#I wish the words in my head would automatically write themselves down
Note
I literally think the same thing! Right now I’m writing a slow burn friends to lovers with Eddie and I keep thinking I’m dragging it out too much and then when I write in some smutty parts they feel super cliché to me or overused and I kick myself for not being more creative. So I totally understand the struggle!
That sounds exciting! When I get home from work I’m gonna have a loooong look through your blog!
I’ve noticed that I can write spontaneous fics pretty quick but when I actually plan a fic out it’s so difficult to write (kinda why kinktober is taking so long 😭💀) I honestly thought it’d be easier that way but nope lmao
#stranger things#eddie munson#joseph quinn#asks 💛#I wish the words in my head would automatically write themselves down
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Choice [Beck Marley]
Yeah I got that weird grave man on my mind and it's gotten me to write a complete fic for the first time in like. At least a year. God damn.
TW/CW; Threat of murder, freshly dug grave and being forced to sit at the edge of it, gun (pistol), boss hiring a hitman, gagged, tied completely by rope, and this is a captivity fic (though captivity doesn't start yet)
~~
They couldn’t help but flinch away as the stranger approached them again. They’d already been roughly thrown aside, apparently ‘in the way’ of the dirt being dug out of their grave. But now… now, it was done.
The stranger didn’t even grab them directly. Wriggling his fingers underneath the rope that bound them, he pulled them up from the ground.
Dirt scraped as they were dragged to the foot of the grave. Their eyes landed on the mound of soil that would soon be poured over their body. It sure did look like a lot. Hopefully it wouldn’t hurt.
Well - it wouldn’t. Of course not. Dead people don’t hurt.
They squeaked past the gag as they were lifted up to their feet, then shoved down onto their knees. The ropes dug into their legs, having been tied when they were straight. It was hard for them to keep their balance as the stranger stepped away, letting them go. Balancing with their arms bound behind them wasn’t easy.
It was the click of a gun that made them stop squirming.
Oh.
Shit.
The stranger was checking the amount of ammo in the pistol, not even looking at them. Satisfied, he clicked the magazine back into the handle and flicked the safety off.
“You ready?” he asked, flicking up his hat. His voice sounded so strange, like it wasn’t his tone that was dry, but his throat, along with every other inch of his being.
His hand reached for their face, and they shrank into themselves. “Relax,” the stranger drawled, reaching behind their head. “I’ve just got a habit of letting people have their last words.”
The gag was untied, thrown away. A groan escaped them as they tried to close their jaw. After so many hours, it felt stiff with pain.
The stranger was kind enough to give them a moment, but he eventually kneeled down in front of them. He had a slightly amused look in his eyes as he pointed the barrel of the pistol between their eyes.
“So? Any last words?”
Their mind raced, but they were strangely able to keep up. (Maybe it was their panic that he wouldn’t give them last words at all, and was just trying to get them to sit still in thought.)
What kind of last words did they consider worth saying? Nothing deep and philosophical would matter when there was just this murderer to hear them. And they didn’t really have any qualms that needed to be settled on their death bed.
They didn’t…
Hm.
“Just do it.”
Beck raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a little. “Hm?”
“Just… do it,” the kid blurted out. “I don’t have anything.”
He stared. Couldn’t help but snort. “You serious?” he asked. “Nothing at all?”
The kid grit their teeth. “No,” they seethed, trembling. “I don’t have anything to say.
“I’ve got nobody to pray to, I’ve got no friends or family. I don’t have anybody who I’d wish would save me. All I had was my job, and I know exactly who hired you to get rid of me.”
Beck said nothing. The kid sure had something to say, might as well let them get it out.
“So just- just do it,” they mumbled, their sudden bravado beginning to crumble. “Nobody’s going to miss me while I’m gone. Nobody’ll even know. So just… get it over with.”
Another moment of silence.
“Just… do it quickly.”
The stranger remained silent. Damn, for not knowing what to say, they sure said a lot. They felt stupid. Pouring out their loneliness to a stranger. To their assassin.
A cold rim of gunmetal pressed into the bottom of their jaw, making them shiver and automatically straighten up. They struggled to keep their breathing calm, shutting their eyes tightly.
“... Lonely kid, aren’t you?”
They couldn’t help but sob. He couldn’t make this any faster? Did he have to tease them?
“Hey. Kid.” The barrel of the gun dug into their skin. “Answer, will ya?”
Their chest heaved as they tried to let go of the breath they were holding. “Yes,” they responded. Here they were, leaning back onto the precipice of disaster, at the edge of their grave, on the wrong end of a gun. “Of course I am. You heard what I said. Are you deaf?”
The stranger laughed. Oh, stupid, stupid. Why did they have to insult him? Their stupid mouth-
The gun moved away from their skin, and they heard another click.
But it wasn’t the last thing they heard.
“Nobody, huh?” the stranger mused under his breath, scratching his head with the- They opened their eyes. Scratching his head with the pistol, barrel pointed at his own skull. “You’re sure about that?”
They stared. “... Yeah?” they said incredulously. “What- Wasn’t it easy to catch me?”
“... I guess,” the stranger mumbled, looking off into the distance. “Here. Tell you what.”
He put the pistol next to him, laying it onto the ground. He was already balanced back onto his heels, and he put his elbows onto his knees as he addressed them. “Your bosses. You know they gave me the contract. Yeah?”
They couldn’t tell if they were still in shock, or the adrenaline was wearing down. They just nodded.
“Cool.” He seemed to think for a moment before he spoke again. “You know, the contract, word for word, just said to ‘get rid of you’.
“So, technically,” he said slowly, “I don’t have to kill you. That’s not what the old guy said.”
What? What?
“... So what does that mean?” they asked cautiously. “What, you let me go, and I just… run? Never come back?”
Their stomach sank as they saw him roll his eyes. “This ain’t a movie, kid, come on. Nah. I got a better idea.”
He looked over his shoulder, then jerked a thumb towards the cabin. “See that? That’s my home. That’s mine.”
They… didn’t like where this was going.
“Now, it gets…” he waved his hand. “Tell you the truth, it gets fucked up in there. I never feel like cleaning, even between contracts. Like, I have to, I just… don’t.”
… Now they were confused.
“You want a maid?”
He scoffed. “Nah. That’s just part of it. I do have another idea, though.”
His eyes stared into theirs as he gestured again. “You stay there, in that cabin. You don’t leave. And you help me figure out… let’s say, new techniques.”
Before they could think of a response, he had picked up the gun again, and was studying it carefully. “You do that,” he said, “and I won’t kill you. You get to live.”
They looked towards the cabin. Then back at him.
“I don’t even know your name.”
The stranger snorted. “It’s Beck,” he said. “Beck Marley. And now that I’ve said that…”
They flinched as the pistol was pointed back towards them. “You’re on my shitlist again,” the stranger - Beck - said calmly. “So, now you got the same two options. A… I kill you, save my own skin, since you know my name. Or…” He silently nodded towards the cabin.
Looking towards the cabin sheepishly, they avoided looking at the gun. It didn’t look… that bad. And they’d always wanted to go run away and live in the woods, away from people. Cleaning wasn’t so bad. “Figuring out new techniques” couldn’t be that bad.
“What’s it gonna be, kid?” Beck asked, casually flicking the safety off on the gun. “You gonna stay, or die?”
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
could I pls request the hashiras w/ a sensitive s/o ( they get upset easily etc . ) and how they’d react to someone accidentally saying something that made them cry ??
gender neutral reader if possible
if you don’t wanna write for all the hashira , feel free to pick your favourites or something , I don’t really mind tbh
thank you in advance ! ! ! have a wonderful day / noon / night 💞
a/n: thank you for requesting again!! this was lowkey hella hard to do dude so i'm really sorry for how long this took. i managed to get all the hashira in and kept it pg obviously for muichiro since he is underage but i left him as is. i was legit brain dead writing this but here you go!
𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕜𝕠 𝕜𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕛𝕦𝕣𝕠𝕦 ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
He doesn't take well to it, but he also understands that the fellow Demon Slayer was only trying to give you constructive criticism. Kyoujurou would scramble at first not knowing how to react since it was the first time he'd ever seen you so distraught. But then he'd finally recollect himself and dismiss the slayer and get back to you.
But just as he finally got himself together you'd throw yourself in his arms and blubber like a baby. Which again would have him flustered at first, but he'd soon chuckle and hold your face in his hands. A chaste kiss on your forehead that would cease your weeping.
"You know, my little flame, you're quite cute when you cry."
You looked up from his tear soaked uniform to his blazing eyes, gazing down at you lovingly. It sent your heart racing and you could no longer look at him. So you did what any other person would do if they were madly in love Kyo and couldn't look him in the eyes. You buried your face back into his chest while the heat rushed to your cheeks. The sound of laughter escaping his lips once more as you smiled against his damp uniform.
𝕘𝕚𝕪𝕦𝕦 𝕥𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕠𝕜𝕒 ₍ᐢ ̥ ͉ ̥ᐢ₎
He doesn't exactly think it through, just does. So in one swoop motion he'd carry you out of there and gave the fellow slayer any icy glare that had them shivering to their core. You'd be shocked at how quickly he'd get you out of that situation and he'd stop at an isolated area for you guys to be alone.
"U-um, Giyuu?" You'd stutter, as you rubbed your eyelids and looked at him with eyes are big as saucers.
"Are you alright?" His stunning cerculean blue gaze was piercing through your heart.
"Y-yeah. You can put me down now." His face automatically vermillion with agitation at the realization of you being in his arms. He firmly planted you on the ground and turned away to avoid looking at you. You laughed at how cute he looked when becomes embarrassed and slipped your arms around him from behind as you buried your face in his back.
"Thank you, my love."
𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕟 𝕦𝕫𝕦𝕚 ₍ᐢ ̥ ̮ ̥ᐢ₎ *:･。
"Eh?! Why are you crying [name]?"
It wasn't the first time he'd see you crying, but he was very perplexed by the sight in front of him. He didn't think much of it when the lower rank demon slayer was simply advising you to be more careful on the next mission. His ruby glare burred holes into the back of their heads.
"Why the hell did you make them cry for? It's not very flamboyant of you." He was menancing to say the least. It caused the demon slayer to stammer on his words until you spoke up rubbing at your eyes.
