She ensures, “I can bring you your shirt later tonight, or tomorrow! I know where you live.” She says tauntingly.

“Oh ho ho, now whos the one trying to seem dangerous hmm?” He reaches out, tickling her side. She stifles a giggle and jumps back a bit.

“Uh oh.” He says

“What?” she says nonchalantly.

“You're ticklish!” “I have no idea what you’re referring too,” She says backing away from him, but smiling all the same.

“Mmmhmm.” He hums sauntering closer to her until she backed up against the wall. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I…” he pauses “DO THIS” he finishes attacking her sides in feather-light caresses.

She thrashes back and forth in a fit of giggles, filling the air and Seven’s heart alike with mirthful joy. He chuckles watching her react to him.

Her face becomes flushed with a dusting of pink, her eyes prick with tears as she smiles from ear to ear. He becomes so enraptured with it all that he begins to slow his torturous tickling and then ceases completely. Just. Staring into her eyes.

They’re so close now. He could close that gap very easily, but would she welcome it? He inches a bit closer, her eyes widen as she’s entranced by his molten gold irises her breath hitches in her throat and then…

His phone blares again, knocking them both out of their trance. Saeyoung stumbles back, embarrassed and checks his phone again “Crap, I’ve got 20 minutes” he mumbles.

She frowns as he steps away from her. “Guess you better get a move on, then”

“One more thing, can I ask you a favor?” He says slowly and she nods in agreement, “Can I borrow a shirt?”

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger fanfiction #sevenxmc #saeyoung choi #707 x mc #luciel choi #saeyoungxmc #fanfic #catching feelings #my writing

20 notes · View notes

btgalaxy · 5 years

Text

Moonlight - Jungkook wolf!au

➳ pairing: jungkook x reader

➳ genre: wolf!au, a little bit of everything tbh; angst, fluff, smut

➳ word count: 4.6k

warnings: oral sex, fingering

previous / next / masterlist

Chapter 9

When Jungkook wakes, you’re still vulnerable in a deep slumber, weighing down on one of his arms. His eyes slowly focus in on the ceiling, feeling only the warm gusts of breath against his palm from your slightly parted lips. Why does he have to be so impulsive sometimes? It’s like he can’t hold back, as much as he wants to and tells himself it’s not the right course of action he just cannot stop himself from submitting to his inner Alpha instincts telling him to go crazy. And you thinking he doesn’t want you? You couldn’t be more wrong.

Everyday he ends up at the packhouse after leaving you in the morning, only able to envision the sight of you with strands of hair strewn across your face, sticking to your lips and your silk nightdress looming dangerously low on your chest to reveal some of the supple flesh that makes him want to reach out and trace the curve of your breast, feeling the way you automatically press into him. He wants it so badly. He agonises everyday with his hand down the front of his jeans behind his desk, rapidly searching for something to relieve this paralysing ache, but he’s never left fully satisfied. He still yearns for more, for you.

You stir slightly in your sleep, turning around to face him and nuzzle into his bare chest and his arm tightens around your form, gently running his fingertips along the skin of your arm. All he wants to do is protect you. He couldn’t bear seeing you hurt; it might nearly kill him. Even worse, the thought of you being in another man’s arms, kissing him, caring for him, loving him. He subconsciously curls around you closer. He can’t think about that.

In fact, he doesn’t want to find the Hoseok boy from your old pack; he doesn’t want to know anything about the little shit, but he’ll do it for you. If it at least stops you from contacting that damn unmated Alpha Taehyung from Crimson Lake then he’ll do anything. And he truly does want to see you happy- something he isn’t entirely sure he’s experienced much of since you got here, so, despite being angry finding you on the phone to that imbecile Alpha, he’ll do it. Stupid fuckin’ Taehyung.

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before slipping from your grip and the security of the duvet and staggering over to the cupboard to yank a jumper from the hanger, but not before he notices a broken piece of cardboard that flies to his feet. He leans down and takes it between his thumb and forefinger, glancing at your sleeping form briefly to check you’re still dead asleep, then brings out the rest of the box.

“Shit,” he mutters quietly to himself. The lid is broken. The lid has been broken by someone, and that someone would never be Jin, he wouldn’t have the nerve, nor Jimin- he knows all about Jungkook’s history already. It has to have been you. He swallows down the bile biting at his throat when he sees a glimpse of himself and his father many years ago; a brief slice of history sized down into a tiny polaroid, coated now in a thin layer of dust. He swiftly places the broken top back on, shoving the whole thing back into the cupboard and retrieving a jumper, deftly ignorant to the reality.

