#Also bc he knows nothing lasts he has a very work hard play hard mentality where ‘dying doing something you love. Like drinking’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junghelioseok · 3 years

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

1K notes · View notes

harrysgoldenline · 3 years

Note

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles headcannon #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles request #fic rec #harry styles #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles one shot

510 notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 3 years

Text

Xingqiu - Yandere Profile

I actually just got my sweet bookworm boi to his next to last ascension, my hydro baby, my angel, I love him even if bc of him I have to marathon fight the oceanid

I’ve had a lot of reqs for him & Chongyun dating back to January again lol but it only felt right to wait until I finished both so I could release them at the same time, so, Chongyun’s will be up immediately after this!

=======================

TWs: fem reader, yandere, confinement, manipulative behaviors, mentions of homicide, gaslighting, Xingqiu being a spoiled arrogant brat

TWs (below cut): noncon/dubcon, manipulating and guilting reader into sex, overstimulation, fluids/cumplay, humiliation

Since there's no canonical age but he has a bit of the rounded young face I'm tagging with the sh*ta tw as well!

=======================

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7 Brutality: 3 Physical capability: 4 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 7 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Tries to buy his way to you, initially. He's grown up seeing the power that money holds over people, and, well, his father can always just wave a bit around and get whatever he wants from most people, so why should you be any different? He goes for stereotypical "girl" things like flowers and jewelry at first, unless you have some prominent and well-known interest, in which case he'll invest in something related to that.

Honestly, for all his chivalry and all that, his maturity is something of a faux one, a sort of projected self-image of the gentlemanly figure he strives to be... but when he lets that slip, he can be something of a childish spoiled brat. The thing is... he's completely unaware and refuses to acknowledge that he can be so immature. He likes getting what he wants, when he wants it, exactly how he wants it, and being denied the things he wants isn't particularly common in his life. So rejection comes not so much as a disappointment so much as a shock. No matter, you're just... a brat, yourself. You think you're too good for everyone, he reasons, so you play hard to get.

Really, after recovering from the initial shock, he realizes he likes things this way. He likes challenges. It would be no fun if you came to him easily. You may be a brat, but in the end, the one thing he refuses to ever do is lose. Chivalrous gentlemen are fine with having to earn their things, so really, he's thankful that you reminded him of his morals, of his desire to truly earn the things he wants. It will make it that much more meaningful.

So he goes heavy on the idea of "courting", following whatever old and prudish traditions may exist in Liyue. If you're from somewhere else, he figures, that could be why -- clearly he hasn't followed through on whatever is normal for your culture. Silly him. He makes an effort to research whatever those traditions may be, and goes to the absolute maximum on performing them. Lavishes you in gifts of all kinds, constantly giving you compliments. He even goes to the effort of, if all else fails, reading romance novels targeted at women to get a better grasp of what exactly you're supposed to like, and emulates those behaviors.

Overall, though, in later stages Xingqiu slightly more mild for a yan, allowing you to have interactions with others (even if he’s irritated), such as his family, family servants, and his friends, and will even take you outside now and then. However, he will cut off your ties to those friends you had before that weren't mutual friends. He's also one of the least likely yanderes to ever kill someone, and will avoid hurting people if possible -- if anything, he prefers more discreet methods like ruining their life socially or financially.

He's also a lot more moody behind closed doors than he is to most people. His attempts to be oh-so-mature eventually kinda crumble, and the more comfortable he becomes around you, the more he lets his immaturity show.

He could assign family servants to looking for you, but really, he prefers to do it himself, this is about love after all, he doesn't want to assign them to a task they would never perform as diligently as he could. But rather than stalking, he chooses to just kind of... stay with you. He's somehow always where you are, "coincidentally" running into you everywhere and then somehow nothing having anything to do, because he clings to you for hours until you finally have to go home, and even then, he'll just follow you to continue the visit there if he can. No point in watching from a distance when he can be right there with you. And again, he's actually surprisingly unaware that his clinginess is so obvious, he's oblivious to how obvious his infatuation is. Which is a bit odd, considering that he's usually fairly perceptive, but he's so confident in the fact that he is normally perceptive that he allows himself to slip into abnormal behaviors without really realizing it, because he's not constantly on guard in the way some less socially adept yanderes are.

On a genuinely sweet level, there's one little thing he keeps hidden from you. He's actually written a lot of love poetry for you, verses about you and all of the things he loves about you so much... Despite usually being fairly confident in his work, he can't bring himself to show it to you. He's too flustered. And considering your negative reactions to his affection (read: not wanting to be kept like a captive animal), he is actually a bit sensitive to that perceived rejection, which further discourages him. He keeps them all stashed away, stuffed into some fairly hidden drawer. Should you ever come across them and bring them up, it's one of a very few things that will genuinely make him super embarrassed, and he'll just insist they weren't about you, even though the details make it obvious they were, and storm off, never bringing it up again.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's not kidnapping. It's... relocating. He's far too chivalrous to resort to something so brutish as kidnapping! He'll make sure you want to come with him. He can easily arrange for there to be rumors and reports of... occurrences near your home. Criminal activity, maybe false rumors of mysterious disappearances. Hell, he'll get Chongyun to testify that your house has demonic spirits in it. Something to make you want to move out. Maybe some things start happening to you -- you get the feeling you're being watched, you get threatening messages mailed to your home, you have strangers (read: randos who will do anything for some mora he gives them) telling you you're not welcome in the area and to get out. It's all incredibly confusing and scary and you have no idea what brought it all on!

Luckily for you, you have a rich, generous friend who makes it more than clear you're welcome to come stay with him for a while at any time. Eventually, no matter what it takes, he can push you to a point where you'll take him up on that offer. Something feels... oddly ominous about the way the gates to his family estate close behind you once you walk in. Like they're sealing your fate.

And once step one is done, step two of his plan goes into place - make sure you never want to leave. He can make that happen, there's plenty of space here for you to roam, plenty for you to do, and even when he's not there to entertain you, there's plenty of servants to keep an eye on you and make sure that whenever you try to leave, they'll smile and tell you you can't go just yet miss, there's this or that going on tonight! The young master said he had something important for you when he gets back later! You can't go out now, there was just an attack by some deranged person in the town still on the loose! Just... go back inside for now.

Of course, it's wishful thinking, but he likes to maintain the delusion that he can just keep this going indefinitely, that you won't finally one day put your foot down and tell him you've been stuck here nearly a month and you're ready to at least go visit home. He might even entertain it a bit - sure, you can go visit your old house with him and collect some of your old things to bring back with you, but he makes sure to make it look at though whatever problem he made up is still occurring. Nonetheless, if you're insistent, or at whatever point you finally crack and catch on, demand to know what's going on - well, it's not pretty. He gets into something of a tantrum if you don't comply, but ultimately, in his own little huffy, ticked off way, says you can't leave, and that's that, no more questions allowed, and no more of this ridiculous demand to leave. Of course, darling is taken aback at first, even thinking he's joking, but it soon becomes very clear he's completely serious, and intends to enforce that command.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

When he's with you, he's tends to be pretty clingy, both physically and in conversation, never ceasing talking about this or that, and he's actually a sleep-clinger as well, keeping an iron grip around your waist when you sleep. So, whenever he's at his home, he insists on you being in his presence, usually physically touching, so you won't really get an opportunity while he's just in another room or something because you can't get any privacy to begin with. When you're in public, he's incredibly watchful over your every move and incredibly clingy then as well, so don't expect such a chance to arrive either.

Thus, your best bet is to try when you're under the watch of guards, whenever he's gone for whatever reason. They've been instructed to watch you from a distance, you see, he doesn't want them interacting with you directly, so you'll have a few chances here or there where they get distracted or their backs are turned. There will likely eventually also be a time where there's a scheduling error, you end up unsupervised! However, physically getting out of the estate is still difficult. There's still posted guards everywhere. So all in all, it's fairly difficult, especially in broad daylight, the only time he's not with you.

When you're inevitably dragged back kicking and screaming by some poor guards that aren't getting paid enough to deal with this, after getting back and hearing the report he deals with it in that unnerving saccharine way of feigning ignorance to try and get a reaction. Now, he knows you weren't trying to get out... right? Surely you got distracted by a bird or something, right? That's the only reason why you'd ever try to leave, right? It's obvious he knows better, and is just fucking with your head, but it's best not to lie. What he wants is an admittance of guilt and an apology, preferably down on the floor begging for forgiveness.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Moderate, leaning towards difficult. He's perceptive, and intelligent, but that intelligence is largely a sort of book-smarts type of intelligence. He's generally crafty and a prankster himself, so pulling things over on him is difficult because he's familiar with the mindset and methods of doing so, but he can be tricked if you put on a believable enough act. Basically, a darling who is a good actor stands a much better chance.

However, he's ultimately a learner. You can get away with some tricks or plots once, but he won't fall for the same thing twice. Any sort of escape or deceit you've tried once, he'll make active efforts to guard against and prevent in the future.

Manipulation, though, you can forget it. He's way too proud and stubborn to be emotionally manipulated, in the end getting his way and what he wants takes priority over making you happy, so don't expect to be able to manipulate him based on the notion of something making you happier.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Fairly lenient, actually. You get a lot of access so long as your behavior is good, so really it's wise to be on your best behavior in the long term of things. He can get you anything you want, especially reading material. And you actually get to go outside, yay! He's like my earlier Childe profile on that -- he likes to go on dates, and he's actually really enthusiastic about it! He's big on date planning, wanting to see everything there is to see and do everything there is to do together. The rules are that you just need to be physically attached to him in some way -- you can hold his hand, grab at his sleeves, or he can do so to you (although he'd prefer you cling to him. He likes the image it projects to people around you). He actually gets really hyped about said dates whenever you plan them, he'll talk to you for hours plotting out all the things to do on this particular outing. At one point, his smile drops and his voice goes low and he tells you that, just a reminder, you know the rules for dates, right? ...Good.

Similarly, if you ask, he'll let you accompany him on more trivial outings as well, say if you'd like to go grocery shopping, and he certainly won't turn down a trip to the bookstore. The same rules apply, although he's a bit less excited for something so mundane.

One thing he won't do, surprisingly, is let you have anything to do with Guhua arts or skills. He won't teach you anything he knows nor let you learn, and if you were a follower of it before, he'll cut off your access to any material. His reasoning is that he just doesn't really think anything to do with combat suits you. You're better off learning more passive skills and hobbies.

In reality? He can't stand the thought of you ever being able to present a challenge to him in that sense. It would kill his ego if you ever managed to do something related to the Guhua arts better than he can, or even half as good as he can.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Well, to occupy your time, he has things that need cleaning you know... Honestly, he's messy, and he's already used to having maids, so he kinda treats you like one to some degree. Of course, he's active in his little heroism adventures, but when it comes to his own living spaces and such things he can be a bit lazy. So, he'll give you tasks to do sometimes, he likes the power rush too that he gets from ordering you around a bit. It soothes the ego.

Outside of your strolls together, you can't be going outside (and you don't get to choose when you do go on your little walks and dates, he does, although he may grant you the wishes of your begging). Also, don't actually try to talk to the guards. They're there to watch you, nothing more, so pay them no mind, and by no means should you ever have a reason to make conversation with them. If there's an emergency or something you need, you may inform them and get help, nothing more. And really, they're more afraid of this rule than you are -- you'll have difficulty finding one even willing to talk to you, they all take the warnings they've been given very seriously.

He eventually gets nitpicky and makes all sorts of little behavioral rules, it's incredibly obnoxious. But honestly, suffering his bratty tantrums is enough of a punishment, even if he didn't usually follow it up with actual punishment, which, for him, tends to be something perverted in some way.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He actually gets jealous rather easily, often over people who are no real threat. You can never be too nice to anyone -- even after he introduces you to his father and older brother, he expects you to be happy to meet them... but not that much. If you show too much excitement or happiness over any other being, he gets pouty, especially other men, but also your friends, male or female, family, even animals. His first reaction isn't to kill, rather, just an increase in isolation. Drag you back home and make sure you get a lot of time to yourselves, seeks reassurance that you really love him. If it's his own family, he might get grouchy towards them, snap at them a bit, bitterly drag you back off to your own room, where he'll then proceed to get equally grouchy towards you until you have given him enough reassurance he deems sufficient. In his own time, when you're not around, he makes sure to make it perfectly clear to those around him that they aren't to get in between you two.