"It's not their fault, Tengen. I just get emotional. You know this." You sniffled as you tried your best to regain your composure. A soft 'tch' left his lips before he carried you on his shoulder which gave rise to a squeal from you.
"Put me down!"
He smacked your bottom and chuckled devilishly.
"Nah, I think we're gonna change that whiney mood of yours right up!"
𝕠𝕓𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕚 𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠 U ´꓃ ` U
He doesn't waste anytime elbowing the person into the ground. Not only for just talking to you, but making you cry?! Oh, buddy. You're in for the beating of a lifetime.
"Obanai!" You exclaimed. Your tear stained face contorted into worry as you watched the now pummeled slayer knock out cold.
"That'll teach him. I'll make sure he never sees the light of day the next time he even looks in your direction." He sneered at them and then looked at you with gentle eyes. "Are you alright?"
You nodded as he dabbed away at your face and caressed you cheek.
"Alright, let's go then."
He stated before getting up and taking your hand in his as he dragged you away from the scene.
"Wait! Shouldn't we help him?" You were glad that Obanai cared that much about you, but he really shouldn't just go around attacking people like that and leaving them unconscious.
"No, Shinobu will take care of that eyesore."
𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕓𝕦 𝕜𝕠𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕦 Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
"You must have a death wish."
The tone in her voice was so venomous yet sickly sweet it almost could've been enough to kill you. The nerve in her temple popping out as the demon slayer who was unfortunate enough to accidentally make you cry shuddered in fear.
"Shinobuuu." You whined. "Please leave them alone. They didn't mean any harm!"
Her eyes went soft when she saw you in your distressed state and then back to her vicious glare when it was back on them. "Run along now."
Her voice still even, yet scary. The demon slayer bowed quickly before escaping leaving you two alone. Shinobu sighed as she caressed your cheek.
"You're so delicate, sometimes." Your shoulders slumped at her words. It wasn't for long because Shinobu decided to plant a kiss on your nose and giggled. "Ara, ara, [name]-chan. You're still my sweet butterfly."
Shinobu didn't show much PDA, but when she did it made your heart implode and she was absolutely, 1000% aware of this.
𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕚 𝕜𝕒𝕟𝕣𝕠𝕛𝕚 ʕ♡˙ᴥ˙♡ʔ
Her face would get all puffed up and red as she watched you cry from a few feet away, that is until you started to hug the person that was causing the "commotion".
"I hope you find peace." You said softly as you pulled away. The person thanked you and bowed with tears in their eyes before stepping away.
"[Name], are you okay?!" Mitsuri exclaimed as she hugged you with all her might. You had to tap out for her to let go. She noticed this and you gasped for air as she apologized endlessly.
"I'm okay, Mitsuri. Their family was attacked by demons and I managed to save one member and they just came to thank me in person." You vigorously swabbed at your eyes with your sleeves before smiling again at your lovely wife. Mitsuri didn't realize her strength and sometimes that would lead to her infamous death hugs.
"Oh, [name]! You are so heroic!" She squeaked with joy as she squeezed you again, this time with less agnozing pressure. You hugged her back as you laid your head on her shoulder and thanked God your partner was as lovely as she was.
𝕘𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕚 𝕙𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕛𝕚𝕞𝕒 ₍ᐢ｡ ˬ ｡ᐢ₎
His towering height alone was enough to have the culprit who made you cry shaking in their boots. Gyomei would simply ignore that he sent that person pissing themselves and would lift you in his arms as he dabbed away at your tears with his hankerchief.
"Dont cry, my flower. They're not worth your precious tears." He'd murmur against the apple of your cheek as he kissed it. This would instantly boost your mood and have you throwing your arms around him and squeezing him tight. You'd plant the biggest kiss on his cheek causing him to blush.
"Thank you, Gyo."
𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕚 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕫𝕦𝕘𝕒𝕨𝕒 ʕ； •`ᴥ•´ʔ
Anger. Kind of a no brainer. He'd go off on the person who made you cry and in return would make them cry and run far, far away. He'd comfort you by giving you a nice, bear hug and kiss on the top of your forehead whilst asking if you were ok. You'd end up laughing with tears still in your eyes and obviously this would puzzle him.
"What are you laughing about?"
"You just scared the bejeezus out of that guy and sent him crying!"
He'd chuckle and bring you back in for another warm hug and your face would nuzzle the crook of his neck.
"I'll send anyone crying for you."
𝕞𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕠 𝕥𝕠𝕜𝕚𝕥𝕠 ₍ᐢ ̥ ̞ ̥ᐢ₎ ♥
Much like when he showed his distain towards Tanjiro when he interrupted Oyakata-sama. He would be watching from a distance, and fiercely flick pebbles at a scary fast velocity that was deadly enough to pierce a hole through the person who dared to talk down to you. But, of course, he held back since it was only a mere human but it was enough to send them to groveling on their knees.
You'd wipe your tears away and turn in the direction it came from to see Muichiro smiling at you while tossing a pebble up and down in hand. He was always watching over you.
#demon slayer headcanons#demon slayer#kny#kimentsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer imagines#demon slayer fanfic#obanai iguro#mitsuri kanroji#rengoku kyojuro#renguko kyoujurou#shinobu kochō#shinobo kocho#giyuu tomioka#tengen uzui#himejima gyomei#gyomei himejima#muichiro tokito#kny x you#kny x obanai#kny x general reader#kny x sanemi#kny x y/n#kny kyoujurou#kny reader insert#kny gyomei#kny x renguko
950 notes
·
View notes
Text
Helpless (2)
the next chapter in the drider virgil fic!
warnings: spiders, slight dehumanizing language, assumptions/jumping to conclusions
-
Logan was certain that he’d tracked down his quarry.
Of course, he’d also been certain the last two times he’d found promising evidence around a swath of woods, but this time was different.
He had learned plenty while traversing through the varied lands of his kingdom, and while physical evidence was ideal, word of mouth was one of the most useful tools a researcher could use to find leads.
That was part of the reason why he’d been so careful to observe typical travelers for weeks before his departure, the reason he was wearing worn, cheap fabric and staying at the second-cheapest room at this town’s inn, despite having plenty of money still hidden on his person. He didn’t want a single rumor about a suspiciously rich noble traveling alone.
The last thing he needed was for his investigative journey to be interrupted by bandits, or worse, would-be do-gooders attempting to return the missing prince to his place in line for the throne.
Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the very thought, putting aside the last half of his travel rations and stopping at the edge of town to stare into the woods beyond. He checked his compass habitually, and he was pointed firmly westward, exactly towards the point of the woods that were occupied by a dangerous monster, according to the barkeep that Logan had plied for information last night at supper.
The whole town knew of it, even the younger residents, which was a point in favor of the creature really existing rather than just being another folk tale.
There was one other potential source on the creature, a town outcast going by the way others’ noses wrinkled at the mention of him, but Logan was more than ready to begin investigating for himself, and the odds that the outcast actually knew anything were low, anyhow.
Decided, he headed into the forest, prepared for the day-long trek that was sure to follow. If he was prone to less scientific notations, he might have jotted down that he had a good feeling about this particular town.
Exactly an hour and a half later, Logan had found himself almost entirely immobilized by layers and layers of gossamer threads strewn about the trees.
Needless to say, he was ecstatic.
Even the foolish manner in which he’d landed himself stuck in such an obvious trap couldn’t dampen his spirits, not when faced with undeniable proof that there was in fact a drider in these woods. He’d been too hasty in his attempt to collect some of the biological material, and by yanking too hard, had ended up pulled forwards into the thick of the intricate spider web.
His immobility was a bit concerning, but mostly frustrating, since he couldn’t reach for his journal to note down the surprising level of the webbing’s tensile strength. Still, proper scientists had to be prepared to hold onto their observations for as long as it took for them to be able to write them down.
Besides, he could hardly complain. His current predicament practically guaranteed that he would actually get to see the creature!
-
There was a person stuck in his webs, and Virgil was freaking out about it.
It had never happened before. Virgil very specifically made the webs closer to town thick and opaque so that any passerby would see them and avoid this exact situation.
Virgil peered around the cluster of bushes he had half-flattened himself behind. The stranger didn’t seem too panicked, at least, going by the way that the web barely swayed with his presence. He didn’t even seem to be breathing hard, which was… admittedly sort of strange.
Skies above, what if this was a trap? Virgil turned his head sharply to scan his surroundings, wary of human hunters suddenly popping out of the undergrowth.
Several moments of silence, and even with all his senses pushed to their farthest, he couldn’t detect anything. It seemed the only one trapped here was the human.
A pang of guilt curled unpleasantly in his first stomach. He grimaced, wishing desperately that Patton was here to mitigate the utter terror Virgil was surely about to inflict on this guy.
No point in drawing it out. He rose up to his full height, grateful that the human had gotten stuck facing the opposite direction, and quietly crept up behind him. All he needed to do was announce his presence and let the human know he wasn’t going to hurt them, but he was immediately distracted at the sight of just how tangled his webs had grown.
“How does one human manage to touch every single support thread at the same time?” he asked, voice incredulous.
The human stiffened, and he couldn’t help but tense in response, cursing his big mouth.
… Really though, he spent hours crafting these, and now this one would have to be completely reconstructed!
“Are you the monster spoken of in town?”
The measured voice snapped Virgil out of his thoughts as easy as a clap of thunder, and he shuffled a bit from side to side nervously. His many steps must have been louder than he’d thought, because the human immediately attempted to twist around and see him.
He failed, naturally, because Virgil’s threads weren’t exactly easy to wriggle free of, but Virgil’s nerves only grew. “I… why do you ask?”
There was a short silence, and then, “Considering my current situation, it’s only natural I would want to know, isn’t it?”
Virgil resisted the urge to wince at his own dumbassery. “Right. Well. Yeah,” he confirmed, already bracing for the fear that nearly every human bore when confronted with him. Even Patton had been afraid at first, though Virgil really thought him braver than any other human, to be so terrified of even normal spiders and befriend a Drider of all creatures.
“Oh, excellent,” the human said with clear excitement. “Would you mind coming around so that I can see you?”
Virgil blinked, befuddled. The last thing most humans wanted was for him to come closer. Maybe it was the natural fear of him being in their blind spot? The guy certainly didn’t sound very afraid, even with Virgil’s less-than-stellar first impression.
“Do you have a weapon?” he asked warily.
“I have a knife,” the stranger offered, “but I can’t exactly reach it at the moment.”