It’s a good few hours later that you wake up, still feeling Jungkook’s phantom touch across your skin, lingering like twilight hues. His scent is smothered over the bed sheets, so you bury your face into the fabric and just inhale deeply, already missing his arms around, holding you protectively. How can he go from being such a gorgeous, affectionate mate to some crazy, possessive Alpha overnight? He’s not the only one suffering from migraines at the hands of this relationship.

Reluctant to leave the aroma, you groan to get up, clicking your neck back and sliding from the cushioned mattress to your feet, barely awake as you meander into the bathroom to wet your face and brush your teeth.

“Y/N?” Jin’s voice echoes from outside your room. You hum loudly in response, prompting his entrance.

“You look well-slept,” he smiles slightly from the doorframe, watching you brush your teeth with hooded eyes.

You try to mumble a retort with a mouthful of foaming water, but the most you come out with is an indistinguishable grunt with bits of toothpaste spattering on the floor.

“Red Moon’s Luna everyone,” Jin applauds sarcastically, eyes glossing with amusement.

You spit into the sink, “Funny.”

“I like to think I am.”

You pat your mouth dry with the towel, wiping away the excess on your lips before sighing, “So what’s the plan for today?”

Jin slumps against the side of the door, crossing his arms over, “Well, Alpha gave me this phone and told me-“

“He gave you your own phone?” Your eyes swell with jealousy, focusing in on the small device your guard pulls from his pocket.

He softly retreats, “Yes… he did… he told me that I should wait for his text, and in the meantime there are some board games in the cupboard in his office…”

Your eyes are still glazing over his pocket, holding the small cell, “But your own phone…”

“Why is that such a big deal?” He laughs, but you can see he’s a tad unnerved by your obsession.

You sigh, despondently, “I wish he trusted me that much.”

Jin laughs at your misery, ushering you to get ready, “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Jin wins four rounds of monopoly, but you’re sure he’s stealing from the bank. Then he beats you at Scrabble too, and cards. Cheat, rummy, sevens, trumps. You aren’t particularly good at those types of things anyhow, never have been. And Jin seems to be some kind of a professional, with all of his fancy shuffling and smug moves. You nearly want to strangle him.

During one game of Cluedo, you fake going to the bathroom, to hide around the corner and peer out into the lounge to see him swiftly peeking at the result cards. You huff quietly, grimacing acutely at the sight in front of you.

“I knew you were cheating!” You jump out.

Jin’s head snaps up towards you, hands frantically recoiling from small pack of cards centre of the board, “What? Luna-“

“Don’t Luna me!”

“I didn’t cheat!”

“I watched you!”

“You were in the toilet!”

You continue to bicker like this what feels like endlessly, countering each other with even the pettiest of retorts, but you’re stubborn and he’s too proud. You, however, are also immensely lazy and can’t be arsed to fight with him for hours on end.

“Whatever, I’m sick of board games anyway,” you grumble, surrendering and taking a seat on the sofa behind him curled up on the floor in front of the coffee table.

“We could watch some TV?” He suggests, clambering to his feet.

“I wanna go for a run,” you announce, making him still, “My wolf has been cooped up for quite a while now.”

You’re aware it’s awkward, bringing this up after last time. But truly your wolf hasn’t gone for a run for nearly a couple of weeks now, and back at Scarlet Oak you were out all the time with Hobi or your father, or pack runs. Do they even have those here?

“Luna, we should wait for Alpha Jungkook’s text.” His voice is firm and official, and you hate how he’s so compliant to his Alpha’s commands, unlike you. You guess if you were at the butt of Jungkook’s wraith you might feel the same though.

You exhale deliberately loud, throwing your head back to look up into the spherical chandelier bulbs, “Well we’ve got to do something because I’ll go out of my mind if I have to play with a cheater any longer.”

Jin frowns, “So… TV then?”

“I wanna eat something.”

“I can do food,” he nods mostly to himself, turning gently on his heel and striding towards the kitchen. You immediately rise to your feet, taking a blanket from the sofa and wrapping it round your shoulders to pad behind him, trailing over to the breakfast bar.

You slide onto one of the stools, settling your elbows on the surface and placing your head in your hands, eyes scrutinising his every move like a hawk surveying its prey. It’s instantly clear cooking isn’t something new to the man, the way he glides from one ingredient to the next, effortlessly bringing about a scent that could nearly beat the one of your mate, lingering in your bedsheets.

You wait for some time in silence, watching him throw ingredients into a pot and slowly begin to stir.

“Do you like to cook?” The corner of your lips poke upwards into your cheeks slightly, blossoming beneath your eyes.

He shrugs, looking over his shoulder at you, “My mother showed me how. Said she doesn’t want my mate to be stuck with someone that can’t cook, like my dad.” You smile brighter in response, lying down your arms and placing your cheek to rest on the back of your hand.