He's one of the better yans to have in this regard, though, because he's unlikely to resort to killing anyone. He's got too much of his self-image invested in the idea of morals and justice to be able to do so, he can't delude himself into believing it's right or acceptable. It's not impossible to push him to that point, but it wouldn't just be someone you show any positive reception towards -- if Xingqiu did end up killing a rival, it would have to be one for whom you have very blatantly made clear you have actual romantic and sexual affection, someone who poses a genuine, real threat.

Xingqiu is a sort of open book when it comes to jealousy -- it's obvious to everyone around you that he's mad at someone else for even looking at you, and he doesn't try to hide it. It makes him that much angrier if someone doesn't obey his silent demand to stop interacting with you, doesn't seem fazed by his glares and coldness. He'll meet with them privately and make things clear verbally, since he tells himself maybe they're just dense and too stupid to understand. But they only get one more chance. Cross him twice, and they'll likely find themselves in financial ruin after pulling some strings through the connections of his father and brother.

What would make him significantly more likely to kill someone is someone who poses a legal threat, someone who catches on to what's going on and threatens to get him in serious trouble for it. Even if he tried bribing them, well, they'd likely just pretend to accept, and someone so bold likely wouldn't bow to threats.

This is where he can slip into the mindset of a delusional yandere. He once again projects the image in his head, that knight he wants to be for you, and hey, sometimes to save the princess, the heroes in his martial arts epics have to get their hands dirty, have to unfortunately get blood on their hands for the sake of the greater good. And hey, then it's usually called character development. Most of his fictional heroes tend to have killed at least one person in a sort of epic battle to defend something precious to them. This is no different. Of course, ambushing an unarmed person and running them through hardly counts as an epic battle, but he doesn't really take that part into account.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Again, a bit of a spoiled brat at times. He's pouty, gives you the cold shoulder, yet dramatically inserts himself in front of you and whatever you're occupied with so you can't do anything. Basically he's forcing you to acknowledge his pouting and ask him what's wrong so that he can pull the "oh, nothing" until you ask again, and maybe he'll eventually bitterly, passive-aggressively make it clear what you did wrong. The bright side is he's easily soothed - an apology and some groveling will fix his attitude pretty quickly, although he'll have an infuriating air of superiority about it all, telling you he's glad you were able to understand what you did and have, hopefully, learned to correct the behavior in the future.

Worse offenses, things that make him genuinely and truly infuriated, are significantly worse, but rather uncharacteristically for him, he's quiet. And that's what's do frightening about it - for once you almost wish he would blabber or complain or whine like you're so used to, but his fury is dead silent. He moves without speaking, harsh motions that will either shove or tug you to wherever he's trying to maneuver you, and he shows how he feels through actions rather than words - he slams doors and objects, stomps, everything about his body language is frightening enough to make you stiffen and jolt.

Thankfully, Xingqiu is a milder yandere when it comes to severity of things he'll do to you in moments of anger -- he's one that can control himself well enough not to severely hurt you, break bones or anything like that. When it comes to his flashes of anger, at worst he might slap you in his tantrums, but he has at least enough self-control and empathy for you to manage better than a lot of yanderes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Below. It's mostly that he thinks rather highly of himself - he's an important person you know. He saves people, he goes around doing his little vigilante thing, and he's not afraid to flaunt sometimes.

If you happen to also be from a rich family, you can earn a little bit more respect from him, you're cultured and sophisticated. If you're intelligent, you can get some validity in his mind as well. He'll still consider himself more intelligent and higher status, something you'd be mindful to remember, but he'll begrudgingly acknowledge it.

A commoner darling, though? God forbid an airheaded one? Forget about getting any respect - you're more like... A cute little puppy to him. Dumb and loud and clumsy, but nonetheless very cute and loveable. You were just... Made to be something of an accessory to him. And he loves and values you, you mean the world to him really, but that's all the more reason why you should accept your place as such.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

It drives him up the wall. You know, his father could arrange his marriage to a ton of young rich daughters in Liyue who would be more than happy about it, but he can't get the attention of ONE girl he likes? It's infuriating. And it makes him all the more insistent to have specifically you.

For Xingqiu, it's a mix of both desperation and a pride thing as well. One one hand he desperately does truly want his feelings to be returned, he wants you to love him, he wants the fantasy he has in his head of you two having a long, happy future together. On the other hand, rejection is also a mark on his pride, and that irritates him beyond comprehension.

So don't expect him to ever give up, really. Unlike a lot of loving yans though, he doesn't blame himself, he directs the rejection hurt outward - maybe you're just so spoiled yourself that nothing is good enough for you. Maybe you're just playing hard to get. Maybe you just think constantly turning him down is funny, it's amusing to you, and, well, he doesn't take lightly to you trying to play games with him. So while he'll continue to try and earn your love, don't be surprised if it results in an irritated mood swing every now and then.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

A lack of desire/hesitancy to resort to violence or more morally wayward methods. He stakes a lot of his pride and self-image on being a chivalrous, upright, just person, someone who should exemplify right and punish wrong, and unfortunately for him he's not a delusional and can't convince himself that he's doing the right thing. He wants to be a gentleman, your knight in shining armor, the storybook hero he projects in his head that always comes to save his princess, who in turn is receptive and showers him in praise and affection and gratitude. You're the problem, you see, you're not following through on your role in all this.

As such, he really, really hates having to dirty his hands in any way, or do anything that he knows is wrong and will consequently drag him into guilt. Not that he can't be driven to it, because he certainly can, but if it reaches that point, that means you didn't cooperate with him to begin with, which would have made things so much easier, so he'll definitely rid himself of that guilt by redirecting the blame to you, or deluding himself into some bizarre justification.

Another thing... his family's compliance. Honestly? His dad is far too busy and far too done with Xingqiu's shit to expect any help from him. His son tends to be picky, whiny, and demanding -- now that you're here, he's finally satiated, finally actually paying attention to the important matters his father wants him to be involved with, finally not causing nearly as much trouble now that you're around. You can bet he's more than happy to put in some extra funds and personnel to restrain some random commoner, so long as his son is satisfied. His brother doesn't really agree with it all, but his brother wants this and his father is supporting it, so... his hands are tied. He turns a blind eye. And the staff, the servants? They're getting paid far too much to care, and besides, the family is incredibly influential -- should they get fired, it could smear their reputation. It’s kinda really discouraging, being surrounded by so many people, but none of them willing to help you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Bounces back and forth. On one hand, he wants to maintain, again, a gentlemanly and sophisticated image, and in his mind, such people don't normally think about such things, don't behave in lewd or degenerate ways. On the other hand, he's a nasty little perv that secretly sinks to the absolute depths of depravity. There's not much he can't get off to. If his poor brother hadn't been so busy being concerned about the martial arts books under his bed, and had dug further, he would have found that those books are actually just a cover-up for a different set of nasty, gross materials he's spent years accumulating -- some of the most vulgar smut you've ever seen, stuff you question how he ever even got ahold of. Surely the book house wouldn't sell this kind of material... it's honestly a mystery how he manages to get so much.

With his first few interactions, he tends to display the former image, but the more time he spends with anyone, the more that inner little pervert side tends to come out. He's definitely one to get touchy, his light grazing little touches become firmer and more daring, his hands always rest just at a point that's right on the boundary of being inappropriate. Sometimes he'll straight-up grope you and pass it off as teasing. He's also like Kaeya in that he intentionally tries to embarrass you by making your mind go to lewd places, making obvious innuendos and euphemisms, then pretending like he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that... oh, is that what you thought he meant? Wow, you must have such a dirty mind, you little pervert.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Something like rape is barbaric! Of course he would never, eeeeever do something so awful, so unbecoming of someone like him. And he really never will. He's another yan that will simply... Secure your consent by whatever means necessary.

In the end he'll most likely guilt trip and gaslight his way into it. I mean, you're staying with him for free, he took you in, he feeds you and clothes you and you can't show one little bit of gratitude? He treats you like a wife and you can't fulfil your end of that role? Don't be selfish. He loves you so much... He'd do anything for you... don't you want him to be happy too?

He'll try different approaches. If seduction doesn't work off the bat, he'll try gaslighting, if that doesn't work, he'll try guilt tripping, if that doesn't work, he'll make up a bizarre lie - he has to have sex or he'll die, somehow! You get the idea. If you really, really, really push it, he may just resort to a vague threat of sorts - nothing too bad or deadly, but hey, it would sure be a shame if this recent market crash affected your family financially... Not that he knows anyone who has power over the local commerce or anything.

With a more timid, soft darling, you're likely to end up essentially... Dubcon'ed. Half-noncon'ed. He just kinda... Slowly goes for it, and at your protests insists no, it's ok, you'll feel good... And a timid darling too afraid to stop him doesn't exactly fight back or resist, so hey, silence is a green light.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Experimentation

As I've said, he's a nasty little perv deep down, and he can get off to, well, a LOT of things. And he loves to try new things out, no matter how weird it may be. He's one you can get into a lot of things involving toys and objects, or physical forms of things applied to the body (think temperature play, hot wax, nipple clamps -- anything that has to do with objects being used on you). Part of the fun of it all is having something new that he's never tried before! Even if it turns out to not be his favorite thing, he'll still enjoy the trying it out, and those things he DOES find himself liking, well, he'll just have to add them to the little mental list of favorites.

And he, honestly, enjoys the little reactions you often have to the notions of this or that -- the shock and sudden fear on your face when he tells you today you'll do this or that, and how you shake your cute little head so rapidly. It's not that bad, he promises, and he's done a lot of research and reading to be sure he does things correctly, so no worries!

Body writing

It's kinda comical because you can't make out a word. With his canonically horrendous handwriting, but fondness for the act of writing, it makes for what essentially looks to you like abstract art on your body -- but just know it's the lewdest, most degrading shit you can think of that he'll get all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. If nothing else, he gets off to it, and based on the little things he whispers in your ear, you know it's the same sort of humiliating things. If he takes his time, he can write better, but he gets caught up in the heat of the moment.

Lingerie

He's a fan of lacey, frilly things. And he will definitely invest in as many as he can buy, ornate and intricate things, stockings for your legs that have pretty lace patterns at the top of the thigh, bras and panties that are somehow both lacey and perfectly see-through. He's also a big fan of things that have holes in them for easy access, so you can wear it the whole time. And, if he's feeling meaner, he'll definitely have you walk around in just that for a while -- not out where anyone else in the estate could see you, of course, but in his room with him.

Master/slave

He's not a sadist per se, and doesn't really put you in pain, but he loves your submission. And no better way to exemplify submission than with service. The little bastard already makes you act like a maid outside of bed, but now he likes it even more -- there's a certain rush of power to laying out a command and seeing you follow it. Not to mention the cute look on your warm face as you follow though with the degrading shit. Oh, and you'd better believe he gets humiliating. It's not necessarily degrading in the sense that he says or makes you say bad things about yourself, but rather, just the commands themselves, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to him, and demanding you slowly strip down. Make it cute, give him a show, you know? He won't be cruel in the things he says about you, yet your pride is still wrecked by the end of it all.

Voyeurism/masturbation instruction

He loves to watch you get off, honestly. It ties into the slave thing to a degree, making you follow every little command, telling you exactly how to touch yourself and move your hands. He'll sigh and tell you no, you're going to fast, you can't do it that fast yet... and if you get too overexcited, he'll just have to make you stop, since you can't seem to listen, and maybe not get to cum until tomorrow, so you can learn to behave better about it next time.

Fluids/Cumplay

He has something of a fixation with all kinds. He loves seeing the trail of saliva from your mouth when you pull off his dick, the way cum drips out of you and runs down your thighs. He also likes seeing it splattered across your face, your chest, in your hair, something about the sight of it nearly has him hard immediately after and ready to go. But he also likes how it will gross you out, leaving you tied up so that you can't wipe it off, are forced to just stay there with it dripping out of your holes and down your skin in a way that makes you shiver. And, really, he loves your fluids too, sweet salty slick that's just so mesmerizing to watch coat his fingers and face. But his favorite thing, probably has to be running his fingers through your own juices and slick, collecting it on his fingers, holding it up to your mouth and telling you to suck them clean. Somehow, it's even hotter when you're licking your own fluids off of his fingers, although you doing so with his is certainly nice too.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’d like an heir one day. He's one to want a kid, maybe two, but not a whole lot. Just enough to have a proper family structure, much like the family he was raised in. It's the proper thing to do, he thinks, a natural part of the social order and continuation of a legacy. As a natural extension of his spoiled brat tendencies, he often doesn't think very responsibly in regards to preventing children, so, lucky for him, that ideal will likely come to fruition eventually, if physically possible.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Absolutely uses overstimulation. Whatever sorts of toys exist in Teyvat, he's rich enough that he can easily obtain them - little things he can attach to you and leave buzzing, or thick plugs and internal toys to stuff you full and leave you there to suffer in stimulation and stretching for hours on end. And he doesn't leave you alone, no, he stays close by, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, the occasionally lazy checkup of "oh, how are you holding up over there? I almost totally forgot you were there!" in a mocking tone while he goes about reading his books or practicing or jerking off to the sight.