Virgil could see the glint of it, caught bladefirst at the very edge of a web as though it had been used on the threads themselves. He slowly circled around the clearing, watching the stranger closely for any sudden movements, until he stood before him, all eight legs and thorax visible.
“Fascinating,” he breathed, eyes blown wide as they skittered from point to point as though noticing every little detail. Virgil would have thought him afraid had it not been for the prideful little grin that sat on his face. “I thought maybe you were lying to me-- I hadn’t expected you to be so fluent in the common language, living in the woods and all-- but wow!”
Virgil felt his front legs rising up a little bit in an automatic defense against the unexpected reaction. He ran his tongue over his fangs nervously, trying to figure out whether or not he should be insulted about the language thing. And what exactly did this guy mean by ‘expected’?
The stranger’s hands twitched slightly, still stuck firmly in place, and irritation briefly flitted across his face as though he’d forgotten his position. He blinked, as though remembering something.
“Oh, right. Are you planning on trying to consume me, then?” he asked, the question as politely curious as an inquiry about the weather.
Virgil recoiled physically at the idea, skittering back a few strides and baring his fangs despite the difference in size and strength and trapped-ness between the two of them. “What? No!”
The stranger managed to drag his intrigued gaze away from Virgil’s fangs, his hands twitching again almost subconsciously. “In that case, would you mind helping me down? My leg has begun to go numb, and I really would like access to my journal.”
“I-- I mean, yeah, if you aren’t-- I can--,” Virgil stumbled over his words, drawing closer with his body lowered non-threateningly and waiting for the inevitable flinch or shiver of disgust.
It never came. The stranger continued to stare at him with no trace of terror in his eyes, even as Virgil grew close enough to reach out and touch him.
“Take your time,” he offered, despite being the one trapped in a monster’s web. Virgil abruptly felt a bit silly about his obvious wariness, and lifted his front legs to rub them together at the ankles. The stranger’s head tilted to the side slightly, watching the gesture intently.
“... It’s the oils that make the webs not stick,” Virgil explained. “I produce it naturally on my feet so I don’t get, y’know, stuck. I’ll have to touch the webs that are attached to you. With my feet. The spider ones.”
Virgil didn’t have any other kinds of feet, but the stranger graciously didn’t nitpick.
“A built-in solvent… I wonder if natural spiders have similar traits,” he mused instead, and then, “Do whatever you need, I don’t mind. The opposite, really, I appreciate the assistance.”
Sure enough, he didn’t shy away when Virgil began carefully plucking at the threads entangling him, sliding the sides of his legs along them to coat them in the anti-stick oils. Bit by bit, the entanglement loosened, and Virgil had just freed both arms when the human abruptly twisted around to reach for something on his person.
Of course, now that much of the webbing holding him in midair had been removed, his weight was significantly less supported. A few threads snapped, and he dropped a few inches with a startled yelp. If he continued, he’d be in for either a rough fall or getting caught in a whole new layer of webbing, and Virgil wanted neither of those things.
He quickly reached forwards with his human arms and lifted the stranger up and away from further entanglement, batting away any stray threads with his front legs. Belatedly, he realized he had forgotten to check if it was a weapon that the human had reached for. Even more belatedly, he realized that this was the second human he’d picked up in this impromptu carry.
Weird that it had happened twice.
“Perfect, thank you,” the guy said, and then he started writing furiously in a little book, occasionally glancing up at Virgil and locking onto a feature before returning to writing. It was as though he didn’t mind at all being held aloft like a human might lift up a misbehaving cat.
Virgil took the opportunity to continue cleaning any web remnants off the guy while he was distracted, his mind whirring. A stranger who had clearly never done a day of hard labor in his life, who didn’t seem at all afraid of him, and was taking notes.
... Oh, shit.
Virgil set him carefully on the ground while he was still preoccupied with scrawling out a label for a diagram of Virgil’s teeth. He backed up, softening his steps, and by the time the stranger pulled his attention away from his book, Virgil was already well out of sight and planned to keep it that way, regardless of the confused little call the stranger made.
He was not messing with what was clearly a mage out for his parts.
#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#spiders tw#ts logan#ts virgil#drider#helpless#super weird not to have an acronym#h#lol#i think logan deserves to be a silly little scientist. as a treat :)#my writing#writing#my fever broke yaaay#thanks for everyones patience#and well wishes!
206 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yayyy i absolutely love your writing!!
I would like to request a Hoshi × gn!idol! Reader angst+fluff imagine where Soonyoung cheers/takes care of his reserved s/o who has been having a hard time and has opened up to him about it for the first time. S/o is someone who can't say no easily and because of that their workload had increased a lot. But in the end they can't hold themselves any longer and breaks down.
strength | k. sy.
pairing: hoshi x gn!idol reader
genre: fluff, angst, then fluff again
warnings: mentions of anxiety, physical and mental tiredness (please tell me if i missed anything!)
word count: 1.8k+ (i honestly don’t even know anymore)
💌: thank you very much for requesting! i made some tweaks here and there and i hope you still like it! thank you for loving my writing as well :’( it really means a lot that <3 i hope you like this!
Soonyoung was aware that you’d be coming from Japan for your collaborative magazine photoshoot. He just didn’t know that you’d be going straight from the airport at four o’clock in the morning.
He thought he read your message wrong saying that you’re on your way to the assigned shooting location. As far as he’s concerned, the call time was at seven a.m. He had to do a double take while squinting his eyes over the brightness of his phone but when he saw another bubble pop out saying you’re already there, he immediately jumped off his bed to shower.
He misses you. You’ve been going in and out of the country because of promotions and the chances of getting to see you has been slim to none. If he ever meets with you, it will be short because either one of you has to go back to work or has to go back to bed because there is a flight to catch the next day. It’s obviously tough. But your relationship perseveres.
Soonyoung will do everything to make it work and you are together with him on that. So if it means he has to shower half-asleep and wear his boxers backwards just to see you, he’d never mind.
Your Japanese album tour started and ended successfully but work didn’t stop from there. You were just getting started. Before leaving the said country, you were fully booked for live television performances, interviews, variety shows and the like. It was exhausting but, it was an opportunity that you couldn’t miss out on for the world even if you wanted to.
Soonyoung is proud of you and he will always be. Heart eyes were formed whenever he got the chance to watch your performances whether it be from a paid livestream event or from kind fans sharing and uploading their videos or photos on Twitter or Instagram. He’s even more in love when it’s in person and he gets to watch your performance plus enjoy it with your never failing supportive fans.
However, Soonyoung is also worried because he knows you’re also tired. He knows how fulfilling it is to do what you love the most, but he’s no stranger to the physically and mentally tiring part of it. He wasn’t even surprised to catch you asleep on the couch when he arrived at your dressing room.
Your manager’s eyes brightened when they saw him, quickly standing up from the chair to give him a hug.
“They told me they just need a fifteen minute nap,” they whisper against Soonyoung’s shoulder as he hugs them back. “But we both know they need more than that.”
Soonyoung sadly smiles while his eyes never leave your curled form. He mutters a simple “I’ll take it from here” while your manager excuses themself to buy everyone breakfast.
It’s a challenge to take you into his arms without disturbing your sleep because he doesn’t want that from happening. He just wants to hold you for the remaining time without interruption from other people. He just wants to hold you and share this moment of calm before the lights and camera get into action later.
Soonyoung’s thankful you didn't, although he still felt your lips lightly ghost against his jaw, telling him that you know that he’s here. He brings your legs over his lap while he cradles your head close to his neck. He wishes to lay down, but the couch is too cramped for two bodies so he’d have to settle with this position. He guesses it’s fine with how you deeply inhale his scent and snuggle closer and closer, locking your arms around his waist with no intentions of letting go.
Just like you, he falls asleep, completely comfortable and content in finally having you in his arms again.
Your tangled bodies were shaken to wake up at least an hour later. Both of your managers have food in their hand, ready to energize the two of you up before moving forward with the hair and makeup. The agenda for today includes a photoshoot with several changes of outfit, a short shoot for an audio video presentation and lastly an interview or question and answer of some sort.
Your relationship has been publicly known for two years already. Some fans have been supportive while some have been angry. It’s nothing new and it’s nothing the two of you could care about at this point.
Countless projects have been offered to the two of you during the course of those two years whether it be a song or dance performance, a guesting on a famous variety show and even a three second cameo appearance on a drama. They’re all lovely offers and you would love to participate, but the two of you made a decision to keep the relationship private. Sure, you’ll accept it from time to time. But, it’s still very limited to one to two songs to sing or dance to together and some magazine photoshoots. Just like now.
By far, this is the third time the two of you would be featured on a magazine cover. Your respective publicists already know how to communicate to the publishing company your terms and conditions. Questions about your relationship are allowed, but to a certain number only. The rest will be about what’s mostly seen by fans and the rest of the public which is automatically your music.
The concept is not necessarily daringly romantic. After all, what you’re trying to promote here is the clothes. But your chemistry is maintained with a few fleeting touches here and there. In one shot, you two were holding hands and the other has his arm is loosely wrapped around your neck.
You and Soonyoung are careful to not get lost in each other’s eyes during the short breaks in between because the cameras were still rolling. Although, his soft touches on your hand and arm still lingered. On the other hand, you help him fix his hair whenever he gets excited and jumps from time to time. You could kiss him right now, but again, you want to be careful.
The shoot concluded faster than you thought and the next thing you know, the two of you are sitting side by side with a camera blinking red in front, ready to record the interview included in the contract.
The interview consisted of questions that’s nothing out of the ordinary. The magazine asked about your favorite go-to styles lately, your look inspirations, a little bit of this or that, your recent music releases or favorite music releases at the moment and of course something about your relationship that you're comfortable and willing enough to share.
But one particular question caught you off guard that you had to hold your tears and brave through the rest of the interview without showing any signs that you’re about to cry.
“How have you guys been lately, individually?”
“I’ve been great,” you quickly answer with a smile that didn’t even reach your eyes. The camera may not have noticed, but Soonyoung did. It took a lot of patience and restraint for your boyfriend to stop himself from cutting the interviewer off to ask you again how you really have been.
Everything that was in store for the two of you today ends and when the cameras are gone, you and Soonyoung hand in hand walk back to your dressing room. It’s a relief that this is the last project for the day and you’re glad you could get some rest for the coming week.