“What are your family like?”

Jin continues to stir in the stainless steel pot bubbling on the stove, “Well, my dad’s obviously an Epsilon, like I am. And my mother was just a normal pack wolf, whose rank was raised ever so slightly by my dad. They pester each other a lot, but they love each other.”

“Any siblings?” You poke further into his personal life, enjoying the ability to pry freely, unlike your meddling into Jungkook’s family life.

“Nope, just me. I was a nightmare child apparently- enough to put my parents off having another,” he admits, and your teeth clamp over your lip as you let out a laugh.

“God, I couldn’t picture that,” you tease, tapping your nails against the marble counter.

“Shut up and eat your food,” he shakes his head, bringing over the pot and placing it between the two of you on the table then retrieving two bowls from one of the cupboards. “Hope you like soup.”

You shrug teasingly, before smiling at his grimacing expression and taking a mouthful. Your father says that soup is good for the soul, soothing for it. Then he’d make a joke about how it’s the sweat or tears of some chicken God which you used to pray to as a kid, thinking you’d be blessed with more chicken. It was a long shot, you always knew, but you still liked the idea.

You were always very prone to outside influences, picking up different habits and concepts from those around you. Hobi you took a lot from; the two of you think the same way. After years spent alongside each other, nearly joined at the hip, you became alarmingly similar, from everything down to the position you sleep in. It unsettles the food digesting to think about him though, where he is, what state he’s in. You focus back on Jin, who’s pulled out the cell-phone from his pocket to glaze over the screen.

“What is it?” You ask, bringing another spoonful of broth to your lips, “Is it Jungkook?”

Jin nods, taking a mouthful himself, “He says we should go down to him as soon as possible.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” And he begins speeding up with his food.

It’s mid-afternoon by the time you finish and clean up everything, bundling into Jin’s jeep with profound haste. You miss your mate already, his scent only lingering faintly around the house leaving you with just enough to want more. You’re trying hard not to become completely dependent on him, his love- if anything were to happen to him, you don’t want to be left empty and lonely, or just be too co-dependent either way. You value your individualism, and don’t want to be clouded by your wolf’s constant yearning for her mate, but it seems that’s easier said than done.

The town is quiet, as usual. Just a few pack wolves about a strip of greenery, hosting a BBQ for their families. It’s so unbelievably mundane you envy the whole carefree atmosphere, with some of the older wolves shifted and racing across the turf at top speed, whirring by like a blur. You sigh, resting your head against the doorframe of the jeep and running your teeth over your lower lip. You aren’t sure if life will ever be that same level of easiness again.

Reaching a meeting room in the pack house, Jungkook and Jimin are sat across from each other at a large oak table, conversing tensely over something you’re uninformed of. Jungkook spots you immediately, but he doesn’t smile, he looks concerned, agitated, and your stomach starts to churn.

“What is it?” You ask, blatantly. You can already see something’s wrong, and you don’t want to beat around the bush like he does with every other uncomfortable subject. Him and his Beta exchange a knowing look, your mate rising to his feet seconds later to come and greet you with a hand to your waist.

“Did you have a good day?” He asks, ignorantly.

You frown in response, looking past him at Jimin, “What is it?”

The Beta freezes under your glare, glancing to his lap as Jungkook sighs, pulling you closer, “We looked into the Hoseok case,” he reveals, holding you against him to soften the blow of anxiety that drains you of any other emotion.

Your skin pales, “Hobi? You’ve found him?” You swallow back the apprehension nipping at your mind, “You- Is he…” You try not to think the worst, but the whole situation speaks otherwise.

Jungkook brings you to sit down at the table, gently caressing your side, “He’s not dead.”

You can finally breathe at the words, exhaling and closing your eyes to restore your shattering heart at the thought of your best friend’s death.

Then Jungkook speaks again, “But he was seen by an Epsilon near Red Moon, with a man identified as Min Yoongi.” What?

It doesn’t make any sense. Yoongi with Hobi? You never even met Yoongi, let alone Hobi. Why on earth were they together near Red Moon? Why the hell is Hobi even near Red Moon? The last time you saw him was with your father in Scarlet Oak, perhaps upset you were leaving, but nothing insinuated he would follow you all the way here. Is that what he’s doing? Following you? But then why wouldn’t he answer his phone? Your head spins.

“With Yoongi? Yoongi as in June’s…,” you struggle to label the relationship, “June’s- June’s ex?” But June slept with Hobi, so why would the two of them get all buddy-buddy?

“We confirmed it over the phone with her today,” Jimin tells you from the other side of the table, pushing across his phone to show a text image to June. The picture isn’t of Hobi, but for the first time you see Yoongi. He’s handsome, of course. You expect nothing less of a boyfriend of June’s. But something about him looks so deadly sinister, his jaw clenched and lips pursed into a tight line as he leans against a tree, eyeing the landscape cautiously.