Also ruined orgasms. Ugh, he's the worst. Gets you right to your peak, likely also after hours of edging, and then just... stops. Right as you reach the high, stops all motion, leaves you whimpering and sobbing, it's literally painful to actually reach it, and then still have that orgasm taken from you. And he'll be sure to remind you that if you were good, you could experience it in full, he could make you feel so good and let you ride out that high... but so long as you insist on being such a stubborn little princess, unfortunately, he can't just give you that. He hates this too, you know, he says. He'd love nothing more than to share pleasure, but you insist on being difficult.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Legs and thighs. He likes the aesthetics of legs, the softness, the way the flesh feels in his hands. The way touching them can make you jolt, the sensitivity, the way they leave little marks so perfectly if he sucks and bites at the skin. It's just really pretty.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere xingqiu #yandere x y/n #tw: noncon #tw: dark content #tw:shota

506 notes · View notes

arowrath · 3 years

Note

not a question, but rather a command.

Hand over the goddamn c!Ranboo and c!Beeduo headcanons.

OHHHH IM SO GOOD AT THIS ONE

ok . ok. ok. *cracks my knuckles* *stretching like im abt to play a Sport Game*

c!ranboo . he/they or no pronouns depending on the Vibes. doesnt label his sexuality. not a fan of using words to describe himself at all actually and uses pronouns just bc he knows it makes things easier for other ppl

c!tubbo he/they exact opposite LOVES labels. demiromantic + gay. (fuck u *arospecs ur characters*)

both of them r neurodivergent bc i say so (im writing (/thinking really hard about writing) a fic rn abt them being nd and learning 2 accept themselves n each other Btw im so excited) here r my ideas for their nd traits

ranboo is autistic. tubbo is also autistic. i think we should have more autistic rep in media

ranboo ocd. u will know about this head canon if u followed me last week bc my url was ocdranboo, which is a banger.

tubbo adhd. tubbo SO adhd. someone help him

tubbo also dyslexic. cc!tubbo is so it would feel wrong for c!tubbo not to be fhsjhdf

c!ranboo repeats words a lot to try to say them "right," can get stuck saying certain words / sentences again and again until it's perfect. he hates eye contact.

hes very texture sensitive n only likes certain foods for that reason, altho he cant always remember which foods he likes n which ones he doesnt. hes also very sensitive to bright light, both due to sensory issues + from being from the end which is darker than the overworld.

he also sees person to person interaction sort of like a video game and relies on trial and error to figure out how to do conversations "right" (right by nt standards).

in terms of ocd he has more intrusive thoughts n repetition n checking compulsions than anything else, no cleanliness ocd im tired of that being the only symptom thats talked abt. he always goes back n checks things n u can often find him doing things in 3s or 7s.

hes very prone to overworking himself and trying too hard to do things the way he sees as correct which exhausts him and he often works far too long at things like mining because he wants to do them right and he wants to get as many resources as possible (to prove himself to be a worthy partner :') )

c!tubbo is about the exact opposite in terms of getting things done in that he Doesnt. he gets overwhelmed very easily n it's only gotten worse as he's gotten older. he frequently has complete shutdowns bc of executive functioning issues n will just Do Nothing and hate himself about it.

however hes also very hyperactive and hyper focuses easily. any topic that is even slightly enjoyable he will spend hours researching, leading to headaches from sitting in the library trying to read and inhaling dust all day.

he masks a lot due to anxiety n tries to appear as "normal" as possible which is often a train right straight to dissociation.

he scripts out conversations with everyone but close friends and will go blank when someone goes off script- like if he goes to buy two lemonades and they say theyre out of lemonade it takes him quite a few seconds to process it, and longer to try to create a new script with the new decision, which leads to very stressful situations when talking to new ppl

he doesnt understand sarcasm at all, but ranboo, who uses sarcasm a lot as a way to blend in more with neurotypicals, is almost always able to explain what's meant when tubbo misses sarcasm

he also hates bright lights. he and ranboo have dim torches in their mansion with the only exception being the library, where there's much more light to make reading easier

he hates asking for help. hates it, he thinks it makes him weak, but it doesn't, and thats something he's still trying to internalize. he sometimes watches tommy for an example of a friend he looks up to ( :') anon u did not say "sprinkle in c!clingyduo" but I Am Anyway) who is trying to get help for his mental health to prove to himself its ok to do so as well

thinking about ranboo crying and tubbo trying to wipe his tears away so they dont burn him. also thinking about tubbo crying and ranboo wiping his tears and not flinching even though it stings.

ranboo listens to lemon demon constantly because he's cool. tubbo grows to love it even tho normally hearing the same few songs on repeat for ages would drive him mad

tubbo n ranboo keep michael inside to keep him safe but sometimes on snowy nights when theres nobody in sight and hasn't been in days theyll go outside and make snow angels and ranboo always makes sure to wear extra layers so he doesn't get hurt by the snow so he can spend as much time as possible with his son and husband

ranboos special interest was boats for YEARS and then it was mining and the probability of getting different types of materials while mining. tubbos special interest is nukes.

michael autistic + nonverbal. not technically a c!beeduo head canon but he is their son so close enough

ranboo favourite food apple pie. this is very important

ok ive been at it for like half an hour i could keep going but i Wont because this is already quite a bit fjhfks

#/rp #c!ranboo #c!tubbo #c!beeduo #headcanons #dsmp headcanons #ask #dream smp #maybe spare a reblog peepoShy #bbhsmp #text #21txt

61 notes · View notes

shoichee · 3 years

Note

teiko manager anon back ~ my juicy part 2 will disappoint bc guess what: we're skipping two years into the future. akashi never found out what happened, and by third year the gom were the epitome of cruelty. so reader picks a fight with them after meiko game, only to collapse out of stress after. they graduate, she follows kuroko to seirin and they train to defeat gom. but why is she so insecure and easily sad when gom is mentioned? they get their answer when they catch her overworking

oh teiko anon, so so bold.... really out here stirring the pot of chaos with this part 2 huh KEK alright folks BUCKLE IN YOUR SEATBELTS IT”S TIME FOR PART 2 and part 1 is right here ! part 3 will be here ! update: part 4 is here !

Akashi x Reader

Part 2

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

remember how I said in part 1 how Akashi would find out sooner or later? this would normally be the case, but in this exception…

you came back to school pretty quickly and restored, only to be in shock when Akashi himself confronts you about where you’ve been… like hello? YOUR CRUSH?? is? talking? to you? about your wellbeing?

here’s the thing, Akashi can easily detect lies through body language because he has an extraordinary sense of kinetic vision and critical thinking, but he’s still a human, not to mention… a middle schooler, and he’s not a true mind reader as some teammates would wholeheartedly believe

still, after some easy sleuthing he easily drew out confessions from some teammates who badmouthed you, although every single one were some type of half-truths and inconsistent testimonies that didn’t really make sense in painting a big picture

instead of incorrectly assuming things, he wanted to hear what’s been going on from your own mouth (keep in mind, this is still Oreshi, the guy who’s still cordial and wants to confirm this with you out of respect)

when he asks you some questions, he doesn’t detect any physical signs of lying from you, which only makes him believe that there wasn’t anything wrong to begin with other than you being under the weather and the other teammates saying utter nonsense either out of fear in his presence or using you as a scapegoat to cover up other delinquencies that he may have yet to discover

“(l/n)-san, I take it that you’ve been resting well? I heard from Kuroko that you were absent due to the seasonal flu.”

“Ah, y-yes! I’ve actually gotten plenty of rest and proper meals, so I’m back on my feet quicker than expected.”

“I actually also wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind?”

“What is it?”

“Has anything odd happening to you lately? Anyone who has given you trouble or has been uncooperative with you as head manager as of late?”

at the question, you only frown in genuine confusion before you answer no; you genuinely believed that these teammates weren’t in the wrong for “speaking their mind” and if anything, you felt like you were the problem in not being capable enough in managing your own job and your health in the process (despite being knowledgeable in health yourself)

because Akashi saw that you weren’t lying, he dropped it completely out of respect and asked you that if there was anything troubling you that you could reach out to him

oh how he was so, so close to finding out the truth

this wouldn’t be brought up ever again because you and Akashi only continued to grow busier and busier with your own duties; eventually, your fears came true when the Generation of Miracles had in fact “left” you behind when their talents blossomed too fast and left unchecked

honestly, you developed a horrible habit of overworking despite Kuroko’s and Kise’s constant checks on you

what do you know? of course the coaches and faculty members would ignore your opposition against putting the GoMs in every game; after all some of them had been quite dismissive of you already

it’s kind of ironic because if Bokukashi was the one interrogating you back then, he would’ve either easily (correctly) assume based off of the teammates’ testimonies alone, or he’d be a lot more insistent in discerning the truth of the situation and nipping it right in the bud to stop the “nonsense”

but at the same time, Bokukashi has a lot more pressing priorities than a few poor-attitude teammates when he has the entire reputation of Tekio’s legacy on his shoulders; anything pertaining to you never crossed his mind ever since his domineering side emerged

you were really excited for Kuroko since he was gushing about playing against his old friend, since his friend couldn’t make it to finals the first time // needless to say, you were also Kuroko’s mental support when he felt really down at that time

after Kuroko sustained an injury in the game before Meiko, you immediately accompanied him to the infirmary

there, Kuroko requests you to go watch the game and you only reluctantly agree because you wanted to see the game just to relay back to Kuroko just in case if he couldn’t make it, and you were still a manager with a job to fulfill; you’d figure leaving Momoi to watch over was sufficient enough

when you walk out the door though… you bump into Akashi, which is the first time in a while where you two were face-to-face like this; your heart sank when you realize that you had to accept the fact that he’s changed and allowed the distance to grow between you two

but a small part of denial makes you quickly turn and flee out the hallway, but you really begin to evaluate your crush on him as you scurry away; Akashi just stares at you for a moment before he enters into the infirmary where Kuroko is

you’ve distanced yourself from other people (GoMs in particular) in basketball out of denial of the fact you were really left behind (plus, you already dread attending to their games because it’s always a cruel reminder that you’re not working hard enough to achieve results of the same level), which is why reality slapped you in the face after the aftermath of the Meiko game… when you witnessed the full extent of their cruelty on the court

you were really hurt—in fact, you looked more distraught than the Meiko teammates themselves

especially, since the fact that Kise himself, who you thought of him as someone you can trust in, partook in this as well (this is actually your first time in seeing his cruel side in action, since he’s always been very sweet and helpful to you because he respects you)

you first confronted Kise when he was alone for a bit, sounding absolutely heartbroken and on the verge of tears; you shocked him out of his cold side and he immediately becomes a mother hen and asking if you needed water or a seat to calm down before you overexert yourself

after telling him your feelings about the game and your growing distance in the friendship, he sincerely apologizes for making you feel in such an awful way and tells you to let him know next time before a game, so that he wouldn’t suggest this type of entertainment for the game again.