Your body slumps on the couch while the staff pack up. You puff out a breath before closing your eyes. You wish you could yell out how tired you are lately. Work piled up over the course of six months and you couldn’t have at least two days away from the makeup and flashing lights.
Soonyoung bites his lower lip as he settles beside you. He’s contemplating whether he should ask you now or later because he doesn’t want you to grow conscious and shut yourself away. He knows how brave and strong you are. But he also wants you to know that you can trust him and that if you ever need a shoulder to cry or at least lean on, his are more than welcoming.
“You okay, babe?” He asks in the quiet as the staff leaves one by one. “Anything bothering you?”
You surprise him by sitting up straight and opening your eyes, welling with tears. That makes him shoot up and instantly hug you close. “Oh baby.”
You finally cry and set free the tears that you’ve been locking deep within you. You thought you could brave through this pain and anxiety without having the need to shed any vulnerability. You thought this shall pass soon. You thought you could do this.
But here you are now letting go with sniffles and shaking shoulders as Soonyoung gently caresses the top of your head.
He hates to see you cry. But it’s only right to let you.
“I just feel like I’m going to miss out on everything if I turn down any project offered to me.”
Soonyoung pouts when he hears what’s been bothering you. It took a while for you to calm down and finally talk, but it’s okay. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind.
“I understand, honey,” he assures you and wipes your tear stained cheek. “And there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.”
Your lips shake again and crying makes you want to hide. Without hesitation, you crawl to your boyfriend’s lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. Soonyoung doesn’t complain and just keeps you close, protective arms around your waist.
The dressing room is empty except for the two of you. The staff got the message once Soonyoung pleaded with them through his eyes to give you some time with him since you’re already done for the day.
“It’s also okay to work and work,” he continues, soothing hands rubbing against your back. “But at some point, it’s also okay to take a break for them.”
You pull away and rest your hands on his neck. “Even though I’m going to miss out?”
Soonyoung nods and leans his forehead against yours. “Yes and there’s also nothing wrong with that.”
“I seriously want to go on a trip with my family,” you say and sigh. “And of course, with you too.”
Soonyoung can’t help but giggle. “I’d love to. How about next month? Let’s go somewhere with your family or friends. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”
Your boyfriend’s enthusiasm puts a smile on your face and this time, the smile reaches your eyes. “Let’s go somewhere quiet first. I want to take a long nap before we proceed to do anything that needs an awake body.”
“You got it, babe,” Soonyoung promises and kisses your lips.
#seventeen#hoshi#seventeen scenarios#hoshi scenarios#seventeen scenario#hoshi scenario#seventeen drabbles#hoshi drabbles#seventeen drabble#hoshi drabble#seventeen imagines#hoshi imagines#seventeen imagine#hoshi imagine#seventeen fanfic#hoshi fanfic#kwon soonyoung#seventeen fluff#hoshi fluff#fic: adore u#drabble: adore u#drabble: strength
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
act natural
pairing: steve rogers x reader
summary: sometimes, you just have to share the bed.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: fluff, sharing a bed, idiots in love, cheesy
a/n: this is really just an excuse for me to write a lot of self indulgent bants, but it’s also a part of @stargazingfangirl18’s soft!dark challenge, and i decided to write something soft and use the prompt of only having one bed! (p.s. i like did not edit this at all so if a few words are used a lot pls forgive me)
Dinner at the safehouse was finally wrapping up after a long day of getting your ass beat by an angry android and a few enhanced teenagers. You and everyone else around you seemed to be more than exhausted from the extensive day of revisiting deeply repressed traumas, and petty arguments between teammates over who was truly at fault for every predicament you found yourselves in.
You took a long and final swig from a beer bottle, glancing up to Bruce and Nat as they stood up and pushed in their chairs, retiring for the night.
“Thanks for hosting us, Laura,” Natasha offered, grabbing her plate from the dinner table, and dropping it off in the dishwasher.
“Of course, guys. Any time,” she gave a half smile to her friend, then looked back at the table, where everyone else had taken the memo, and found themselves somewhere in the process of leaving the table, or grabbing their dishes, “but before you all go, I wanted to warn you that someone else is gonna have to share a room tonight.”
You glanced over at Steve, who was on your left, and Tony, who was sat at the head of the table. You and Steve shared an awkward chuckle at the thought of being in the same bed, not even considering the similarly uncomfortable situation of sharing a bed with Tony.
“I think I’ll be rooming alone. These two lovebirds can share,” Tony chided before either of you even had a chance to think of a response. You looked back over at Steve, whose cheeks were currently dusted with a light shade of pink, and the bigger man quickly looked away from you.
“Tony, you know we are not- you know what, nevermind,” you huffed, deciding the argument was not worth it.
Tony shook his head as he dropped his dishes off in the dishwasher. “So no objections?” he asked teasingly, eyeing you both with a smirk on his way back from the kitchen. “Why am I not surprised?” You could’ve sworn you heard Clint and Fury laughing to themselves before excusing themselves from the table, and dispursting though the house.
Besides the slight humiliation of being teased for your situation, you weren’t too concerned about the act of spending the night, or next few nights with Steve. You and Steve were friends, or something like that. Just a few pals with crushes that you refused to admit to each other (or yourselves).
Pushing this thought aside, you grabbed the neck of your empty beer bottle, along with a few pieces of silverware and marched off to the mechanical cleaner yourself. You dropped off the things that needed to be cleaned, tossed your bottle in the recycling bin, then went to turn away when Steve grabbed your arm, automatically catching your attention.
“Is this okay with you?” He asked, letting his vice grip on your arm go.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you upstairs,” you muttered before speeding off, and heading upstairs where you strolled into the only vacant room, with the door wide open, and both your own and Steve’s duffle bags on the floor.
You made a mental note to thank whoever brought them in (probably Laura), and dug through your bag to find something even slightly comfortable to sleep in, eventually settling on an oversized shirt and your favorite cotton shorts.
You had just barely finished changing in the tiny closet when you heard the soft click of the room door, notifying you of Steve’s arrival. You slid open the closet door, and made a beeline for the bed, flopping onto the left side, and reaching for your phone as a distraction.
“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Steve asked, searching through his own bag until he found the only clean comfortable pair of pants he had in there, that just happened to be a jokey Christmas gift donned with a red white and blue color scheme, and graphics of mini shields on it.
“What the hell, Steve. Of course not,” you set your phone down so that you could get a better look at him. “We probably have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” You could live with that excuse, especially considering that it would not be very becoming of you to tell your crush that missing an opportunity to sleep in the same bed as him feels like a federal crime.
He stood up from his squatting position, squeezing into the tight space of the closet so that he could change into the corny pants, and finally get out of his clothes from the day, “I just didn’t want to make things weird.”
“Well, they won’t be as long as you stay on your side, okay?” You said petulantly, setting two pillows across the middle of the queen sized bed and attempting to ignore the excited butterflies in your stomach.
“I will,” Steve responded, exiting the closet slipping into the right side of the bed cautiously, and looking at the wall that was facing him.
You glanced over at Steve, and when you caught wind of his shirtless torso, you couldn’t help but to look away with a warm face,“this is so awkward now,” you said after a beat. “Why couldn’t you have roomed with Tony?”
“Tony is the worst bed mate ever. Total blanket and pillow hog,” Steve chuckled, attempting to ease up some of the tension.
“You’re no saint either. I’ve heard you’re a cuddler,” you bantered back, allowing yourself one more glance at the man. Steve seemed to be having the same thought as you at the same time as you, as your eyes briefly met.
It was uncomfortably silent in the room once more, and you reached over to your nightstand to turn off the bedside lamp, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Night, Steve,” you turned your back to the border of pillows, fell into a fetal position, and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that you’d be able to find some sort of peace after such a bizarre day. You tried not to dwell so much on the horrors you’d been forced to face earlier, and instead relied on the rhythmic breathing coming from the man next to you to ground you.
----
You weren’t sure when exactly you fell asleep, but a jolting of your bed, and a bit of a commotion coming from somewhere in your room pulled you away from your unsettling dreams.
Blinking yourself awake, you uncurled your body, and rolled over to look at Steve, whose legs were thrown over the edge of the bed while he panted heavily.
“Steve?” you slurred sleepily, “you ‘kay?”
“’m fine,” he yawned.
“Well you woke me up,” you mumbled, throwing your head back against a pillow.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was having a shitty dream anyway.”
“Really? I was too,” Steve refused to look at you, staring blankly at the wall.
“So tell me about it,” you hummed.
“It’s just… I keep thinking about how I missed out on so many things from the past. I could’ve been happy, living out my days in a semi-peaceful and familiar world. Not anything like this.”
You sat up as you listened, pushing aside a pillow from the border you’d constructed to move closer to Steve and set a reassuring hand on his back.
“I guess I just wish that I was there. With everyone and everything I used to know.”
“But it’s not all bad, right?” you offered, and Steve shrugged before looking down.
“I’m sorry. I really am. I know that I’ll never truly understand that, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. You’re here now, and you have no other choice but to make the best of it. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but if you spend all of your time in the present lamenting about what things could’ve been in the past, you’re just gonna be miserable forever,” you rambled sleepily, words slurring occasionally.
“Your experience is so unique, so I could be getting this all wrong, but there are plenty of good things here in the now. I mean, a world without the internet? I don’t know if that’s a world worth living in,” you chuckled softly, and were joined in your quiet laughter by the man on the other side of your bed.
“Seriously, though. I know you can’t control your dreams, but maybe your subconscious is letting you know that it’s okay to let go. Of like, the past. It might just be time for you to move on and be happy. I’m sure that Peggy and everyone else from your past would’ve wanted that for you too.” In the dark, you saw the silhouette of Steve’s head nodding.
“You always know what to say, huh?” he asked, kicking his legs back over onto the bed while you scooted back over into your previous space.
“I’m like half asleep right now, Steve. If you asked me to repeat half of what I just said, I would not know what to say,” you giggled.
“You wanna talk about your dream?” Steve asked in a concerned tone.
“Mmm, I actually just wanna go to sleep. As crazy as that may sound,”
“Is there anything that I can do to help you not have another bad one?”
“Hmmm,” you pondered, becoming a bit more lethargic by the moment. “Spoon me?”
“As you wish,” Steve happily obliged, grabbing one of the pillows from the middle of the bed and adding it to his stash of pillows.