“What’s he doing?” You mutter, reaching for the device, but before you’re able to, Jungkook draws your attention.

“We haven’t made any correlations yet, but I have certain theories,” he mumbles, looking off to the side with a subtle anger burning behind his eyes.

You turn towards him, “Theories?”

“We’ll look into it more for you, and as soon as we have some definite answers you’ll be the first to know, okay?”

You nod slowly, numbly, unable to look him in the eye, enveloped in a hurricane of anxiety and panic.

“Jin, you can go home. I’ll drive Y/N back.”

Your mate guides you towards his car, but it all seems like a dream, the tension and confusion leaving you lost. He opens the door for you and you slide in, swallowing back the concern as you buckle yourself into the seat.

Maybe Yoongi is mad at Hobi for sleeping with June? Is Hobi safe? What if Yoongi dragged Hobi over to Red Moon so that Jungkook would deal with him? But, Jungkook wouldn’t do that, would he? Not after everything that’s happened- he wouldn’t do that, surely-

“You okay?” The voice brings you from your spiralling thoughts, like a soothing velvet to your ears. You look over at him, suddenly unsure how you feel about the situation – aside from sheer anxiety – and you don’t know if he’s telling you the full truth.

“I guess so,” you announce, exhaling deeply, “But it doesn’t make sense, why would they both be here? Why wouldn’t Hobi tell me anything? He didn’t even know Yoongi!” You know better than to expect a straightforward response, so the Alpha’s silence is what you settle for. You’re irritated and stressed, yes, but you don’t want to argue with him now. Not after today.

Soon enough, the car is pulling up in front of the house and you hesitantly open the door and follow an awaiting Jungkook.

“Is there anything you need?” The uncertainty in his tone depicts his own worries; that if he doesn’t divulge all his secrets that you’ll drift away again, and that gaping void that lingers in your past will break through again and pull you apart. You surprise him when you simply walk over to him however, and wrap your arms around his waist, his scent relaxing you as it always does, bringing you a much needed escape from the hauntings in your head. Your body begins to regain feeling, and you realise just how exhausted you are from the stress. You fall into his arms, and he’s quick to keep you up and steady.

“Do you want to take a nap or something?” He mumbles into your hair, but you press against him harder instead of responding, moulding your body into his and holding the front of his top in knuckled hands.

“I actually have something for you.”

He separates away from your body with a slight smile, jogging round to his desk to pull open one of the drawers and pull out a small box. You rips back the tape and pulls the top apart to reveal a little camera inside, with a long cable draping out the back.

“Here, I bought a webcam, so you can call your dad on the office computer,” he offers, looking at you hopefully.

You can’t help but smile, nearly distracted by the thought of seeing your father’s face again after so long. You speak on the phone with him everyday but it’s not the same as a face to face conversation, and you miss the way his eyes wrinkle when he smiles, and the lines on his forehead from frowning at books he doesn’t agree with. You can’t wait for whenever he’ll next visit you in Red Moon.

You eagerly sit in Jungkook’s office chair in front of the computer as the screen buffers and loads, till the screen pops up and your dad’s face is frozen.

“Dad,” you smile, seeing him in the lounge frowning down at his laptop like the old man struggling with technology that he is.

“Is it working?” He mumbles, faffing with the angle.

“Yes, it is,” you laugh slightly, looking up at your mate with an appreciative grin.

Your dad squints at the screen, grazing over your form, “Is Alpha Jungkook there?” Jungkook comes into the frame, leaning down beside you.

Your mate slides his hand onto your thigh and you place yours over it, “You can call him Jungkook, I’m sure he won’t care.” Full well knowing he would care, he squeezes your leg making you squirm with a small giggle, staring you down.

“Oh, of course, Jungkook,” your father’s voice resonates through the speakers.

“He loves it.” You tell him, Jungkook’s eyes still trained on the side of your head.

About an hour later and you still haven’t run out of things to talk about with your dad. You aren’t sure that you ever will. After hanging up you still don’t feel fully satisfied, but your thankful your mate stayed and talked to him too the whole time. When you were younger, you used to go to a school with human children, and as you grew up they all started dating and your friends getting boyfriends and girlfriends, and one thing that was always incredibly important to them was their parent’s blessing. It’s slightly different in the wolf world- you only ever have one mate and so for the parents to dislike them would be unimportant anyway, you aren’t finding anyone different. It still makes you happy, though, that your father seems to like him, that they converse over the recent football game and speak casually to each other. You crave your dad’s blessing, the same way those human kids did too.