you were in complete disbelief… the fact that your best friend suggested this himself? You dumbly asked for his reason, and he only says that you wouldn’t understand it because no one ever gives the GoM a proper challenge

even though he didn’t intend anything bad when he said this, it just made you feel worse, but you still accepted the apology to get it over with

the other GoMs come and you immediately become angry again and tension just skyrockets; Midorima simply looks away and says nothing, and Murasakibara and Aomine do most of the talking back/arguing… and Akashi only impassively stares at you

later, when Kuroko himself confronts them while everyone was walking in the hallway, you completely lagged behind on the group, tearfully staring at the backs of the GoMs and how you felt really alienated and unmotivated to continue being a manager for a team you don’t even recognize anymore

you grew dizzy again, and you knew your body was dealing with too much at once but you willed your body to at least last the trip

at least you gave a warning when you assumed that you were away from the GoMs at Teiko before you went unconscious; Kise happens to catch you before he brings you to the school infirmary

he does stay with you the entire time, knowing the reason for your collapse was all the extreme emotional and mental toll accumulated in such a short time; he feels absolutely guilty, and when you were about to stir awake, he simply leaves a lighthearted note and a cutely shaped bread before he leaves, knowing that you’d be stressed again if you saw him (around this time is when Kuroko confronts Akashi to quit the team, which is why he was nowhere near you at the time of your collapse/rest)

you felt better that at least Kise still sees you as a close friend when you see what he left behind

you still feel awful, to say the least

it felt wrong of you to quit mid-season, since you felt that you were simply giving up and further perpetuating the fact that you weren’t doing the most that you could

but you didn’t feel like staying for the rest of the season, so you decided to overwork yourself again to get the rest of the paperwork and training plans out of the way for the remainder of the games; you even left detailed instructions to Momoi in how to relieve certain pressure points and muscles for instant relief in case someone hurts themselves

a little timeskip where you decided to tag along Kuroko in attending Seirin High, but you were more reluctant in joining basketball again because you didn’t want to re-experience the stress and burdens in Teiko

well, until you made friends with Riko, and her story in how she was skeptical about basketball at first too inspires you to give it a try again

Kuroko feels really happy that you’re at ease again for the first time, but he definitely notices how you grow gloomy when the Seirin teammates praise the GoMs

you slowly relapse into the habit of overworking to “compensate” for your lack of contributions to Seirin’s team, but this time, every member DROPKICKS you to stop working and relax sometimes (Riko and Hyuuga are the main culprits)

even though you never tell them the reason for your poor habits, the Seirin team members just SENSE and KNOW what to say to make you feel like you’re doing more than enough to support the team in their own unique ways (Mitobe giving really cute shoulder pats and thumbs-ups… Koganei giving you slaps on the back and high-fives… Riko bluntly telling you to relax and giving you encouraging winks… Hyuuga being a roundabout in his praises… Teppei openly praising you… and Kagami telling you that you were doing too much LOL)

Kuroko gives you the SOFTEST SMILES (everyone freaks out every time he does that, it’s hilarious)

however, wounds slowly reopen more once again every time Seirin goes against schools that the respective GoM plays for

after every win Seirin achieves against the GoM’s respective school, each GoM would eventually learn a little tidbits here and there about your tendency to overwork and collapse and possible speculations of why, but you never confirm anything with them

even though you easily forgive Kise after the Seirin vs. Kaijo match (seeing how he interacted with Kagami and Kuroko in the park), for the others… you weren’t so ready to confront…

… particularly with Akashi

#knb #knb x reader #knb headcanon #knb headcanons #teiko #knb teiko #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #kuroko tetsuya #kise ryota #kise ryouta #aomine daiki #midorima shintarou #midorima shintaro #murasakibara atsushi #teiko middle school

281 notes · View notes

hee4won · 3 years

Text

exploring an abandoned building w/ bffs!en-

warnings: horror? maybe one bad word but other than that none.

a/n: hopefully i’m posting this after i’ve already made a masterlist 🤔 thanks for the likes on my first post btw!! <3

heeseung

i rmbr during i-land when everyone was scared of that “ghost” + heesseung was super relaxed but since debut he seems to have softened up so i think he wouldn’t mind showing his fear around you guys!!

so.. his heart would be pounding before u even get to the building

and it’s not like it’s a scary place either it’s just old and run down .. like a rlly empty old mall

HOWEVER! being the eldest he can not show his fear!! right?

wrong.

that boy will literally stay sandwiched between you and niki because

“you’re both really young and still have a lot of fight left in you” ??? Ok Heeseung.

for some time he actually eases up and enjoys going to different areas w the guys

and that’s when you and niki go “missing”

in reality you guys just snuck off to the old food court to come up with a way to scare the living crap out of hee

you two definitely were not trying to see if the frosty machine still worked 😇

details abt scaring hee will be under niki!

jay

you know what

i really don’t think jay would be that scared

scratches head

you know that little smug grin he always has on his face ?

yeah he’d have it the whole time bc hes the “least scared” out of everyone there

jay is actually in need of a hand hold, a back rub, literally ANYTHING

he just can’t show his weakness in front of you guys

sunghoon would be sneaky bc he can sense jay’s bluff and come up behind the poor boy

jay would flinch so hard he pulls a muscle LMAOO

and all of you were actually watching bc

there’s no way jay was pretending to keep his cool the wholee time right

yeah looks like you’re wrong again. 0 for 2

jake

holding your hand the entire time he has ZERO shame

he’s only glued to you bc sunghoon got tired of him

jake just woukd not let go no matter the circumstances

it was almost as if his senses became advanced when he was scared..?

like his eyesight would pick up on the tiniest piece of lent and he would flip

ALSO HIS HEARING ?

this boy could hear the rain coming in an hour before the weather channel 😑

overall he’s terrified and he won’t deny it at all he doesn’t care

if you complain he��ll say it’s your fault for inviting him in the first place (which is true)

sunghoon

oky i know everyone says this but he’s cool as a cucumber

UNLESS!! he hears something or “sees something staring at him in the corner”

we all saw him playing the vr horror game during i-land okay we know he’s a chicken

but if he gets scared he’ll freak out then act like it never happened HELP

he will literally scream and flail like a little baby then deadpan and say “why’d we stop? let’s keep going”

EVERYONE CAUGHT HIM IN 4K

but you guys know it will hurt his pride if you tease him so you let him be aww besties 🥺❤️

sunoo

why would you suggest something like this

it’s not like he was freaking out he was just confused as to why you would propose an idea like this in the first place

he said he wasn’t gonna do it 😭

sunoo is like.. “do i look like i want to throw my mental stability out the window?? i’m not going y/n.”

but you begged and begged and he agreed to RIDE THERE

he was staying in the car though

he actually lasted a while just sitting in the car until it started getting dark and he realized that he couldn’t drive

so he texted you guys to let you know that he was coming in

the whole time he was trying to find you guys he was humming to himself bc it would “make the ghosts too happy to be mean” ...

jungwon

had no reaction when you were letting everyone know about your idea

he was just like “okay, let’s do it”

nice enthusiasm jungwon 😒

i think he would have the best time honestly

and not bc of the exploring

he just enjoyed seeing everyone older than him freak out about literally nothing

and you better believe this boy has his phone out recording the WHOLEEE thing

on the way home he puts all the vids and pics together in a small comp w bg music so he can show you guys when you get to the dorm

it was very funny btw

ni-ki

oh boy

you two had the best time

also not bc of the exploring part

you guys had actually been coming up with a way to scare heeseung for a while now

bc he woke you guys up after you two had pulled an all-nighter

so yes this was actually niki’s idea

but he made YOU tell the guys bc no one would agree if niki had asked

poor kid 🙏

THE PLAN: scope out a bathroom -> you feel sick so you need to find a toilet -> heeseung goes w you bc hes the oldest -> niki is secretly following behind u guys -> you trick heeseung into checking a stall -> niki sneaks into the stall furthest from hee -> you slowly creep out of the bathroom and slam the door shut -> niki scares hee while he’s in there (keep in mind it’s pitch black in there once the door is shut)

and well the rest is history 😇

it was very successful btw heeseung couldn’t sleep alone for a whole week

205 notes · View notes

haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 3 years

Text

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe) words: 3.5k

a/n: ah the sweet sweet smell of mutual pining. also 3 more chapters are planned, not written yet though bc i just decided i’d be writing them lmao. hopefully can get started on that this weekend and post them next week 🤗

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie @oikawasbooty @chocolate3010 @sugawarabby @greenyiplier @kritiiiii @tokyosdawn @youstydiaa @h3llok1ttygirl

one | two

Chapter Three

“You want me to help you with what?” You ask, a bit stunned when he showed up at the door, a terribly annoying but also cute pleading expression on his face.

He groans, his shoulders hunching forward in exasperation. “Ya really gunna make me repeat it?”

You peer closer at the top of his head and see that he’s being serious. The roots of his hair growing in are a dark brown and it had never even occurred to you that he dyes his hair the blonde color you’re so used to. “No, but why do you need my help?”

This is so embarrassing. Normally his roommate or a teammate can help him but none of them are available today and he’s already let the roots grow longer than he likes. But when one of them suggested you help him out instead, something inside him rebelled. For some reason, the thought of having you dye his hair for him made him uncomfortable, like he’s showing you an intimate part of him. This hair has been a part of him so long he can’t remember the last time he’d let it grow out.

“I can’t see if I got everything,” he admits. It took a lot of pacing around his room and staring at his roots for him to get up the courage to come over here to ask you. He can’t really explain why he was so against it, especially since you don’t seem to mind after you got over the initial shock of realizing this isn’t his natural hair.

A wave of relief washes over him when you sigh, conceding, “Alright. Just let me change into something I can get bleach on. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”

While he waits for you, he busies himself with mixing the dye together so it’s ready for you, and when you arrive in a t-shirt and shorts with paint splatters all over them, he mentally kicks himself for thinking about how even wearing something so simple you still look better than anyone he’s ever seen. Crossing your arms, you motion for him to take a seat at his desk. Before he does so, he reaches behind his neck to grab at the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment, it taking you a second to process that he’s now standing before you shirtless and you’re free to ogle his muscular chest and arms to your hearts content. He doesn’t pay any attention to you, knowing if he meets your gaze, he won’t be able to stop the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. Instead, he wraps a towel around his waist to protect his shorts and sits in the chair to wait for you.

Except now, you have free reign to stare at his back, which is just as defined as the front of him and you need a few more seconds to reel your thoughts back.

“Whaddya waitin’ for darling?” He drawls, throwing you a glance over his shoulder, not expecting you to be standing there frozen, eyes pinned to his now bare chest.

He opens his mouth to tease you further, but your eyes snap to his and you practically shout, “Do you have another towel?” He just cocks a brow and then points to his closet where another towel is hanging on a hook. Snatching it, you return to him and drape it over his shoulders, hiding most of his annoyingly toned body. “Don’t want to get any bleach on your skin,” you explain, no way in hell ever admitting to him that you’re finding it hard to focus with him on display like that.

Absentmindedly, he hands you one of the clips he bought a long time ago, one that’s almost completely bleached itself and you start running your fingers through his hair to section it. He closes his eyes, focusing intently on the soothing sensation of your fingers on his scalp, doing his best not to groan out loud at how good it feels. With anyone else, this isn’t anything special, normally he sits as patiently as he can whilst trying not to annoy whoever is doing his hair (lest they decide to ‘mess up’ as punishment). But with you, it’s a different feeling entirely.

It's jarringly intimate as you clip his hair back and reach over him to grab the plastic gloves that came with the dye. Lathering up the applicator brush, you start slathering it onto his hair, trying your hardest to make sure it’s evenly distributed and surrounding each strand. As you do so, you ask, “How long have you been doing this?”

He resists the urge to shrug, not wanting to jostle you, replying, “Osamu and I started in middle school.”

“Osamu dyes his hair too?”

“Yeah, he goes for gray. But I’d heard blondes have more fun so—here we are.”

He grits his teeth as your fingers skim over his scalp, glad for the towel you wrapped around him to hide the goosebumps skittering along his bare skin.

“Let me guess,” you muse. “You guys did it because people couldn’t tell you apart?”

“That,” he laughs, “And we thought it would look cool. The first time we did it, it looked like shit.”

Your answering laugh warms his heart as you unclip a section of hair and keep working. “I can’t imagine your mom being too happy about it.”

“Livid. We got bleach everywhere.”

You laugh, continuing to move through his hair methodically. It doesn’t take very long as you’re just dying his roots and they weren’t that bad to begin with, contrary to what Atsumu thinks. When you finish, he gives you a sheepish look and has to swallow his pride to ask you to help him wash it out. Every time he’s tried to do it himself, he always ends up leaving a huge chunk of bleach somewhere.

You oblige, following him to the bathroom, not bothering to care about the looks you get along the way. If they want to stare at a shirtless Atsumu and then glare at you for having that all to yourself, that’s their prerogative. It does wonders for your confidence, regardless that all of this is a ruse.