You threw a pillow from the border between your knees, and received a strange look from Steve. “What? I heard it’s good for your back.” He still didn’t seem convinced. “Stop being so judgy and cuddle me already,” you murmured, turning your body so that you could lay on your side.
Steve scooted closer to you, and you pressed your back to the front of his chest. He tossed an arm over you and somehow managed to pull you even closer to him. You swore you hadn’t been this comfortable since you left the womb, and you nearly purred in response.
“Can I make a request?” he asked.
You simply nodded.
“Can we just… talk until we fall back asleep?”
“That’s really cute,” you mumbled into your pillow.
“You just have a relaxing voice!” he defended playfully.
“You are such a dork,” you giggled. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Just tell me about… I dunno, anything.”
“That was so helpful, Steven.”
“My bad. Tell me about your favorite… mission?”
“Mm, probably that one time you and I had to go undercover for like a month to bust that arms dealer.”
“Which one?”
“Some dude in the Midwest. Can’t remember his name.”
“Oh yeah, yeah I know who you’re talking about.”
“It was fun being your life partner for a month. We were really good at being domestic.”
“Hmm, now that I think about it, we really were. Do you remember that cookout?”
“Of course I do,” you laughed at the memory. “Everyone else was getting so drunk, but you just… couldn’t. They were like Joseph, you’re such a beast, and shit. And who would’ve guessed that you, the old timer would be such a beast on the grill.”
“Well, who would’ve guessed that you were so good at cornhole?”
“Was I really that good? Or were you just really bad? Like really bad, especially for someone whose skill set revolves around having good aim,” you teased.
Steve scoffed and laughed, shaking his head at you.
“How didn’t those people recognize us? I just don’t get it.”
“You’d be surprised how much a beard and dyed hair can change your look.”
“I guess,” you sighed softly, and set a hand on top of Steve’s. “Does this feel counterproductive to you? We’re just sitting here giggling. We’re probably getting less tired.”
“I guess I am less tired. But I’m also not thinking about the impending robot apocalypse.”
“Well now that you brought it up, I’m thinking about the impending robot apocalypse. You better fix this, Rogers.” Emboldened by what must’ve been the butterflies in your stomach falling asleep, you began to roll a bit in his arms so you were facing each other, kicking away the pillow between your legs in the process.
“How can I make it up to you?” Steve asked, raising a brow.
“You’re the man with a plan, right? Think of something,” your lip quirked slightly in a smirk.
Steve leaned in just the smallest amount, before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. “I got it. We can do one of those one word stories until we fall asleep.”
Well, that’s not exactly how you thought this moment was going to go.
“Okay, I’ll start then,” you nodded, pressing your head down against a soft pillow, and looking up at Steve, “once.”
“There,” Steve added.
“Was.”
“A.”
“Death-bot,” you giggled.
“Okay, Y/N. No. No more stories. We can just listen to each other breathe now until we fall asleep like before since you wanna ruin the mood.”
“What mood? And you listened to me breathe?”
“What else was I gonna listen to?” he furrowed his brows, “it’s too late for this anyway. We can talk in the morning.”
“All you had to do was tell me that it’s way past your bedtime, and I would be understanding. But goodnight anyway, Stevie,” you cracked him one last smile, not budging from your position as you closed your eyes.
It was silent for a few minutes before Steve whispered up out of the blue, “you still awake?”
You slurred something into the pillow, much more asleep than awake.
“Well, I really like you a lot. Maybe one day I’ll get the guts to tell you that when you’re not completely out of it.”
You grunted as a response, and Steve couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face, not while he was falling asleep, and certainly not during his rather pleasant dreams.
——
You just couldn’t seem to catch a break with your wake up calls. While you and Steve seemed to sleep through the rapping against the door, and the door itself opening, you both seemed to become aware after the artificial shutter of an iPhone camera flooded through your ears.
“You guys just looked so cute, I wanted to archive this moment for the rest of time. And I’m sure the team will be glad to see that you got along well last night,” Nat teased as your eyes widened and you shot up. “Breakfast is ready downstairs, by the way.”
Well, you two were going to have a great time explaining this one.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#avengers fanfiction#captain america fanfiction#captain america x reader#chris evans x reader#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge
437 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!
Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader
I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!
summary; see above.
notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).
Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.
Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.
So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?
Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.
At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.
Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.
You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.
Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.
It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.
“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.
The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.
“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.
You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.
“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.
“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.
Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.
Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.
Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.
Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.
All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.
It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.
“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.
With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.
He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”
“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”
“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.
“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.
When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.
The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.
After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.
Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.
“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.
You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.
When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.
Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.
“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”
Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.
Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.
“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”
You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.
“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.
“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.
“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”
Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.
“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.
“What? Why?”
“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.
Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.
Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”
“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“
“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.
Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.
#murder tw#vampire#x male reader#male reader#male reader insert#reader fic#reader insert#roman sionis#roman sionis x reader#roman sionis x male reader#roman sionis fanfiction#ewan mcgregor#ewan mcgregor x reader#ewan mcgregor fanfiction#mlm fanfic#mlm fiction
167 notes
·
View notes
Text
Zeke SFW Alphabet
Flying monke
Hey bestie, I see you like Mr Monke😏
No shame! No shame!😤 I am writing the chapters everyone has requested but I got asked to do a Zeke alphabet first so here it is
—A (Affection. How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
•Not very physically affectionate in public, he tends to give you stares that gives you the same warm feeling you get from being hugged tightly.
•When you crash into him for a hug, he's so shocked and confused, his heart is dancing at the feeling of your warm little body right against his, affectionately rubbing his back. Before he knows it, he's silently crying, holding your face to his chest so that you don't see.
•Zeke never knew hugs felt so nice and now whenever he's feeling down or whenever you both have nothing to do, he randomly opens his arms up and waits for you to run into them. If you take too long all he does is twitch his hands slightly, which is funny and cute.
•I can see him being way more affectionate in the nighttime, where you're sleeping on him and you mumble under your breath, he kisses your head and strokes your cheek, lovingly gazing at you.
—B (Bestfriend, how would he be like as a best friend, how would the friendship start?)
•Zeke would be the bestest friend ever, sure he isn't the most affectionate or upfront friend but he is incredibly reliable!
•Always defending you behind your back. He insults you but then compliments and uplifts you behind your back to other people.
Basically your lawyer.
•I will never stop saying this, Zeke Jaegar is intelligent as fuck and hates small talk so his conversations are so delicious, so full of flavour. His intelligence turns you on so hard, he is so fun to talk to because A, he makes fair points and teaches you things, B, he has a good sense of humour, C, he genuinely listens. He wants your opinion and understands your point of view on the subject.
—C (Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
•Before getting into a relationship, he always thought hugs would be stiff and horrible, especially in bed but he discovered that he was wrong.
•When you were spooning him, he couldn't nearly think straight from the appreciation he felt. Your arm was so secure around his waist and your body was warm against him, it was a feeling that made him wish he was immortal and experience this FOREVER!
•He likes it when you bring yourself to him, automatically. He finds it cute and always compliments you when you do. It isn't a full-of-shit-flattery compliment, he means it.
•"Why- on this gruesome green earth, are you so cute?" He kisses your head as you nestle yourself on his chest. "Mind telling me? Hm?" He pecks your head again and tightens his arm around you.
•One thing he will die to protect is you, he wants to hide you away from all the horrors of the world and treasures you so much and one way to do it is to tightly hold you right against him, melting at the sound of your giggle.
—D (Domestic. Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
•Zeke wants to live in a cottage with you, secluded from other humans. All the serenity of it relaxes him, it's one thing he'd never stop thinking about.
•Sure he wants to settle down but he'd never want to have kids. He sees himself as a failure to all and can see his little ones hating his guts, having to hear them exclaim how much they hate their papa (even if it's just his imagination) terrifies him.
•He felt like everyone hated him, but you and his grandparents and Mr Ksaver. Children would be too much stress
•As for cooking and cleaning, I don't think he's good with cooking or cleaning. He doesn't really make a mess so it's okay that he isn't good at cleaning
•However he isn't bothered with cooking actual food, he'd always just have fruit or instant noodles when he's hungry. So you'd have to be a good cook because my mans has no motivation for that stuff
—F (Fiance(e) How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
•Like I said before, Zeke isn't good on relationships so if you both last more than a year and he realises you've helped him as a person and he has helped you, he secures it.
•But proposing would be difficult, he's shy, scared, worried you may laugh and blow him off.
•Eventually he gives in and asks, a heavyweight washing off his shoulders when you said yes, even getting butterflies when he realised you were crying.
—G (Gentle. How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
•His inner child is bruised, you can see a little boy in him anytime he smiles properly, it makes your heart shatter to know that he never experienced his childhood properly and is currently a little boy in an old man's body
•He is gentle, he tries so hard to be soft with you and touches you like you're made of glass. H o w e v e r, my man does not hold back when it comes to baseball.
•Zeke is so happy when he's playing baseball with you that he doesn't realise he may have thrown too hard and only realises it when you grunt at the impact it made with your collarbone, dropping everything and running to check on you.
—H (Hugs. Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
•He hesitates at first when your smaller body collides with his, he had let out a small yelp but couldn't help smiling when your arms get tighter in desperation.
•Slowly and gently, he'd embrace you back and smell your hair.
•Zeke's hugs are warm, secure and surprisingly cuddly. He's too shy to hug you first, you'd have to hug him first and he'd not hesitate anymore. Sometimes, when he's missed you so much, he'd hug so tight that your legs float off the floor, completely powerless in his embrace.
—I (I love you. How fast do they say the L-word)
•Zeke thinks a lot so admitting that he loves you would be an epiphany, even years into the relationship. He genuinely can't believe someone loves him and stayed with him.
•He'd say it with a kiss to your forehead, small freckles of tears glistening in his eyes when he stares longingly at you.
—J (Jealousy. How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)
•Very jealous but he keeps it to himself. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. He realises anytime a man talks to you and you smile around them, he can feel himself shrink. He's all dramatic in his head, wondering if he'd ever been enough for you or if you finally realised you deserved a better guy than him.
•All of those thoughts would disappear when you take his hand or talk to him with the tone you always use with him, a cheerful and appreciative one.
—K (What are his kisses like? Where does he like to kiss you? Where does he like to be kissed?)