You kiss your mate hard on the mouth once your father’s face is off the screen, holding him there by his shirt till you feel contented with the thank you. He leans in again as you pull back, feeling his hot breath against your cheek.

“Thank you for that,” you tell him, “And thank you for finding out about Hobi.”

He brings you to your feet to pull your waist against him, pressing into his groin, “I’ll do anything for you.” He kisses you on the lips again, then slowly travelling to your cheeks and down your jaw along to your neck.

You become entranced in the way he feels, legs nearly failing if he wasn’t holding you up with an arm now curled possessively around your back. He gently suckles on the skin by your collarbone, flattening out his tongue against the flesh every now and then to soothe the irritation, blooming into a deep purple flower on your chest. It's at this moment that everything comes flooding back you were briefly distracted from; Hobi, Yoongi, Red Moon, Rogues- everything.

“Do you think you’ll find him?” You pant, raking your fingers through your mates hair, still firmly attached to your neck. “I just don’t want him to be hurt and it’s difficult for-“

“Stop worrying.” He pulls back momentarily to mumble at you, then going back to the mark on your neck and grazing his teeth over the bite to send a rush of endorphins pulse through you, straight down to your centre. You instinctively convulse against him, releasing a choked moan as he outlines the small indentations of the scar.

“Let me calm you down,” he mutters, running his nose up your jaw and cupping your chin to press hard against your mouth, gently caressing your lips with the silk of his own. Jungkook’s heart rate picks up when you don’t protest, and you’re slowly guided to the sofa in the lounge, pushed over the arm rest onto your back, watching as he deliberately climbs on top you.

He wantonly kisses down your chest, his hands slithering up beneath your top to your waist where his touch burns like fire on the flesh. You can barely breathe as the fabric is hitched up to your bra, and Jungkook rims your navel with the tip of his tongue, sensually rotating his jaw to mark the revealed skin. It feels foreign to have someone so close to your core, gliding down so leisurely to savour every taste of you like one would a Michelin star meal, the excitement pools in your stomach and leaves you churning for more. The wet, underside of his lips falls down your stomach to the top of your jeans and he gently pulls open the button, the zip down.

You moan softly as you push up your hips to allow for the jeans to roll over your legs, your mate falling lower with them to slide the material from your ankles and you hastily kick them away. He smirks at your eagerness, but doesn’t make any teasing comment like you’d expect. He’s far too turned on for that, engrossed in your body’s ministrations as he explores your every pleasure.

There’s a moment when he looks at you from between your legs, a silent inquiry to pull down the white thong concealing your sex, and you respond by exhaling, lulling your head back and shutting your eyes to drown in his intoxicating touch. The small strip of fabric effortlessly grazes down your thighs to rest on your knees, revealing your core and you suddenly feel incredibly vulnerable, revealed, embarrassed. You attempt to squeeze them together, but the Alpha growls and spreads them apart again with his palms.

“Don’t,” he grunts, eyes burning with a fervent lust you’ve never seen before- you thought you never would see. You never believed someone could ever look so crazy for you, driven so primitive and animalistic by a hunger for your body’s reactions.

He suddenly delves into your cleft, tongue parting the sensitive tissues and plunging into your centre. Your hips jolt at the impact, an arm slamming against the back of the couch to grip onto the pillow as you struggle away, but his hold doesn’t relent, face still buried shamelessly in your centre.

“Stop moving,” he growls again, diving into the slick flesh with his velvet tongue gently pulsing against your clit to make your back arch and hips churn. Your body yields to his every touch, rocking parallel to his movements as his hand descends to your inner thigh, and one digit gently presses into your core. You can’t think of anything but how good it feels for him to touch you, taste you, eat you like his last meal. You could cry in pleasure, lost entirely to his silky touch, fundamentally possessive as he brings you closer to him.

“God,” you whine, teeth clamping over your lip to stop your squirming, your free hand now clutching the back of your mate’s hair to encourage his lubricious attention to your dripping centre. The finger gliding in and out of you with his sinful rocking makes you jerk suddenly, as it curls upwards to graze euphoria and the coil snaps in your stomach.

The waves of your climax rush over you in a scream-inducing, toe-curling orgasm that leaves you quaking violently, trembling as he continues to lap up your writhing cleft, tongue still thrusting against you and one finger stroking the sensitive bundle of flesh. It seems to drag on for an eternity, rolling through you relentlessly and vibrating you both as the tears spill unwilling from your eyes down your temples.

“Enough, enough,” you whimper, pushing his head back with your hands as he thankfully retreats, leaving the pink, swollen core bare and exposed to him; he’s never seen something so fucking salacious in his life, and if he could he’d carry on eating you till you physically couldn’t take anymore, unable to stand and sore the next morning. He wants to devour you.