Luckily, the bathroom is empty and Atsumu dutifully bends over the sink to let you start washing the dye out of his hair. He’s immensely grateful his eyes are shut, and his face is shoved into the sink to hide his flushed cheeks as he thoroughly enjoys your fingers running through his hair. The sensation of your fingernails lightly scraping over his scalp makes him ball his fists as he has to bite his lip to keep from making any sounds.

You’re unbothered, until you notice the towel has slipped from his shoulders and with the way he’s bracing himself against the counter every muscle in his back and arms is on display for you to see. It’s an effort to continue your task as if nothing is wrong and force yourself to look off into the distance instead of eyeing him up.

It’s no easy feat. Especially when you finish and he rises, scrubbing at his face with the discarded towel before moving on to his hair. You press your lips into a firm line and let yourself indulge just a little bit looking at the way his muscles flex with the movement, droplets from his damp hair trailing down the planes of his chest towards the waistband of his shorts and—your attention is broken at the sound of him chuckling and you snap your gaze to his.

You find him staring at you with mischief sparkling in his eyes, so you speak before he can tease you. “Is that it?”

“We have to actually dye it now.”

“Oh.” You turn on your heels desperate to escape his gaze. “Let’s go then.” A smirk plays across his lips, but he refrains from teasing you, solely because he very much enjoyed the way you were looking at him and doesn’t want you to stop.

And yeah—sue him if he thinks about your hands in his hair for the rest of the day. In the end, he might be a little grateful no one else was available to help him.

When mid-semester break arrives, it comes as a surprise that you actually miss each other. What surprises you even further, is that he’s the one to bring it up. Within the first night, he video calls you, a sheepish expression on his face, explaining he needed someone to complain to.

“What do you mean?” You teased. “Sounds like you’re getting stuffed with good food from Osamu and you have plenty to brag about.” You winked, smiling devilishly at him and pointing to yourself. You’re only joking. Slightly. You aren’t sure what will come about if he tells his family about you, or if that’s even a good idea. It’d be much easier to break this off cleanly without the involvement of each other’s families.

He sighs, flopping down on his bed and scrubbing his face with one hand. “They’re just dyin’ to meet you now.”

Your brows lift, half-expecting him to have tried to keep this a secret. “You told them?”

“I wasn’t gunna,” he explains. “But apparently some college sports news channel caught um—,” he coughs awkwardly, remembering very vividly this day, yet the two of you haven’t acknowledged it since. “Our—uh—celebration.”

Eyes widening, you stare at him a moment before the both of you burst out laughing. Between your giggles you manage to say, “Oops.”

Laughing alongside you, he grins, despite the pang in his heart at the voice in his head desperately trying to remind him all of this isn’t real. You aren’t his girlfriend and the moment all of this ends, you probably won’t bat an eye at him ever again. He hates how much that hurts.

Forging onward towards his demise he discloses, “I am now a very proud owner of a very jealous brother now, so thank you.”

That only makes you keep grinning, setting a hand on your cheek and dramatically saying, “What? Of little ol’ me?”

He fights the urge to tell you that yes—jealous of little ol’ you. The girl who is slowly becoming the girl of his dreams. The beautiful, funny girl who deals with him and everything that comes with him. He swallows all that, keeping the mood and saying, “He refuses to let me try any of his onigiri. A crime, really.”

“Of the highest caliber,” you agree, stifling your laughter. “Though I’m sure you steal some when he isn’t looking.”

“Yeah, but he caught me and hit me on the head with his spoon.”

“How dare he. Lucky for me, my family is clueless.”

“What do they think yer doin’ right now then?”

Shrugging you say, “I told them I had a project to work on with a classmate. Which isn’t entirely a lie, I do have a project to work on. But someone interrupted.”

He smirks. “Wonder who that could be.”

“Beats me.” His responding grin does something to you that’s been happening a lot more frequently lately. Making you feel like all the air has been punched out of you and like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Though, you’ve gotten quite good at hiding it.

In the distance, you hear someone calling his name. He panics, it’s bad enough his family knows about you now, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for them to meet you. Especially Osamu, who he has the sinking feeling is already suspicious of this. It’ll be a miracle if he can slip this by him.

“Gotta go!” He says quickly, and before he ends the call, he hears you chuckle and say, “Beware the spoon.”

Every day his situation only gets worse.

The next night he can’t get Osamu off his back. Enough that when he tries to retreat to his bedroom to give you a call, pathetically missing you again, Osamu bursts in when he’s about two minutes into the video call with you. He tries to shove him out, embarrassed and afraid Osamu will see straight through him. But Osamu is stubborn, and he hears you laughing on the other end of the call before saying, “Aww, Atsumu won’t you at least let me try to charm the pants off him?”

He grits his teeth, the thought that he wants you to charm the pants off of him, not his brother flitting through his head before he can stop it. But he relents, letting Osamu sit backwards on his desk chair to join the conversation.

He isn’t sure how, but somehow you get Osamu to believe this is real in a matter of minutes. You have him laughing and talking about culinary school and he almost feels jealous that your attention is now on Osamu instead of him. It’s a ridiculous notion, he knows it, but it doesn’t stop him from keeping the camera on him as much as possible.

When the call ends, Osamu looks at him seriously, and for a moment Atsumu thinks he’s just been pretending to believe you this entire time. However, he breaks into a smile and smacks him on the back saying, “Got yerself a keeper, there.”

Atsumu tries to grin with as much sincerity as he can. Yeah—he knows he does. But that isn’t going to stop this from ending.

That night, both of you go to bed feeling like you’re getting in too deep.

And as per usual, when school starts back up again, neither of you bring it up. You’re happy to keep ignoring it, hating yourself for liking this arrangement and him more and more every day. It sad really, how much time in your day is spent thinking about him. Wondering if there’s any possibility that the two of you could just transition to a real relationship. Because to you, that’s already what this is. Nothing would change, but at least you’d stop feeling guilty every time you enjoy his hand in yours or the soft press of his lips to the top of your head.

A few days after returning to school, you find yourself alone with him in his dorm room studying. He’s sitting at his desk, hunched over a textbook while you lay on his bed, head propped up by an elbow. You can feel your eyes drooping, the words blurring together, it becoming harder and harder to stay awake. His bed is too comfortable and smells overwhelmingly like him, a scent you’ve come to enjoy every time you’re pressed up against him. A mixture of his body wash and the ever-present faint smell of the volleyball court. Eventually you’re powerless against the solace of sleep.

When Atsumu notices you, his heart jumps into his throat. You look so serene and peaceful, your chest rising and falling ever so slightly, part of him wants to crawl in beside you and press his face into your neck and fall asleep right along with you.

But he too has begun to feel like this game has gone too far. The moment he had to tell his family, lie to Osamu, he knew he’d crossed a line. It isn’t fair to you. No longer does he need to pretend for his teammates that he can have a serious relationship, there isn’t a reason to torture himself and keep you tied to him anymore.

Yet, thinking about not being without you, no longer eating lunch together, studying together, or having you in the stands at his games wrenches his heart in such a way he actually feels like it’s crumpling inside his chest. He hasn’t been able to admit it, but at some point along the way, he thinks he fell in love with you. And it just hurts too much to keep pretending. Especially when you’re only doing this for peace and quiet during your showers.

For you, he shouldn’t drag this on any longer.

So, a couple days later, you texted him telling him you were in the library and can join him anytime if he wants. A harmless text, one you’ve sent him many times since this whole thing started, but this one makes his heart sink. Knowing this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for to talk to you. He tries to not think about it, trying to let volleyball take over his thoughts, but it’s futile. All he can think about is saying those words to you, and how it’s quite possibly going to utterly destroy him.

But you take it well, as he expects, squashing the hope that you might feel something for him too.

That night in the library feels particularly lonely. There’s no quick-witted remark from the boy who carved himself a place in your life, no one there to make you laugh when you’re struggling with a problem. Instead, you’re met with nothing but the darkness and silence of the library. It’s almost too much to bear, and once the silence starts closing in on you—you force yourself to leave, refusing to let yourself wallow.

The next weeks are hard. He never imagined that he’d think that after all of this was over. He keeps showering in the mornings to avoid you and uphold the deal you two struck months ago. He ignores the empty hole in his chest when he eats lunch without you, or studies late alone. The most jarring thing is your absence at his games. He constantly finds himself searching the crowd for your face, before remembering you won’t be there. He misses that intense gaze he could always feel on his back, the one that kept him awake at night when he let his thoughts run wild.

He feels as though something has been ripped from his life, leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind that seems intent on devouring him whole.

The same can be said for you.

Who knew you’d ever miss his teasing remarks while you shower? Or miss how you could complain to him endlessly about classes and then have him comfort you in the warm solace of his arms? Even the little things like walking to class together, now that you do it alone, it feels like there’s something missing.

The two you go on like that, thinking of the other every night before sleeping, tossing and turning with the thought of what could have been.

And eventually, you reach the point where you’re over it. Over pining after him day after day, peering out your door to make sure he isn’t around, or taking detours just to avoid him in the hallways. You’re over it. Enough that you’re willing to swallow your pride and confess to him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way—maybe you can fucking move on then.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you stomp to his dorm room, his roommate opening the door; his eyes widening upon seeing you. Immediately, he grabs his keys saying into the room, “I forgot I need to go to the store Atsumu, see you later.”

He leaves no time for Atsumu to protest, out the door in a matter of moments, leaving you standing in the doorway. Atsumu is just sitting in his desk chair, looking dumfounded at you, having fully expected to never see you again.

The gears in his head grind to a halt as you say, “This is stupid.”

He gives you a bewildered look, unsure what exactly you mean by that.

You steel your courage and press on. “I like you. And you like me. I think. And all this pretending that we don’t is stupid.”

After a few moments, his lips curve into a smile, the mischievous one you used to hate but now feel relief seeing. He can’t help the joy building in his chest at your confession. How many sleepless nights thinking about this very moment did he endure?

“You said it,” he teases.

Despite giving him a look, you do nothing to stop the grin rising to your lips. “Well, it didn’t seem like you were going to.”

His smile only widens, and he motions you into the room. “Get yer butt over here already.”

You move on instinct, striding into the room and climbing into his lap, settling your legs on either side of his you wrap your arms around his neck. The overwhelming sense that yes—this is exactly where you want to be, washes over you. He smirks up at you, his large hands resting at your waist, waiting for your next move.

“I can’t believe I actually missed that stupid smirk,” you say, lowering your lips to his, fingers slipping into the short hair at the base of his neck.

His smile hasn’t faltered, muttering against your lips teasing, “Does this mean I can shower at night again?”

A laugh bubbles out of you, but he smothers it in another kiss and refuses to let go.

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenario #miya atsumu reader insert #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu

305 notes · View notes

yakocchi · 3 years

Photo

Tonight, Love Me Kindly and Cruelly (Collection Event) // Count

t/n: The idiom is literally “Candy and Whip”, which is equivalent to the use of “Carrots and Sticks”. “Carrots and Sticks”, as in the idiom that people use to describe when one uses both the promise of a benefit and a punishment to manipulate someone to do something. random ex: a person says that if you let them stay at your house for a while, they’ll buy you a new phone... but if you reject them, they say they’re going to set your car on fire. well carrots and sticks don’t make for a pretty mental image so I changed it. lol

In common ikevam fashion, this is a collection event to coincide with the release of Faust’s Main Route. imo the route is doing a better job at showing his chara positively than Will’s route, but..... faust was never my type to begin with so u know LOL but im only on like chapter 12-ish anyway so yea nothing really significant has happened

anyway, i am pleasantly surprised that the Count got to partake in this one!! it might seem like a really long time since the last Count appearance under the context of this blog, but that’s only really bc ive sat out on covering Count-involved events (namely the AU scenario event w/ a shared route with Leo and the “caring for a child” collection event). i don’t think they’re super bad or anything (i actually like the latter for treading newer ground on event topics for once)…. im just chillin. ive never been a very active blog regardless

Spoilers under the cut!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*)

…

[Kara]: “ah-… Mn-…” In one of the rooms of the party venue— the air was stained obscenely by the breathless sighs of me and Count. With my arms pinned against the rippled sheets, my head grew lightheaded as he roughly kissed me over and over again. [Kara]: “nh- Why are…”

(Why has the Count become like this, I wonder? Until a little while ago, he was sweet and gentlemanly.)

Bewildered, I stared back at his golden irises, and a smile faintly seeped through his lips…

[Count]: “When I thought about you possibly being touched by those fingers, my blood ran cold. You do not mean to say that you do not understand my own feelings, I presume?” (‘Those fingers’…?)