•Zeke's kisses are hesitant and full of pauses. Sometimes you do most of the work, bringing him closer and all that while he's questioning if he deserves you.
•When Zeke tries to be affectionate, he likes to kiss your forehead, crown of your head, cheek, lips in private. It's reassuring and he loves his little lady more than anything. This small kiss passes on so much serotonin through your skull.
•Zeke doesn't have a specific preference but when you pepper his face with kisses it makes him so happy and fireworks go off in his tummy. With your hands gently cupping his face and your lips pressing every area on his face he softly holds onto you with a flustered smile.
—L (Little ones. How are they around children)
•Lol, he's like their older bro but a lil more distant
Let's move on...
—M (Morning. How are mornings spent with them?)
•Zeke's life is full of duties and priorities but he wishes with his full heart that he could spend the rest of his life lazily holding you with you peacefully laying by his side
•To his dismay, he must leave you to sleep. He has to get up earlier and doesn't bother waking up his sleeping angel, getting ready for work and leaving- not without kissing your cheek. Even if you're fast asleep, Zeke tucks you in and pecks your cheek, admiring you for a few seconds before heading on with his day.
•I'd say on good days, you make an effort to wake up with him and make breakfast so that he doesn't go to work and smoke ciggerates on an empty stomach. Fucking idiot, sorry but don't do that 🙄 even to my readers, don't smoke bestie💜
—N (Night. How are nights spent with them?)
•He does sleep at a reasonable time, sometimes at ten PM, sometimes at eight PM..
•Before bed he'd watch a documentary with you while having dinner and probably tire himself out by sucking in all that knowledge (the TV voice makes him sleepy, so you can see his eyelids drooping when he lies about how he isn't tired... it's cute)
•When it's time for bed he does the usual routine and gets into bed after smoking... which is pretty painful for you to watch but you won't scold him, you'll bring him closer to you and kiss his nose, massaging his scalp and becoming limp when his hand is soft at your waist, caressing patterns with his slender fingers until you fall asleep.
—O (Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
•Zeke thinks he is the scum of the Earth and wouldn't be surprised if you thought so too. It'd be difficult for him to mention any of his trauma so it all comes out through his humour.
•Daddy issues jokes, mommy issues jokes, self-deprecating jokes and you go through so many until you realise the man is traumatised. I can say with full confidence that he once tried making a joke for the millionth time and ended up crying instead of laughing. Of course, you were reassuring and comforted him in every way he needed.
—P (Patience. How easily angered are they?)
•Very patient when it comes to his S/O, he doesn't force anything out of you and slowly, gently speaks.
•Zeke doesn't become angry easily, honestly, he's so smart and open-minded that it becomes a problem because he understands so many things, unable to use his emotions to his advantage.
•Again, emotions pass and are useless to him, they just come and go so he doesn't like feeling too vividly. Especially anger, he thinks there's no use in it.
—Q (Quizzes. How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)
•Like I keep saying, Zeke is a smart, attentive person even when he doesn't mean to be. He pays attention to small details by accident and remembers subconsciously.
He memorises a lot of your habits, bad and good and makes notes of when and where they mostly happen, adapting to your lifestyle without realising.
•Someone is asking what to get for your birthday and tries to get a type of chocolate flavour he remembers you despise and he gives away your full interests and a list of what you like, dumping an essay of your public info to one of your best friends and they're just like °_°...?
•It's cute, he just doesn't know his brain sucks everything about you in
—R (Remember. What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)
•When you took him out to dance and the music suddenly switched from formal dancing to just 'go crazy' and he watched you GO OFF. You were shaking your hip and hopping around energetically, glaring at him for laughing his ass off over the loud music.
•You forced him to dance with you, both of you whipping your hair back and forth, your movements less stiff but nonetheless, in sync. He's never had so much fun. No one he knew was there, it was all strangers but he felt like only you and he were there, dancing freely to the music, he'd just follow your lead confidently
—S (Security. How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)
•Zeke is so protective, paranoid but never expressing it, knowing he'd sound insane:
-"Angel, I have to go out with you because what'll happen if you suddenly get run over?!"
-"No you can't use the phone while it's in charge, what if it explodes in your face?!"
-"Cookie dough, don't try handstanding, you could snap your neck!"
-"No, I won't let you go up these faulty escalators, they could suddenly break open and swallow you, here let me hold your hand up the normal stairs."
-"Don't lean against the balcony, you could fall over!"
•So instead he does it sneakily. Like small solutions, in order, he'd: offering to help you shop when you go out, making you put your phone down to massage him, scaring you into stopping your handstands, holding your waist securely when you're both on the balcony.
•To feel protected, Zeke needs constant reassurance from you. Physically and emotionally. A small kiss on his cheek and a little "Don't overthink, I'm here, let it all out, I'll listen to your thoughts."
—T (Try. How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
•I think Zeke is more of a private person but his dates can be fun too. For anniversaries, you'd both have turns. For his half of the day, it would be spent playing baseball, going to the arcade, taking you out to dinner and then he'd warmly hold your hands in his, asking you what you want to do now.
•His gifts are so thoughtful but he tries to be cool when he gives it to you, lips straight and eyes avoiding you like a shy schoolboy. He can't keep his cool since you have to attack his face with kisses🙄 Jees Y/n stop it, he totally doesn't go insane when you do that to him, totally isn't in love
—U (Ugly. What are some bad habits of theirs?)
•I'd say the damn smoking. Zeke chose an unhealthy coping mechanism and needs guidance out of it, so you do just that.
•Taking his cigarettes and helping him get the nicotine out of his body through skipping rope, taking him to the sauna and even massaging his scalp when he has a headache.
•If course it'd be such a shock to him when he realises how nice he feels after his addiction is over, it's amazing what getting rid of one bad habit can do to your life.
—V (Vanity. How concerned are they with their looks?)
•Zeke trimmed his beard shorter and did his hair when he realised he had seemed to be ageing faster but... for the sake of my selfishness this is a modern au
•Surprisingly, he actually has good skin, a nice beard and a good haircut. Zeke is beautiful.
•Only once, has he ever shaved fully and my guy looked 10 years younger and was lowkey getting cocky but he rathered the beard and let it grow out... not too long though
—W (Whole. Would they feel incomplete without you?)
•Zeke is like the moon, it's a bit dark but it's still useful, however, it needs the sun to give it a boost? So what I'm trying to say is you're the sun to him, life wouldn't feel the same now that you've made your mark
—X (Xtra. A random headcanon for them.)
•I don't care what you say, he can do the entire dance for boy with luv by BTS. He doesn't know why he knows it so well, he's only seen the dance rehearsal once (yes he memorizes pretty fast)
•extra but, by the way, Monke man can figure out a Rubix cube faster than a War breaking out in AOT so... haha very fast👁👁
—Y (Yuck. What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
•He doesn't like a controlling partner, not everything has to go your way babe, life is always going to steer you in a different direction and it sometimes is in a better direction than the one you had first intended.
•So there's that
—Z (Zzz. What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
•This is funny to me for some reason? But once he lets go of your cuddle, he subconsciously sprawls his body out, and he does it for the entire night even when you're on top of him, his clothes are somehow half-off. The pillows are everywhere, the blanket is under his heavy thighs so you're freezing on him :")
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
i love you yeah yeah yeah |rowaelin month- day 3|
rowaelin masterlist
an: i’m not gonna lie, i had so so much fun writing this one! i’m a tennis player and my sister is as well, therefore why i know so much about the junior pro league. for those of you who don’t know, the orange bowl is an actual tournament played internationally for juniors and i’m ranting wow so anyway i hope this isn’t too tennis vocab-y :)
word count: 3,876
~~
It’s the final two days before competition at the International Orange Bowl this year being held in Terrasen and it’s no surprise that tensions between players and academies are more than high. We’re so glad to be here for yet another year of thrilling competition in which the winners will automatically be placed into the first round of the U.S. Open. I, for one, and more than excited to see some new teen faces this year, what about you, Gavriel?
You know Cairn, I completely agree and as someone from Terrasen, you must be more than excited to see some friendly competition on your home turf.
Oh, I sure am excited, but I don’t know if you’d call this competition exactly ‘friendly.’ For those of you unaware, the rivalry between the TAT (Tennis Academy of Terrasen) and the DTC (Doranelle Tennis Center) has been going on for close to ten years now, beginning all the way back to when founders Maeve Vesta and Evalin Galathynius were in college, rivals through and through. Now adults, their children carry on their competitive legacy, taking the nation by storm. If you see the final match of any tournament, you can bet your money it’s a Doranelle kid and a Terrasen kid.
The stakes sure are high during this tournament, as it isn’t closed, like the academies’ usual ones. Instead, anyone player eighteen years old and younger with the qualifying points was eligible to register. I’m looking forward to seeing some new faces this year.
Me too, but you can never go wrong with the usual suspects. This year, my money is on eighteen year- old Rowan Whitethorn from Doranelle, ranked second in the country, in the men’s finals. As Maeve’s nephew, Rowan has been put in the spotlight for most of his life, not to mention taking a clear leadership role among the DTC alongside Lorcan Salvaterre.
That’s a good point, Gavriel, in the past years Rowan has made it to at least the quarter-finals but has always lost before he can truly do. I have a feeling the kid has a lot more in him. And as for the women, I wouldn’t be too surprised to see the Terrasen seventeen year- old cruising through a few rounds before her tough competition starts. We can’t expect anything less than Evalin Galathynius’ daughter, right?
I for one, am more than excited for pre- first-round interviews. It’s always quite interesting to see each players’ mindset before they set out for blood.
~~
“What do you think our favorite golden girl has in store for us this year, Gavriel? Something tells me she’s a little more than annoyed given what happened at the finals of the last international tournament held in Terassen when Remelle Frost from the Doranelle academy beat her in what was the biggest upset of the season.”
Aelin rolled her eyes and glared at the back of her mother’s seat, the woman in question frowning as the annoying voice of Cairn Rossa rang through the rental car. She reached forward to turn the station off just as Gavriel’s voice rang out once more.
“Let’s not beat around the bush here, Cairn,” the older man was responding. “I’ve been doing this just a bit longer than you enough to know when a player isn’t themselves. One loss isn’t the definition of a player the same way one win isn’t either. I suggest both teams- including Aelin and Remelle themselves- step onto the court, and play.”