As he pulls your pants back up your legs, you begin to come around, catching your breath and wetting your lips to see the raging boner beneath his jeans, looking somewhat painful to endure. You still feel a little high from your climax, and with a gentle pursing of your lips you lean forwards to the belt of hi jeans, but he stops you immediately. You frown, a little muddled as to why you can’t touch him.

“But- but,” you fumble over the words, “You- I didn’t-“

He smiles and interrupts you with another kiss, hands curling possessively around you bare waist to hold your form beneath him, “Baby, the second you put your hands on me like that I’ll lose it. And seeing you like that was enough for me to remember for later.” He winks and you bring your hands up to cover your face with an embarrassed groan, curling into his chest, vibrating with laughter. You’re crazy for him.

previous / next / masterlist

#moonlight #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook angst #bts angst #admin lottie

133 notes · View notes

rorykillmore · 4 years

Text

it’s @spearitsandmonsters‘ birthday today!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPEAR. as a gift, they requested an au fic for a dynamic we’ve been developing quite a bit lately, which we’ve affectionately dubbed villabeth. i picked “baby assassin villanelle breaks elizabeth out of her tower instead of booker”, which is an idea we’ve only loosely talked about, but something about it STUCK with me. so i hope i did it justice and i hope you enjoy, spear!!

and here’s wishing you a wonderful birthday <3 i know basically everything is difficult right now and while it goes without saying that i wish that wasn’t the case... i know that one of the things that helps me get through it and remember the good parts is talking to you and writing with you and having you for a friend. so i hope i can provide that same support and escape for you. if nothing else, knowing you for another year is absolutely worth celebrating in my book!!!

Oksana had expected someone pampered and spoiled, who might have turned up her nose or screamed at someone as rogueish-looking as her. Instead, Elizabeth is acting like she’s never spoken to another human being before in her life, and looking at her as if Oksana has suddenly become the center of her universe.

It’s a ridiculous thought, but it spurs another excited little flutter in her chest.

She doesn’t ask what her employers want with the city in the sky, or why it’s so important to them that Comstock’s heir doesn’t live long enough to succeed him. This had been one of the first in the long list of rules Dasha had taught her: never make your employers think you are interested in their plans or motives. Makes them nervous.

It’s Oksana’s first official job on her own, too, so she’s not about to fuck things up the second the Twelve have actually stopped breathing down her neck for five minutes.

A part of her wonders, though, if they’ve changed her minds about wanting her. Because for a first official assignment, the risk involved almost makes her think that her employers are trying to get rid of her.

She’s good, of course -- good enough to sneak through Columbia and up into Monument Tower without incident, but it had been far from easy. And now that she’s in, she feels like she’s breaching the site of a nuclear meltdown, or the cage of a bloodthirsty monster. When they had told her that the city’s heir needed to die, Oksana had assumed she would have to snatch her away from a life of luxury. She had allowed herself to begin to resent the other girl without even having met her, entertaining the image of some wealthy, ultra-religious, spoiled little brat who’d enjoyed so many things Oksana had never been allowed to even touch, had dreamt about stealing into some preposterously frilly and extravagant bedroom and smothering her with a pillow in the dead of night.

But this?

This is like a prison, or a laboratory, or something worse than both. Oksana fights to keep her hackles from raising as she stealths her way towards the last heavy steel door. What sort of person have they sent her to deal with?

She draws from her bag the replica key that one of the Twelve’s Columbia contacts had provided, and hesitates, weighing her options. She’d have liked to find a less direct method of entry, but her employers have cautioned her from making too much noise or disruption, lest she alert the tower’s unique security system.

So she’s going in through the heavy, reinforced door that looks virtually impossible to open subtly. Practically blind.

She doesn’t like that.

Oksana reloads her weapon. Whatever her mark might be capable of, whatever the reason she’s been locked up so tightly, it’s nothing that a quick shot to the head won’t take care of, surely. With her free hand, she inserts the key, which seems to trigger several other mechanisms within the door to whir and unlock, and then - carefully - she steps inside.

If it is a prison cell, it is the most impressive one she has ever seen. Oksana is standing in the doorway of something resembling a well-furbished library, like the kind you’d find in old castles or government buildings. It seems empty, so Oksana supposes that her target could be in one of the other rooms. Maybe the noise from the door opening will draw her out. Hopefully. Oksana does not fancy a game of hide and seek in unfamiliar territory.

Despite her mission, though, and despite the dedication and focus she is supposed to feel, curiosity tugs at the corners of her thoughts. She is not supposed to ask questions, and yet the pieces of a puzzle are set before her, and when she tries to put them together they do not quite make sense. Why keep the Lamb of Columbia here? Why go to all this trouble? What was with all the charts and laboratory equipment Oksana had passed on her way in, and why did they make her sound like some kind of monster in need of containment?