…

I recalled something that had happened a few moments ago at the high society party we had been attending. I was conversing with one of the Count’s acquaintances when it happened:

[Gentleman]: “Oh, My Lady— Your exquisite ornament has shifted out of place, you know.” (Huh…?) Before I could fix it myself, the gentleman reached out his hand—

[Count]: “Indeed.” The Count, who had been standing next to me, hugged my shoulder with his arm as if to move me away from that hand. Then— [Count]: “How about this? Mhm, yes… Beautiful.” [Kara]: “Thank you, Count.” Of course, I also gave my thanks to the one who initially noticed it, but…

…

(Does he mean that time?) [Count]: “By the look on your face, it seems that you have finally realized it.” [Kara]: “Ah-…” Something resembling both sensuality and sharpness flashed within his eyes, and he firmly ripped the hair ornament off with a single swipe.

[Count]: “Well, then. I shall retrain this body— that the only thing that may touch you, are my fingers.” His fingertips trailed down my lips, my neck, my collarbones… before pulling down my dress, the fabric sliding off my breasts. Then, those very fingers touched the reddened peaks…

[Kara]: “-ngh, hah…. nh, ah-“ [Count]: “Do you make this same adorable reaction no matter who pinches you?” He pinched more forcefully, and my body leapt with a shudder. [Kara]: “ah-…! N-No, not, at all… Abel, please…” [Count]: “Really? I still have my doubts, given that your body so easily makes these dirty reactions...” While he played with my breasts, the fingertips of his other hand then slid inside the soaked part of me with a wet sound. [Kara]: “ahn… ngh, haah…”

[Count]: “I shall thoroughly train you, that the only thing that can bring you to ecstasy are these fingers. …And train you, all night.”

And just as he had proclaimed, indecent cries continued to fall from my lips throughout the night.

FIN

me thinking abt how this could’ve been the start to a veri sexi epilogue of a scenario event. next time, next time!!

this was kind of interesting bc the event actually places this one above leo’s (leo is the story before, which puts him at “4th place” out of 7 if we call arthur “1st”). this is weird bc even tho occasionally they’ll mess with story order not coinciding with character popularity if they feel that the story in question is more ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), but putting leo’s story that early is rly weird. leo’s story being given before even mozart is like…. wow someone’s not too proud of that story LOL ill be honest tho…. the leo story is pretty basic, past stories in the leo sexi man canon considered. well i get it – leo is not the type to take out his negative emotions onto others, which is more or less related to the theme of this event.

this collection event is only a week long, so im wondering if they have anything interesting lined up. man i hope so…… clearly they kno ppl who like the count exist bc they bothered to move his story up. but where’s the respect!! (jk… partly)

“You really do get a lovely look on your face when you’re with the other manse residents. …I am, just a touch, jealous. Tonight, let me have you all to myself.”

“(…) …I want you to like me very, very much, so I work hard to achieve that. Though it may appear otherwise, I’m desperate (to have such).” – Artbook-based Gacha Card

as always, thanks for reading!

#ikemen vampire #comte de saint germain #spoilers #ikevam #lol why does this site still have vocabulary f*lters how else am i supposed to write it

75 notes · View notes

humanlighthouse · 3 years

Text

Kitty Wu Xie AU

I have given up on making actual posts and will now subject you to conversations between me and @jockvillagersonly about AUs i will never write

humanlighthouse — Also, thinking in a much more innocent way about a dumb AU where WX gets turned into a cat by a curse or something and it's giving me warm fuzzy feelings

Can you imagine?? XG holding up a tiny brown kitten with fuzzy hair? Who swaps tiny paws at him and bites his cheek when he gets close? Kitten WX cuddled up inside of his hoodie? Taking a tiny kitty nap on his chest?? Sleeping together in sunlight??

And detransformed WX doing similar things? Responding to hair petting? Snuggling up in his neck? Napping together?

Also PZ would die from cuteness and overfeed him constantly

WX as a kitten is a WHOLEASS DISASTER though

He has broken about EVERY vase in Wushanju

Torn a hole in PZ's favorite shirt, that Human WX will later very badly but earnestly try to mend

jockvillagersonly — PZ isn’t even mad about it

Like he was gonna be

And the. He rounds the corner

And kitten WX a looks so PITIFUL

All big eyes

And PZ just melts immediately

humanlighthouse — When they have to bring him somewhere, he rides in the hood of XG's hoodie or in one of PZ's cargo pants pockets

jockvillagersonly — WX’s puppy dog eyes are ALREADY so powerful

They both have like ,,, anime sports show standoffs about who gets to carry kitten WX

humanlighthouse — XG wins, obviously, bc WX is very partial

But on the way home he sleeps on PZ's lap

jockvillagersonly — And PZ spends the whole ride home very smug about it

humanlighthouse — At some point, Kitten WX tries to eat something very bad for him that he likes as a human, and XG LEAPS OVER THE TABLE and tackles him

And Kitten WX hisses and swaps his tiny claws at him and XG just holds him in the air

Kitten WX spits it out and tries the puppy eyes on him, which work far better than expected, so XG sits back with him in the crook of his arm and feeds him stuff from his own plate instead

jockvillagersonly — XG can pretend to have at least some resistance to puppy eyes on actual WX, he can’t at all pretend when it’s kitten WX

humanlighthouse — PZ pats his shoulder when he gets up like I feel ya bro

jockvillagersonly — XG Looks a Little Shell shocked

humanlighthouse — His internal monologue is just a continuous scream high pitched enough to call dogs in Tibet

jockvillagersonly — This is only 1-2 octaves higher than usual

humanlighthouse — At some point they're on the couch and WX climbs over the back, head butts XG and licks his cheek and XG stays frozen for a good ten to twenty minutes

jockvillagersonly — WX has gotten bored, left, and XG is still just 😳

They get WX little mouse toys 🥺

He puRRS

Sometimes just from being around them like they haven’t even started petting him yet

humanlighthouse — He plays a lot with PZ

But sleeps with XG and is obviously super partial to him

XG sleeps half of what he usually does, which isn't much to begin with, just because he is overwhelmed by cuteness

WX putting tiny paws over his face when he sleeps

Or sleeping with his tiny fuzzy kitten belly up!

jockvillagersonly — How can he be expected to sleep!!!!

humanlighthouse — If XG had a phone his entire camera roll would be Kitten WX and then WX

jockvillagersonly — WX also yowls in the morning for food so they all wake up early

It’s his mental photo reel for sure

Gotta work in bastard WX

humanlighthouse — He bites visitors' ankles

When Huo Daofu is called in to help, he scratches his favorite leather boots

humanlighthouse — More on Kitty WX because I just spent the last 10mns goofily staring at my ceiling while thinking about it:

So WX gets detransformed and XG saves him from [unspecified danger] and WX grabs his hoodie and snuggles into him on reflex the way he's always wanted to do as a human and got very used to as a cat

Once the danger is over, PZ cuddles him too and WX makes a weirdass growling noise. They both pull back and WX is like I think I just tried to purr? Why can't I purr now, this sucks

PZ ruffles his hair and laughs

Later, XG is sitting on the couch and WX just. Plops himself down on him. Personal space whomst

And he realizes it a second too late and is like oh fuck woops, but XG grabs the legs thrown over his lap and says it's fine, he doesn't mind, so WX lays very very still on his chest for a minute or so before being like raaaaah fuck this and doing that thing cats do when they wiggle to get comfortable

It makes XG laugh and WX is like shut up being a human with too many bones is HARD okay nothing is comfy anymore

He naps on him :)

Later, PZ tries to wake him up with a little fishing toy and WX swaps at it before he realizes, then chases PZ around the house to get his revenge, by jumping on his back, claws out :p

He claws at PZ's legs a lot now, like they're watching tv and he makes biscuits on his thigh unconsciously

Or on his arm if they're at the table

The first night WX tries to sleep in his own bed it SUCKS, it's small but also too big and cold and he's alone and Doesn't Like It, so he grabs a pillow and goes to knock on XG's door. He says he could wake PZ up if XG doesn't want him there but he got used to it. XG just throws back the covers and invites him in. He doesn't get a single wink of sleep that night bc WX does, he curls up against him in his sleep and there is a very large, very human, very soft sleepy WX snoring against his ribs and XG's soul has left this plane of existence

The next day is very sunny and WX is laying flat on his back in the courtyard, soaking up the sun. He hears XG approach from further than he used to and calls him over. XG lays beside him and WX snuggles up to him with a hum of contentment. They nap together until PZ reappears to annoy WX with the fish toy, throwing it over him at some point. WX swaps at it then gets a little crazy and tries to claw at it, before turning to XG and throwing himself on his chest, face buried in his neck. He jokes that PZ is mean to him, and that only XG is nice. XG pets his nape. WX looks up at him with bright eyes, when PZ mentions (something like tuna) for dinner and WX's eyes widen of their own volition, which makes XG laugh. WX is like Betrayal! and does that thing where cat move a little way away and show you their back with disdain, which only make the two others laugh harder

Like 2mns later, WX returns and snuggles up to XG again. They have completely forgotten about the concept of personal space by then. PZ goes back inside to let them nap. WX is sprawled over his chest, noses at the skin of XG's neck gently, and on a whim gives it a little lick. He stops himself almost immediately and apologizes, but XG is beet red and blinking

He tries to get up but XG holds him back, telling him that it's fine again. WX says it was a reflex. XG pets his nape again, says that he knows. WX turns his best puppy eyes on him, which are still Very Effective as a human and XG melts. Maybe that's the moment XG kisses him? Very very softly?

#dumb au idea #we all needed the fluff i feel #not me ranting about pingxie and cats again #they're a god tier combo though tbh #you get a peek at what my awful drafts are like with this too #sorry

26 notes · View notes

sugacouture · 3 years

Text

Facade of the Heart [Ch.1]

synopsis: It’s 2145 A.D: technology is advancing at an unprecedented rate and lives are getting more convenient- but only for the rich. You’re fine with your job as a receptionist at the Jeon Hotel between 54th and Holly, but once the heir of said hotel business laid his eyes on you, he can’t seem to leave you alone. He’s an egotistical bastard who somehow convinces you to go on a date to a famous gala- promising a night that’s filled with glamor and romance. But as an unprecedented event halts you in your steps, putting both yours, his, and countless other lives in danger, will you be able to see through his wealthy exterior? Or will you succumb to the facade of his heart?

futuristic dystopia!au, enemies to lovers!au

genre: fluff, angst

pairing: jjk x reader

wc: 5.4k

rating: pg

warnings: mild swearing, sexual innuendos (aka sex jokes lol), sexual tension

a/n: i'm back, bietches. ty to @jtrbluv for the banner and reading over my fic <3 ur amazing and i hereby dedicate this comeback chapter to u. also ty to @blsourlime bc she left very passive-aggressive comments on my doc but it’s ok bc she was right. as usual. >:( mmm that’s it. i hope y’all enjoy!

Chapter One

After sliding a pearl-studded barrette into your hair, you check yourself in the mirror one last time. Your reflection squints back at yourself, scrutinizing the slicked-back ponytail and fitted grey pantsuit. Nodding, you turn away from the mirror, put your heels on, sling your bag over your shoulder and walk out the door. You lock the apartment door behind you and tap the inside of your wristband, coaxing a hologram to appear in front of you.

Hmm.

The transportation expenses seem to have increased from yesterday by half a dollar. You frown, raising your other hand to tap on the cheapest option. GroupLyft will have to do, rather than your usual Hover.

Before you order the request though, you pause. Would it be better if you took the HyperLoop instead? After some mental calculations, you swipe down on the holographic screen and walk toward the elevator. While the HyperLoop would take more time, it would be cheaper, you decide, and you need to save money anyway.

After arriving at the lobby, you politely nod to the receptionist and make your way out of the door, into the bustling capital city. Tall, sleek buildings tower over you. Hover cars lightly hum as they zoom down the road, their metal exterior shining faintly in the morning sun. You spot one stopping near the entrance of a neighboring apartment building and watch as a man climbs into it, suitcase in hand. The hover buzzes away a few seconds later, presumably after the passenger has given his destination.

Walking through the city isn’t too bad, save the occasional cat caller. The clear dome surrounding the city always reflects the sun’s light so nicely in the mornings, bathing you in a warmth that you seldom get while you work. Granted, there are several windows near your desk, but the feeling of a light breeze on your skin always champs the indoors. You tuck a flyaway strand of hair back to its original place behind your ear and quicken the pace of your feet, wanting to get to the HyperLoop station as soon as possible.