Aelin let out a satisfied huff. She knew she had always liked Gavriel. Aelin liked that the man looked at the players as more than just players in a video game or statistics on a screen. As a former player himself, Aelin knew the man understood the game in and out and was more than qualified to report during the national tournaments, no matter where he was born and what side he was essentially placed on.
The station was snapped off as her mother’s finger found the correct button, earning an annoyed glare from the Uber driver next to her that she promptly ignored in favor of turning back to her daughter, opening her mouth to say something. Aelin’s own eyes stared back at her before shifting down to the phone she held in her hand. It had just buzzed signaling a new notification that had her mother lifting her brows.
Aelin immediately shifted forward in an attempt to look over her mother’s should before her hand was on her face, batting her daughter away with a motherly ‘leave me alone’ look. She relented, leaning back into her seat with slumped shoulders. Finally, her mother huffed but remained with her back facing Aelin.
She knew it was different this year, she could practically feel it in the air. Without her father with the two women in the car, the tournament atmosphere was a different universe.
It was getting dark outside, the sun setting behind them as they drove through the dazzling city. The car came to an abrupt stop in front of the hotel that sent Aelin jerking out of her own thoughts. Her mother turned back to her with a sad knowing smile and patted her daughter’s knee.
“We’re here. Try to get some sleep- you have a long day tomorrow.”
~~
“What’s the plan for today?” Aelin asked her mother around a mouthful of bagel the next morning. It wasn’t every day the founder of the University came to watch her players in a tournament, but whoever won this won would be fed into the first round of an official professional tournament. It would be amazing PR for the academy, Aelin knew, but she also knew her mother felt bad that her father had escorted Aelin to all of her tournaments in prior years. And now that he wasn’t here anymore…
“Eat up- after you’re done I’ve reserved three courts at the complex and we’ll get together with everyone.” ‘Everyone’ being every other players from the academy who had enough points to enter the qualifiers. Not all of them were as highly ranked as Aelin, but she found it helpful to train with them all the same. They were her friends. “We do need to pick Lysandra up from the airport first though,” she said as she frowned at her phone. “Her flight was supposed to have landed a few minutes ago but she hasn’t reached out…”
Aelin rolled her eyes at her mother, she always did have a thing with protectiveness over her best friend.
“Mom, don’t worry about it,” Aelin assured her. “Aed said he would pick her up and then meet us at the courts. I wouldn’t want to be in that car if I were you.” She faked a gag, causing her mother to laugh.
“Alright then. Eat, find your rackets, and take the rental to the courts. It was just delivered this morning. I have some business to finish here at the hotel.” She left Aelin with a kiss to the head.
~~
It didn’t take long for Aelin to pull up to the familiar yet daunting tennis complex bigger than even the academy, and she pushed the car into park, simply staring for a moment.
This was it.
Three years she had come close to winning as the youngest person in history. So close. But this was the year. This was her year. She could do this. She would do this.
And so Aelin Galathynius pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin as she grabbed her massive tennis bag from the trunk and slung it over her shoulders. The weight was heavy and familiar as she walked through the glass double doors and to the front desk, only to halt in her tracks when she came face to face with a familiar head of silver hair.
Rowan Whitethorn.
She had quite often mused about how unfair it was that her essential biggest rival was so attractive. It didn’t really make hating him very fair, now did it? But there he stood, green eyes shining and teeth flashing as he snapped something at the young man at the desk. The poor boy looked ready to pee himself and Aelin couldn’t help but release a sharp laugh, causing both Rowan and the blonde next to him to whip around.
Aelin watched as Rowan’s eyes sparked and his mouth curved into a sneer as he took her in from head to toe. She forced herself still and kept her eyes on his face. It was all she could do. Rowan opened his mouth and Aelin prepared her hackles to rise instantly.
“Aelin. Good to see you here.” But it wasn’t Rowan who spoke. No, it was Remelle Frost, her least favorite bottle blonde on the planet that spoke as she curled a possessive hand over Rowan’s bicep. Aelin simply rolled her eyes, never one to beat around the bush. It was common knowledge that the blondes didn’t like each other. And after the Adarlan tournament, Aelin wouldn’t hide her disdain for the girl.
“Wish I could say the same,” she replied dismissively as she shouldered past Rowan and made for the front desk. One charming smile and the boy seemed to handle her much better than Rowan. She gave him her mother’s name, him quickly nodding a confirmation and giving her the court numbers, saying they would be available in just a moment.
She turned around, unsurprised to see Rowan glaring at the back of her head. It had been almost eight years of this rivalry. At least for them. Aelin thought it might’ve been a little ridiculous, considering that it started with her mother and his aunt, but the Doranelle kids just made it so easy to hate them. So easy to want to pound them on and off the court. She wouldn’t apologize for the adrenaline the rivalry provided her with.
Aelin smirked, cocking her hip. “Like what you see?”
“Hardly,” he growled. “Just wondering whether or not you actually came to play this time.”
Aelin recognized the comment for what it was- a direct jab to the last tournament where she had lost to Remelle. If the comment hadn’t pissed her off so much she would’ve recognized the compliment for what it was.
“Well, that depends which game you’re talking about, Whitethorn.” Her voice was just teasing enough to annoy him once more, and Aelin’s grin grew.
“Don’t you have a court to go find?” Remelle cut in from beside Rowan, who had distanced himself from her. Aelin didn’t blame him. She wanted to do the same thing.
“And here I was enjoying our little chat. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, mar sin leat.”
“This isn’t Terrasen,” Remelle hissed. “We say ‘good luck’ here. Gods, you Terrasen kids are pieces of-”
Someone caught her by the waist as Aelin attempted to throw herself at the girl and she was soon spun around in their arms, coming face to face with her own eyes. Aedion’s were flashing too as his eyes were fixed behind her, no doubt at Rowan.
“Leave it, Ace, it’s not worth it.”
“It’s true, princess,” Rowan finally spoke with a sneer. “You’re gonna need those pretty little hands tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to have an excuse when you get your ass kicked.”
“Oh, I’ll show you-”
Aedion dragged her away before she could get another word out, her fists clenched and her teeth bared. She shoved him when he put her down.
“Fucking Doranelle,” Aedion spat under his breath as he shook his head.
He merely gestured to a figure behind her, causing Aelin to whip around with wide eyes. Shit. Duke Perrington grinned at her through the snake-eyed lens of his camera and gave her a tiny wave as she bared her teeth at him
Perfect. Now it would look like Terrasen had begun a fight before the tournament even began.
Her mother was going to kill her.
~~
Aelin felt like the stadium had never been bigger. She had known this year she would be playing where the professionals themselves did, including Maeve and her mother, but never in a million years had it looked so daunting or made her feel so small.
The tournament had been, well needless to say, easy for Aelin so far. She had breezed through her first few matches, absolutely destroying the poor girls, and her third had been straight sets as well. But now it was the semis. And she would have to face Remelle on center court. It seemed the gods liked playing jokes on Aelin Galathynius.
She could feel every pair of eyes snap to hers the moment she stepped onto the court but she looked forward. Maybe she was a crowd favorite- but that would do her no favors in the upcoming match. Aelin thought she was going to hurl all over her new shoes and she let the deafening cheering of the audience cover the sound of her pounding heart.
Remelle walked in not long after she and Aelin met her in the middle of the court, racket in hand. Showtime.
Aelin might have been paying attention when the coin had been flipped, might have been minimally involved when she called heads or when she won the call and opted to serve first. She might have been only slightly aware of her surroundings as she took a small sip of her water and walked to the back of the court.
And then it was movement.
It was backward and forwards, side to side, low and high, and it was the same dance Aelin knew better than anything. The same feeling in her feet when she sprinted to the ball and the same stretch of muscles when she reached for a shot. This was who she was- this was the pattern she had lived for ten years.
But it didn’t seem to matter, not as the score continued to tip less and less in her favor with every passing point. She was playing well- but Remelle was playing better. And there was nothing Aelin could do but survive and ignore the satisfied smirks the other girl would throw her during their side changes.
Think, Aelin, think.
Nothing was coming to her head. All she could hear was the pounding adrenaline through her body telling her to play. To cross each bridge when she came to it. There was nothing more she could do than play.
It was then, when Aelin threw herself at a particularly difficult ball, that she felt something shift. And she knew she was screwed.
Aelin was a tennis player- she had rolled her ankle before. But this was different. It had never hurt this bad. And as the rest of her body came down with her ankle, she thought that it could be it. That it was the end of the match all due to a stupid ankle injury.
With her heart in her throat, Aelin signaled to the red- headed umpire.
Injury, she mouthed to her, and the woman- Ansel, it seemed her name was- simply nodded. She was in the massive locker room without a second thought, dragging out a spare bucket of ice held in one of the corners of the room and shoved her foot it. Might as well get it over with.
Aelin winced as the ice on her foot began to take effect and her muscles began to ache, her breathing beginning to lose its consistency. Gods, she hated this. She hated the useless feeling that came over her at the thought of possibly being unable to finish the match. At the thought of all the people, she would be letting down.
She was tired. Aelin was so, so tired.
Gods, she just needed-
The door to the locker room burst open with a loud and abrupt clang, causing Aelin to jerk forward, spilling water on the ground as she opened her mouth. She was ready to tell them that she needed some privacy before her eyes locked onto a familiar figure that sent her heart pounding for a different reason.
“Rowan, you can’t be in here!”
The hulking boy ignored her protests, striding over her in no more than a few steps, both of his hands immediately going to the base of her neck to search her gaze with his own worried one, clearly not caring that he was in the girl’s locker room and would be kicked out of the tournament if he was found.
“Are you alright?” he insisted, his voice low and hoarse, forest eyes intense.
The gentleness in which he touched her had Aelin sighing and her hands reached up to lightly take hold of his wrists, bringing them down and gathering them in her own hands to hold to her chest.
She hadn’t meant to fall for Rowan Whitethorn.
But like everything in her life, it had happened quickly and unexpectedly, and Aelin had dealt with it head-on. It had been a year now. An entire year of playing tournaments in each other’s home’s just so they could see each other. Just so no suspicion was be aroused by the tabloids.
And Aelin hated it.
All she wanted to do was be able to link her hand through Rowan’s in public without causing a public scandal about a decade-long rivalry.