If she’s such a monster, why do they need her?

Perhaps it’s a terribly ironic question for Oksana to be asking. But she is an assassin, a perfectly crafted weapon, and that’s one thing.

She ventures a little further into the room, her pistol lowered but still held firmly in front of her. It’s only when she passes the staircase that she realizes something is wrong. A shadow moves out of the corner of her eye, and Oksana turns before she can process anything else, instinctual and immediate the way her mentors have always praised her for as she closes her hand around the girl’s wrist.

The girl cries out, and tries to jerk away from her grip. Once. Twice -- Oksana lets go the second time, so that she stumbles backwards and falls back against the bannister of the staircase she’d just hidden herself behind. Oksana is on her again in a second, pinning her easily and letting the barrel of the pistol dig into her ribs, her free hand now clamped over the girl’s mouth to keep her from screaming.

“Shh,” Oksana tells her, and she should end it right then.

Except --

The ‘monster’ has a much prettier face than Oksana had anticipated. Her eyes are a shade of blue Oksana can’t remember ever seeing for in her life, a little brighter and clearer than even Columbia’s skies, and presently blazing with rage or fear or probably both. She might be the around the same age as Oksana, or just a year or two younger, she has lovely dark hair that’s now just a little disheveled by their brief struggle, and she seems to be trying to bite the hand Oksana is holding against her mouth. Oksana feels her lips twitch briefly, despite herself.

“Shh,” she tells the other girl again. “Do not scream.”

Satisfying her growing curiosity is a bad idea. It will complicate things unnecessarily. Oksana knows Dasha would tell her to get the job done and then get out, but...

The questions do not count if nobody ever finds out she asks them, right?

“I did not come here to hurt you. You just startled me.” Oksana continues, softening her voice. It’s a lie, of course, but she takes a little bit of pride in how earnest she makes it sound. “If I take my hand away, you promise you won’t scream?”

The girl’s pretty eyes bore into hers, but they look less angry now, less scared, more... disbelieving? As if she isn’t quite convinced Oksana is real.

“Please?” Oksana tries, all but batting her eyelashes, and finally the girl nods. Oksana supposes she will just have to trust her. She lowers her hand and steps back, putting about a meter or so between them both, close enough that she can still move in if --

“How did you get in here?” the girl asks breathlessly.

Oksana blinks at the question. Then nods to the way she came in. “Through the door?”

She would find it funny, the way the girl gapes at her suspiciously in response, if she wasn’t also so confused. “You can’t just come in through the door, there’s no way -- no one ever --”

“They put a door there, then told you you can’t use it?” Oksana widens her eyes deliberately. “Wow. Really cheap con.”

“It’s not exactly like I have a key on hand.” The girl crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes, though she also doesn’t take them off Oksana for a second. “Who are you?”

Oksana opens her mouth to answer -- then remembers herself midway.

“Villanelle. My name is Villanelle.” A name new enough that it doesn’t quite feel like hers yet, but it will. Oksana already likes the way it rolls off her tongue. “What is your name?”

“I’m Elizabeth,” Elizabeth tells her breathlessly, a bit too trusting for someone talking to a stranger who’s just broken into her home. And for someone locked up like a high-security prisoner. The longer Oksana talks to her, the more bemused she becomes. Elizabeth seems so... normal. “You -- you’re so --”

Oksana is not sure what she was going to say, but all speculation flies out of her head when Elizabeth seems to lose all impulse control and places her hands on either side of Oksana’s face. “-- Real.”

As a rule, Oksana does not like people touching her face. Bad memories, and all -- from more than just one source. But this touch is gentle (and confusing) enough to give her pause, to cause a strange flutter in her chest at the softness of it.

She should be wary, perhaps. Anna had once touched her this way, and Anna... had not been what Oksana expected. Elizabeth is not what Oksana had expected either, but in a different way. Oksana had expected someone pampered and spoiled, who might have turned up her nose or screamed at someone as rogueish-looking as her. Instead, Elizabeth is acting like she’s never spoken to another human being before in her life, and looking at her as if Oksana has suddenly become the center of her universe.

It’s a ridiculous thought, but it spurs another excited little flutter in her chest. “Yeah?” she answers belatedly, uselessly, to break the silence.

As if she’s suddenly become aware that she’s violated some social norm, Elizabeth drops her hands and steps back, slightly abashed but no less curious. “Where do you come from? You sound like you’re from far away. Your name -- it’s French, isn’t it?”

“Latin, technically,” Oksana says, composing herself and quirking an eyebrow. “Like the poem? You must have time to read a lot of poetry.”