You spot a station entrance a few minutes later, a few flights of stairs leading up to the rails. Heels clicking on the plexiglass steps, you eventually make it to the top where you swipe your wristband over a scanner and enter the platform.

There weren’t a lot of people waiting for the train which was a surprise, given that it was a Monday morning. You brush it off though, preferring to mind your own business.

“What other people do doesn’t concern you,” you reprimand yourself. Damn— it seems like more often than not, you’re getting into other people’s business.

A robotic voice echoes through the station, announcing the arrival of the HyperLoop and knocking you out of your thoughts. “The eastbound train is arriving at Newbury Station in t-minus 10 seconds. Please mind the gap.”

You mindlessly take a few steps back as you feel the ground start to rumble underneath you.

“Next stop on the purple line is Jeon Station. Final stop on the purple line is Carnegie Station. Please mind the gap.”

The train appears and quickly shudders to a stop as the boarding gate opens in front of you. After entering a compartment, you sit down on the white leather chair and strap yourself in after putting your purse in the box below your seat. The doors close and the robotic voice echoes through the train, just as you feel the HyperLoop start to pick up speed.

“Next stop on the purple line is Jeon Station. Final stop on the purple line is Carnegie Station. We will arrive at Jeon Station in t-minus two minutes and twenty-three seconds. Thank you for riding the HyperLoop today.”

Some ad for dog food plays after the announcement, but rather than paying attention to that, you double tap your earring studs, morphing them into bluetooth earbuds. Then, you repeat the motion on your wristband, ordering your holographic screen to appear again so you can choose a song to listen to. After selecting the music, you swipe down to make your screen disappear, satisfied with the beats that are currently filling your ears.

Toward the end of the song, a robotic voice booms through the compartment once again: “We will be arriving at Jeon Station in t-minus nineteen seconds. Please gather your belongings if you are getting off at this stop, and have a nice day. Thank you for riding the HyperLoop today.”

That was your cue to sling your purse over your shoulder and unstrap your seatbelt. After waiting for the train doors to open, you walk out of the compartment and the station, down the stairs and out to the city once again. After walking a block west, you arrive at your workplace: the Jeon Hotel between 54th and Holly.

Namjoon’s head snaps up as you enter the lobby, so quickly that it must hurt. “Good morning,” he winces, his hand moving to massage the back of his neck.

You chuckle at his display of clumsiness. “Good morning,” you answer, arriving behind the receptionist counter. “I didn’t know all guests got that quick of a welcome. It would seem that we have very good customer service, then.”

Your coworker blushes. “No, I was just excited to see you, that’s all.” He tries to make himself look busy by clicking the computer mouse a couple times, which makes it emit distressed pings in response. Namjoon grimaces and gives up, turning to face you. “So uh, how are you?”

“I’m good— I took the HyperLoop to work today,” you hum, shoving your purse in a cubby under the desk. You straighten your blouse and turn to the tall man. “What about you?”

“I walked to work today, as usual,” Namjoon starts, fiddling with his suit jacket, “but I was kind of running late because my alarm didn’t go off, so I had to run and I almost fell into a puddle—”

“Kim!”

A shrill voice pinches through said man’s story and your head turns, spotting your stick-thin manager briskly hobbling toward the two of you with a few files in hand. As usual, the extravagant necklaces she’s wearing look like they’re straining her neck, which causes you to stifle a giggle. Namjoon looks down at you and suppresses a smile, too.

“Kim. L/N. I need the two of you to clear the lobby at 11. We have important guests coming and I don’t want anyone coming down to make them feel crowded or uncomfortable.”

You will your face to maintain no emotion, although it’s quite hard. How you got through your interview with her, you have no clue. “Of course, Ms. Tejan. How long should we clear it for?”

The older woman dramatically waves a hand in the air, only to say, “Oh, just for half an hour or so. The Jeons are just dropping by to check into their penthouse, so it shouldn't be too long.”

You look up from the computer in surprise, eyes as wide as saucers. Namjoon, too.

The Jeon family is a big deal. No, not your friend Somi’s family, but a different family entirely. They say the Jeon family runs one of the largest monopolies in the country, maybe the largest in the country’s history. Their booming hotel business sits at the top of the economic food chain, rendering all the smaller hotel businesses bankrupt. While there’s a lot of civilian discontent around it, there’s really nothing the people could do. By now, monopolies are a way of life: transportation, construction, utilities, etc.— each industry is run by a single family who has paid their way to the top. They stay by paying politicians to pardon their activities, or becoming a politician themselves.

But by the time the majority of the population knew what was happening, it was too late. Democracy is only maintained through the thin facade of a “federal government,” which only occasionally gives out pensions and hires the elderly to run social security.

Needless to say, the majority of money and power are in the hands of a few people. The wealth gap increases every day, along with brewing feelings of discontent. The lower class are getting tired of sleeping hungry, getting stepped on, and being treated as nobodies without purpose. The rich blatantly ignore this, though, which only fuels the rage of the poor. While there are no visible rebellions happening now, no one can promise that it won’t happen in the future.

...Which is why the Jeons are such a big deal. They have at least ten extended family members inside the federal government, along with a dozen insider politicians working for them. Their hotel business renders them as one of, if not the most,powerful family in the entire country.

“I’m sorry, did you say, the Jeons? As in—”

“Yes, yes, the Jeons. Jeon Jeong Gyu and Jeon Jungkook, to be specific, along with their security team.” Ms. Tejan flips open one of her files and starts to look through it, oblivious of you and your coworker’s shell shocked expressions. “Mr. Jeon’s secretary sent me an email this morning about it, as well as the details on how they want everything set up when they arrive. It’s all in this file.” She places a file on the counter of the desk, along with the few others in her arms.

“The rest of the files are on how we should handle the press and paparazzi prior to their arrival, as well as during and after. Even though you were tasked to memorize these during your orientation, I believe that you’ll need them. After all, it’s been quite a while since the Jeon family has paid us a visit.”

Your boss clasps her hands together in excitement. “Well, any questions?”

Namjoon is still too surprised to speak, and all you can manage is a small shake of the head.

“Great! They’ll be arriving in…” she checks her watch, “about an hour and a half. I expect that you’ll be ready by then.”

And like that, you and Namjoon are left in the lobby with nothing but a stack of files to combat the immense amount of attention that is about to be thrown upon the hotel.

———

“It should be illegal to give us less than five hours notice that the Jeons are coming,” you growl while frantically jabbing numbers into the reception phone. You double tap your earrings to connect them to the hotel system and wait for someone to pick up. “Especially if we’re low on staff.”

After letting the information thrown at you process for a few minutes, you and Namjoon had immediately sprung into action, sending out hotel announcements to staff and customers alike, asking them to stay out of the lobby this morning. There had been a few questions as to why, as well as a few protests, but the two of you were handling it as well as you could.

The fact that numerous people called in sick today only made it worse— the bulk of the work had been left to the two of you. Needless to say, everything is being done a bit frantically, but to the best of your abilities.

Namjoon isn’t faring any better, furiously typing away at the computer and squinting when the holographic screen occasionally glitches. “Agreed. No one answers their emails within two hours goddammit, and I can’t seem to get ahold of Ms. Tejan again—”

Someone finally picks up at the other side of your line. “Hello?”

You hold a finger up to Namjoon and clear your throat. “Hi, this is Jeon Hotel receptionist A41 speaking, I would like to request a full security team at the lobby by 10:30 a.m today.”

The speaker on the other line scoffs. “By 10:30? Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes, I am aware that this is very short notice, but it is imperative that your team arrives here by stated time,” you press, rolling your eyes. “The Jeon family is coming, and we were given orders to—”

“Fuck,” the other line curses, and you hear a faint crashing sound. “Y-yeah, yeah, we’ll get one there as soon as possible, just— hold on a second.”

“Alright,” you hum, pulling up the other computer screen. The hologram pops up and you start replying to emails regarding the lobby shut down as you wait for the other user to come back again.

A minute later, the other line appears again. “We’ve arranged teams K-7 and K-8 to secure the hotel lobby,” someone coughs,“and Team K-9 should arrive later to help with Mr. Jeon’s personal security with the press and curious bystanders.”

“Thank you so much— we’ll see you soon.” You hang up and tuck yet another stray hair back behind your ear, only for it to fall back down a few moments later.

Namjoon notices and snickers at your frustration. “You know, you should really invest in a hairband or something. Or a larger clip.”

You glare at the man. “Shut up,” you mutter, a blush crawling up your cheeks. “It’s whatever.”

———

After the arrival of the security team and a few more adjustments to the lobby decor, you and Namjoon stand ramrod straight as the two of you watch a couple sleek black hovers slow near the entrance of the hotel. A significant number of people are also watching the procession come to a pause, most notably those with flashing cameras and giant microphones. The hotel security had managed to section the public a few feet away from the doors, but nothing is guaranteed when a large crowd is involved.

Suddenly, the doors open and a flurry of people block the entrance, both to protect and assault the men exiting the vehicles. Lots of shouting is heard and you visibly wince, not excited to deal with the mess afterwards. Namjoon sends you a reassuring smile which you return, but everything flies out of your mind when two tall men in suits start advancing toward the reception desk.

The older of the two men walks with a strong purpose, his oxfords gently tapping on the marble floor. He seems the more relaxed of the two, with both of his hands in his pockets, occasionally taking one out to point at a piece of decor or to get his son’s attention. The younger man, however, walks with an air of authority around him— he seems more headstrong, ambitious, confident. His face is void of emotion as he takes notice of what his father is leading his attention to, only nodding to appease the older man.

They’re halfway across the lobby when your eyes clash with the younger man’s— in a split second, you hold your breath as his gaze possesses yours; a flicker of emotion crosses his face. Before you could analyze it, though, his eyes narrow, noticing Namjoon and the lack of space between your bodies.

Suddenly—

“Welcome to Jeon Hotel on 54th and Holly,” Namjoon softly calls out, leveling his gaze. “How can we help you?”

A grin breaks out on the older man’s face and he holds out his hand for your coworker to shake. Namjoon takes it, although a bit shakily. “Hello...Namjoon,” Jeong Gyu booms after taking a moment to read his nametag. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing well, thank you for asking, sir,” the younger man responds. He gestures a hand to you. “This is my fellow receptionist, Miss L/N.”

You lightly bow, feeling a constant gaze on you. Not Jeong Gyu’s, but his son’s.

“She and I will do our best to make sure that you and your son have excellent care throughout your stay at the hotel,” Namjoon continues.

After nodding in agreement, you notice that the Jeon penthouse is ready for their arrival via a blue notice on your computer screen. Scanning the hologram, you look up and exchange a smile with Jeong Gyu. “Speaking of excellent care, I believe your penthouse is ready, sir. Would you like some refreshments delivered up to your room beforehand? Sandwiches? Cocktails?”

Before Jeong Gyu could reply, though, his son cut him off. “Yes, please,” he murmurs, catching your gaze once again. You freeze.

He’s inches away from your face, way too close for comfort, but you can’t seem to back away. Something dark is swirling in those hazel irises— something untamed. Something you want to tame.

Shit.

Back away, back away, be professional, get back on track, stop staring—

Thankfully, professionalism is embedded into your blood so you gently smile, knocking yourself out of your stupor. “Of course, Mr. Jeon. Is there a refreshment you had—”

“Jungkook,” he interrupts again, gaze unwavering. “Please, call me Jungkook.”

You swallow. “Yeah. Sure. S-so uh, Jungkook-ssi, was there a refreshment that you had in mind?”

The corners of his mouth quirks up and you almost melt, your legs starting to tremble. Not only from embarrassment, but also from fear.

This man can snap his slender fingers and your life could be improved— or ruined. You could only hope that it was the former that might happen, not the latter. Everything is out of your hands.

The ball is always in his court.

Which is one thing you hate about him. You hate that he always has the upper hand, the final call, the power— you can’t deny him of anything without risking your job or, god forbid, your life. And he flaunts it, too. He gloats his wealth, his money, thinking that it makes him the most eligible bachelor in the world. And while he is undeniably good looking, that doesn’t mean you have an aching impulse to smack the side of his chiseled face.

You think he got the wrong message though, since Jungkook’s hazel eyes fill with amusement as he takes in your affected state, seemingly pleased with himself. Namjoon shoots you a concerned glance, though; his hand discreetly hovering above your waist in case you fall.

He wasn’t discreet enough, it seems, as Jungkook spots the movement and the amusement in his eyes flickers away, replaced with something hard and closed. Not one to be deterred, he continues. “Why don’t you surprise me, Miss L/N? I’m sure you can handle it.”

You nod, your head moving a bit jerkily. Clearing your throat, “Yes, I can. I’ll have it sent up right away.”

Jungkook hums. “No.”

You blink in surprise, hand wavering above the room service icon on your screen. “Excuse me, what?”

Bruh, does this pretentious brat want his stupid food or not?

“I said no,” the taller man continues while inspecting a button on his suit. “I would like you to personally deliver it to my penthouse, instead of room service.”

Jaw dropping, you sneak a glance to Namjoon who seems equally as shocked. “I-”

“...If that’s alright with you,” Jeong Gyu cuts in. You had almost forgotten he was there. The old man shoots you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, dear. My son can get carried away with, uh, his ambitions quite often. He doesn’t mean to be imposing.” He turns and pats Jungkook on the cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

The heir rolls his eyes and finally backs away from you, seemingly annoyed. He grumbles his apologies under his breath and shakes off his father’s hand, eyes narrowed.

You, on the other hand, are taking full advantage of the personal space that has been given back to you. After taking a few deep breaths, you put on your customer service smile and make it as genuine as you can. “It’s quite alright, Mr. Jeon. I’ll personally deliver the refreshments up to your penthouse, as Jungkook-ssi has requested.”

A brilliant grin appears on Jungkook’s face. “Great. I’ll see you in a few.”

That rich bastard has the audacity to give you a wink before sauntering away with a smug look on his face. His father slightly bows and, after you and Namjoon both return it, walks toward the elevator to where his son is standing, his oxfords echoing on the floor.

You also can’t help but notice how good Jungkook’s ass looks as he walks away.

Once the men are out of earshot, you shudder. “Oh my god,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. “I should be promoted with all the patience I have for Jeon Jungkook.”

Namjoon hums in agreement, looking a bit shaken as well. “That was probably one of the most life-threatening moments you will ever have,” he adds solemnly, running his hand through his hair. “But when he asked you to personally deliver his food? Christ, Y/N, I don’t know how you did it.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “I guess customer service is just really good at the Jeon Hotels,” you appeal, “especially the one between 54th and Holly.”

———

Ding.

The elevator doors open and you step in, swiping your wristband on the scanner and pressing the number 88. A few seconds later, the doors close and you feel the elevator pick up speed, zooming to your destination.

As you wait, you look down at the meal cart in front of you. Duck foie gras, Iberico ham, and caviar in a small dish stare back at you in their $10,000 glory, along with the small stack of raspberry macarons and plates of dark chocolate souffle.

“Rich people,” you mock under your breath, pursing your lips in annoyance. “Refreshments? Oh yeah, I’ll just have a few caviar on a cracker. $200 for a snack? Oh sure, why not.”

Without a second thought, you take one of the macarons and pop it into your mouth, just to be petty. After swallowing, you come to realize what you’ve done and a feeling akin to horror dawns upon you.

But then you realize that no one (except you) knows how many macarons were there in the first place.

So you laugh.

Wiping your mouth, you check what floor you’re on.

Nearly there.

At last, the elevator doors open and you’re greeted with white leather couches and bearskin rugs; a wet bar sits in the corner and a gigantic kitchen peeks to your right. Stepping into the penthouse, you immediately feel uncomfortable and out of place.

Nevertheless, you have to do your job and deliver the damn food.

“Hello?” You call out, trying to find someone. “It’s Miss L/N from reception— I have the refreshments you’ve requested.”

“In the kitchen,” a voice calls out, “behind the sink.”

Pushing the cart around the corner, you see Jungkook at a counter next to the sink with a laptop and a pile of files beside it. He looks up and gives you a smile, spotting the cart. “Ah, food is here.” The tall man stands up and stalks toward you, never taking his eyes off your chest. You inwardly scoff but maintain a smiling exterior, reminding yourself that this was your job— you had to do this.

You had to do this even though goddamn, he looks like a five course meal with those rolled-up sleeves and tightly-fitted slacks. Oh my god, are those his thighs?

(Not to mention your inner demon that’s practically squealing at the fact that he’s looking at your breasts.)

“Yes, I’ve brought your refreshments,” you say through gritted teeth, still discreetly ogling him. “Is there anything else I can get for you before I leave?”

“Hmm, I think so,” the heir murmurs, sliding the cart away from you. You shiver as he stalks forward, maintaining eye contact. “I would like to get something else from you.”

You feel your legs turning into mush. Clearing your throat, you look away. “A-and what might that be?”

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour.

You also feel your heart is tearing as he speaks, his soothing tenor voice flowing around your body like silk. To fight or fly, is the question. Or, to stay and give in.

Jungkook uses his hand to tilt yours back up, forcing you to regain eye contact. His eyes wander to your lips and you instinctively lick them, Jungkook’s eyes flashing back to yours. Slowly but surely, he lessens the space between you two until he’s so close that you can feel the heat of his mouth. You lean forward too, throwing your inhibitions into the wind and tasting his breath.

Your noses are touching; his gaze is unwavering.

Alarms go off in your head.

You jerkily step back, accidentally knocking his nose with your head in the process. The heir yelps in pain and winces in pain, officially ruining the moment. “Sorry,” you blurt out, heat rushing to your face.

Jungkook wipes his nose with his hand. “What the hell?” he grumbles, confused. “I thought you were into me or something.”

His hand comes off with a dot of red and you pale. “Fuck,” you mutter, springing into action. You guide the man-child to the kitchen stool where you push him down, forcing him to sit on the white plush.

“What—”

Scanning the kitchen, you spot a roll of paper towels and rip a piece off then tear it into smaller squares. You take a small square and roll it up so it’s small enough to fit into Jungkook’s nostril.

Looking up to check on him, it seems that he’s finally discovered that there’s blood dripping from his nose. His eyes are wide as saucers as he looks at his bloodied hand in surprise.

By now, there’s a few drops of blood on his crisp white dress shirt and you hiss in annoyance, hating to see something so pure and clean dirtied. Ignoring your impulse to tear off Jungkook’s shirt and clean it right away, you gently nudge the paper towel roll into his nose so that it absorbs the blood as it flows. Satisfied, you check his face for other injuries.

Other than his extreme expression of confusion and shock, he looks fine.

“You have a bloody nose,” you carefully explain, watching his face. “Blood spilled a bit on your shirt, but you’re fine.”

“Oh,” is all he says, softly. “I see.”

You heft yourself up on a neighboring stool, facing him. The two of you sit in an awkward silence for a bit, replaying the series of events that just went down in your minds. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat and touches the towel in his nose. “So uh, is that how you always reject guys?”

You blink. “I’m sorry?”

The man huffs frustratedly which, strangely enough, reminds you of an angry child. “I mean, do you always injure men after leading them on? Or women,” he adds, “if you swing that way.”

Blushing, you shake your head. “Um, no, I don’t usually um,” you mutter, “injure men, I mean. When I’m into them. Or for any reason. Unless it’s for self-defense or whatever.”

Oh my god, just shut up.

You wince. “It was sort of just a knee-jerk reaction I had. Sorry.”

“Oh,” he says again. A pause.

You can see the gears turning in his brain.

“So… does that mean you wanna go out with me?” Jungkook tries, hopeful.

“Ah,” you begin, “you see, the thing is—”

He interrupts. “Was that other receptionist your boyfriend?”

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s just...I don’t have time to date. Sorry.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was kind of lazy. Ingenuine. You didn’t bother explaining anything, and telling the truth wouldn’t be quite a good idea, either. Imagine: yeah, I can’t date you because I kind of hate the entire thing your family has going on with the country-domination type beat and I have to uphold my beliefs even though you’re insanely mouthwatering hot and can imagine you pinning me down on my bed. Sorry bubs.

So the dumb little lie will have to do.

“What about, just one date,” Jungkook presses on, eyes lighting up. “Please, Y/N? Just one date?”

“Jungkook—”

“Hear me out, okay?” he pleads, holding your gaze. You reluctantly nod and he grins while ripping the bloodied paper towel roll out of his nose. “Okay so, there’s this gala thing coming up, right? And there’s going to be some people there, no big deal—”

You watch as he shoves another roll into his nose as he continues to animatedly talk about your maybe-date with him. “—but we don’t have to talk to others if you don’t want to. I just have to check in and tell them I’m there, for like, attendance purposes or whatever, and it doesn’t really matter ‘cus it’s my dad’s thing—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, a realization dawning upon you, “is this the June Gala you’re talking about?”

The man stops moving, staring at you uneasily. “Uh, maybe?”

You immediately shake your head. “No. No way. There’s going to be way too many important people there— it’s going to be scary as hell. No.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook whines. “C’mon, you don’t have to meet anyone, it’s just a bunch of fancy people anyway—”

“Fancy people,” you comment, “don’t eat small businesses for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and teatime. Fancy people,” you emphasize, your voice getting louder in volume, “don’t plan to kill people who oppose them.”

A weighted silence fills the air when you finish your rant and you feel a tinge of fear shiver up your spine. Did you just out yourself to the son of the most powerful man in the country?

“I see,” Jungkook says slowly, as if he doesn’t want to frighten you. “So your heart is set on not going?”

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “I’m afraid so. It’s just too risky— I hope you understand. People who attend the gala don’t exactly— err— like my ideals.”

The heir stands up and walks around to where his suit jacket is hanging from a chair. You also stand up, making small advances to the elevator.

It feels too awkward to be standing here anymore.

“So uh,” you point to the elevator doors, “I’ll just go.”

“Hold on,” Jungkook commands, and walks back after shuffling his hand around in the suit jacket. He grabs your wrist and slides a piece of paper into your hand, leaning near your ear. “In case you change your mind, call me.”

You nod and politely bow. “Thank you, Jungkook-ssi.”

He nods in return, watching you swipe your wrist on the scanner and enter the elevator. Turning around to face him, you shoot him one last smile. “Enjoy your refreshments, Mr. Jeon.”

Then the doors close.

———

“WHAT?” Jeon Somi shrieks, her hologram flickering. “He did WHAT?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the p. You hold up the card Jungkook had given you this morning. “I have Jeon Jungkook’s number.”

Somi looks like a kid on christmas who finally got the 5,000 silly bandz pack she’s been begging for. “Y/N, you’re shitting me right now. Say you’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“Oh my god, you have to call him and say yes,” your best friend squeals, rolling on her bed. She stops rolling to give you a stern look. “What are you doing? Call him, now!”

Rolling your eyes, you fight a smile. “Somi, I already told you why it isn’t a good idea—”

“But he obviously likes you enough to give you his number,” she hisses frantically. Her hologram shifts as she tries to take a peek at the card. “Miss girl, if you don’t call him, I will.”

“Somi—”

“Ask for something in return,” your friend quips smartly.

“What?”

The younger woman inspects the ends of her hair, grimacing when she finds dead ends. “Y’know, he obviously likes you. He tried to kiss you, let you patch him up, asked you out several times, which, I may add, you very rudely denied, then gave you his number. I’ll bet that he’s desperate enough to do nearly anything to get you on a date.”

You sit up in interest. “You think so?”

Somi scoffs. “Oh honey, I know so.”

Hmm.

You stare at the slip of paper a bit more, wondering.

Could he really give you what you wanted?

“What are you thinking about?” Somi inquires, examining your face. “You got so serious all of a sudden.”

You pause.

“I’m gonna call the Jeon kid,” you announce, scrambling up from your seat on the bed.

“Hell yeah,” your best friend whoops, cheering you on. “That’s my girl. Get that dick!”

“Shut up,” you blush, ending the call with a flick of your hand. Clutching the slip of paper in your hand, you slowly exhale.

Hands trembling, you shakily type the numbers into the phone of your wristband, expanding it so you can clearly see the screen.

A few seconds go by and you hear nothing but the beeping of the line.

Then—

“Hello?”

a/n: chapter two will (hopefully) come soon! i have a vague idea of what I want to happen but feel free to speculate in my inbox (if u want) :)) or u can also j use my inbox to tell me to hurry the fawk up- for motivation purposes.

#btswritingcafe #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #btscreatorscorner #w: foth #sugacouture #jjk x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fic

66 notes · View notes