“You have no idea.” Furtively, longingly, Elizabeth glances towards the door like she’s readying herself to bolt. Then her gaze snaps back to Oksana, like no matter how taken she may or may not be by the appearance of a pretty stranger in her tower, she’s abruptly remembered that it’s a good idea to be at least a little suspicious. Her eyes drop to the pistol in Oksana’s left hand. “Why are you here?”

This is it, Oksana thinks. The moment where she shrugs as casually as anything in the world, answers ‘to kill you’, and finishes the job point blank. But she doesn’t move. The hand on the pistol doesn’t even twitch.

“Uh,” she answers instead, grasping idly for something that makes sense. “To rescue you?”

Wouldn’t that be hilarious. If Oksana decided suddenly that she would whisk this girl away with her, and then they’d spend the rest of their probably-short lives dodging not only Columbia’s forces, but the Twelve’s if they ever made it out. Oksana knows - has been warned over and over again - what the Twelve do to traitors.

Elizabeth seems speechless beyond words, so Oksana adds quickly, “Why do they keep you locked up in here, anyway? Did you do something bad?”

Elizabeth opens her mouth uncertainly. Then closes it again. Then laughs. “You mean someone sent you here to rescue me and they didn’t tell you that?”

“I didn’t say anyone sent me,” Oksana corrects her. “I decided to.”

Has she really? She watches Elizabeth closely, as though Elizabeth is the one who can answer that for her. “The security measures outside this room -- you would think they had locked up a mass murderer, or a radioactive mutant, or something,” she adds, a humorous way of prodding for answers while she thinks.

“I guess --” Hesitation laces Elizabeth’s tone as she answers. “I guess it’s because of what I can do.”

What can you do? Is the obvious question. But the one Oksana asks instead is: “People think you are dangerous?”

Elizabeth shrugs minutely, the look in her eyes unreadable.

And Oksana feels something in her soften a fraction. “I was locked up once.” Albeit in not nearly as spacious a cell as this. “People think I’m dangerous too.”

The seconds pass as Elizabeth watches her, until Oksana almost itches under her searching gaze.

“Will you leave with me?” Elizabeth asks finally.

Oksana gives her a rueful smile. “Where do you want to go?”

This had not been the plan. Can she risk what she’s made for herself for the sake of her own curiosity? For a pretty face?

Elizabeth exhales quietly, shakily, like she still can’t believe she isn’t dreaming. “I’ve always wanted to see Paris.”

How about for someone who’s a little like she is? Who, in only the span of a few moments of knowing one another, has made Oksana feel a little less alone?

“I have been to Paris many times.” Oksana steps forward, closing most of the distance between them, her gaze intense. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Soft,” she remembers Dasha spitting at her, “You are too soft for them, still. You need to work harder, try harder, show them how lethal you are.”

Oksana grins a faint sharp grin. Dasha would never have the guts - or perhaps the reckless stupidity - to do what she is about to do. She reaches out and touches Elizabeth’s hair, tempted to pull it out of his ribbon. Instead, she simply twirls a lock of it around her finger. Despite the unchecked contact Elizabeth initiated only moments ago, she freezes under Oksana’s touch, and Oksana’s grin softens into an ever-so-slightly smug smile. “Once we leave, you know... you would not be able to come back.”

She waits to see what Elizabeth will do, but Elizabeth doesn’t flinch or pull away or even waver. Her eyes locked with Oksana’s, she just breathes, “Why would I want to?”

“You haven’t seen the world outside yet.” Oksana takes another step. It’s another challenge, but Elizabeth does not back away, and now they’re so close that they practically breathe the same air. “You might find you would prefer your cage.”

“Did you?” Elizabeth challenges her, and Oksana laughs breathily. It’s a good response. She thinks maybe she will enjoy this, no matter the consequences in the end.

“Okay,” she says suddenly, and pulls away. Elizabeth’s expression dims slightly -- maybe with uncertainty, or even disappointment. Oksana wonders for a moment if Elizabeth had expected her to kiss her. Would she have been Elizabeth’s first kiss?

She somehow likes the idea of that, but... perhaps not here. So she offers her hand instead. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Elizabeth’s hand is soft in her own as she takes it, but there’s something about the recklessness of her smile that makes Oksana wonder if it’s the rest of the world that needs a warning.

#i wrote this operating under the assumption of #'elizabeth wouldnt be as immediately hostile towards a pretty girl as she was towards booker'#i hope i was correct.#also villanelle is a useless bisexual but what else is new #guess how many times i almost typed 'villanelle' instead of oksana. it was a lot.#anyway HAPPY BIRTH!!!!#i figured i might as WELL post this early since i had it done #and i figured you might be busyish tomorrow #fic

2 notes · View notes