“I’m okay, you fussy buzzard,” she teased as she looked at him, pleased to see when the frown on his lips twitched the slightest bit upward. “It was just a little fall. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
But because he knew her so well, he had heard the uncertainty and fear in her voice as she spoke. So saying nothing, he pulled Aelin to his chest and allowed his arms to wrap around her completely, enveloping her in the scent that she had considered home for months.
And as she breathed him in, she wished home wasn’t always so godsdamned far.
Rowan let her breathe shakily into his chest, constantly running a soothing hand up and down her back as he hummed a small melody that he often did to get her to sleep over the phone at night. Aelin was the first person to admit it was much better in person.
“You don’t have to do it, Aelin,” he said finally, his movements never ceasing. “You don’t owe them anything.”
She knew who he was referring to of course, of the people who had come to watch the new ‘upcoming star’ in action and were expecting to see quite the show. They were the people Aelin had been trained to want to impress.
Aelin pulled back to tilt her chin up and look him in the eyes.
“I can’t just quit, Rowan. I won’t.”
“You have nothing to prove, Fireheart.” And Aelin almost broke as he used the nickname her father had. “Not to anyone.”
She shook her head, helplessness seeping through her body more and more as she looked at the boy in front of her. The pain in her ankle was even worse now. Unsurprisingly, he noticed, and his calloused hands moved to her wrists as he lead her back over to the bucket of ice water.
He kneeled down in front of the bench as she sat down and placed her foot in the water, wincing along with her even after she threw a glare at him.
I don’t see you with a foot in ice.
Seeing you in pain is enough to hurt me, his eyes gazed back playfully. Aelin rolled her eyes, quickly shutting them as another shock of pain rushed through her body, making her inhale sharply.
Her boyfriend frowned once more, clearly upset he could do nothing to help her. So he gathered her hands in his own, bringing them to his face to place a gentle kiss on them, pulling an unwitting smile from Aelin.
“I love you,” she said quietly. Rowan met her soft gaze for a moment before Aelin leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers in a kiss she hoped said everything she couldn’t. Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. I wish we weren’t a secret.
“I love you too, Fireheart.”
She would never get sick of hearing him say that. Of hearing the utter truth in his words.
Rowan was watching her with that adoring look he reserved only for her, his face open so she could see every emotion playing across his face. It only made her want to kiss him again.
So she did, although this time he met her halfway, taking her chin lightly between two fingers and tilting it up so he could kiss her thoroughly as her hands rested at the base of his neck, lightly twirling the pieces of soft hair she found there.
They sat there for a while, simply kissing, enjoying the feeling of each other’s lips and proximity when it was so few and far between, and Aelin relished in the feeling of loving someone who loved her back. In the feeling of not having to act.
When she accidentally tugged at a knot in his hair, Rowan pulled away with a painful groan and a nip to her bottom lip, causing Aelin to laugh and push his cheek away with two fingers.
“Sorry, Buzzard,” she laughed as Rowan stood up, with a playful glare. He folded his arms in front of him and it was only then that Aelin remembered she had a foot inside of a bucket of ice. And her medical time out was running out. “Shit. I have to go.”
Aelin jumped into action, taking her foot out of the ice with a hiss and grabbing a towel as Rowan maneuvered himself around her to find her shoes and socks. Apparently he had understood her message loud and clear about her intentions on forfeiting the match or not- he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with her.
Quickly enough, Aelin was good as new- well, as new as she could be with a half swollen ankle.
“Well,” she dropped her arms to her sides and turned to her boyfriend. “How do I look?”
“Like an idiot who shouldn’t be playing.”
“Or…?” she arched a brow. Rowan sighed and stepped toward her, his hands bracing both of her arms as he leaned forward to press an earnest kiss to her forehead.
“Or Terrasen’s champion,” he murmured against her skin.
Aelin grinned, a wicked and feral smile that meant she was ready to raise hell.
“Now that’s more like it.”
~~
If someone had asked Aelin to regale the crowd with details of her match after she had come out victorious, she would have been unable to do so. Because all she remembered was the pounding of her feet on the ground, and the neon color of the tennis ball, and the feeling of her heart palpitating in her chest.
Oh, and of course she couldn’t forget the moment after her match- winning shot, when every care and inhibition had left her in one foul swoop. When she had sprinted over to the stands and thrown herself into the arms of the silver- haired enemy, delighting in his deep laughter..
And kissed him in the middle of the stadium for all to see.
~~
this prompt was: secret dating
taglist:
@story-scribbler
@rowaelinismyotp
@live-the-fangirl-life
@claralady
@surielandiareendgame
#aelin galythinius#rowan whitethorn#aelin#rowan#aelin x rowan#rowan x aelin#rowaelin#rowaelin fic#rowaelin fanfiction#rowaelin au#rowaelin modern au#tog#sjm#throne of glass#rowaelin month
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader) - Part four
Summary: Y/n and Draco find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every night
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader ft. Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini
Warnings: Excessive smoking, Drinking, mature language and themes, sex, masturbation, 18+ content, reader discretion is highly advised
A/n: as always, thank you for reading WOS. This story has gotten so close to my heart over the last few weeks of writing it and I am grateful for every one that read part 1,2,3. And to everyone who guessed the Astoria plot line, Damn ya’ll are too good!
I’d like to stress that smoking is injurious to health.
Word count: almost 4000
Part One, two & three if you haven’t caught up already
Thursday (Continued)
With his palms resting flat on the shower wall and his grey eyes fixed on the floor below, Draco allowed the lukewarm water to trail down his body and calm his nerves.
Between the restlessness he’d felt after his father’s visit and the stinging feeling of remembering just what was expected of him, he’d barely managed to sleep a wink for three consecutive nights.
And how could he have gone to sleep when he knew you were in that classroom—waiting for him in your silky little dress.
Oh..wait a minute.
He smirked to himself when he remembered that he had destroyed the top half of your dress in an attempt to tug it off your shoulders.
You looked absolutely stunning with the bottom half of your dress pushed back as you spread your legs wide open on top of a classroom desk—he had fucked you so fucking hard that day.
Draco wrapped his hand around his length and began to pump slowly as he recalled the way you wrapped your legs around his torso as he moved in and out of you.
Your moans.
He wondered if you were even aware of the effect your moans had on him.
The way his name slipped out of your cherry lips and the way your tits bounced with every thrust only made him want to drive deeper into you.
He let out a sharp grunt as he started to pump harder, fantasising about all the places he’d fuck you in.
He’d press you up against the shower wall and push himself deep into your cunt from behind, he’d lay you down on his desk and eat you out till you were a quivering mess before driving in and out of you, he would bend you over one of the common room sofas and fuck you so hard and fast if he ever got the chance to.
He’d make you cum time and again till you were sore and dripping with his release—fuck.
Draco let his high take all over him for a brief moment before opening his eyes when he heard his dresser drawer creak.
He dismissed the strange sound and washed the remaining soap from his body before stepping out and towel drying his hair.
“Draco! Y/n is here to see you.”
Astoria? What on earth is she doing here? This can’t be good.
He frantically wrapped the towel around his torso and stepped outside the bathroom.
“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asked, observing the eye bags under your eyes. You were wearing a loose fitted white shirt with the sleeves pushed back and the top two buttons undone.
If Astoria wasn’t gaping at the exchange between the two of you, he would have had you pinned against the wall already.
“I—I Just—” you began but before you could reach the end of your sentence, Theo jogged up to his door and stood right next to you, panting.
“Oh, you’re all here.Good.” He said with excitement saturated into his voice. “Apparently, there’s a party this Saturday night in the room of requirement and we are going—I am not taking no for an answer.”
“That sounds like so much fun.” Astoria grinned and looked at Draco expectantly,making your stomach twist.
“It’s not like we have a choice.” Draco muttered still looking at you while Astoria beamed at him.
“So, Y/n you were saying something?” Astoria politely turning the conversation back to you.
“I actually just came in here to talk about the party too.” You lied looking Draco directly in the eye.
Friday
Even though you were walking to class while bumping into a sea of students, your head was somewhere else.
But of course Malfoy was sleeping around with other girls!
How could you have forgotten?! Maybe he was shagging Astoria outside that classroom the other nig—
“Going somewhere?” Draco asked as soon as he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a gap in the corridor.
“Yes, Away from you!” You spat angrily. “And I don’t appreciate you lurking around, pushing me into a wall every chance you get.”
“I just needed to talk to you y/l/n.”
“About what? Your girlfriend?” You blurted, instantly regretting your decision.
“She is not my girlfriend.”
“Oh yeah? Then what is she?!”
What you heard next made the ground crumble from beneath you and you couldn’t help but wish you had paid more attention to your mother’s letters—especially the one about the announcement at the New year’s ball.
~~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~
Dear Y/n,
Your father and I are looking forward to having you back home for Christmas.
It will give us some quiet family time before the New Year’s Ball hosted by the Malfoys. I’ve heard it through the grapevine that young Malfoy is getting betrothed to one of the Greengrass sisters and they will officially be announcing the betrothal that night.
Isn’t that absolutely fantastic?
Let me know what sort of dress robe you’d like to wear to the Ball this year. I will make necessary arrangements.
Send my regards to Adrian.
Love,
Mum
~~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~~
Saturday
Vodka always tasted unpleasant to say the least. In fact, it burned.
But it burned a lot less than the burn you felt watching Astoria reclining against Draco across the room.
Vodka always gave the worst type of hangover and with every gulp, you knew you were on a steady path to a regretful morning after.
But the morning after drowning yourself in unadulterated vodka shots was better than watching the soon to be Fiancé of the boy you were slowly harbouring feelings for wear his blazer on top of her silver sequinned dress.
What kind of a deranged person gets jealous over someone that was never theirs to begin with?
You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the ridiculously attractive blonde boy dressed in all back, knocked back a few shots and happily accepted Pansy’s hand as she pulled you to the dance floor.
One minute you were jumping around with Pansy, Blaise and Theo and the next minute, you were seeing nothing but pitch black darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Firm arms gripped your waist as you staggered back to your room after blacking out at the party. In all honesty, the person walking you wasn’t much help either with his bloodshot eyes and unsteady footsteps.
“You— you shouldn’t have walked me to my room.”
“I know.” Draco said simply as he watched you walk shakily up to your door.
“Go back to the party Draco.” You said with your voice wavering as he slowly inched closer and closer to you till you were firmly pressed against the door. “You know you shouldn’t be here right now.”
“I know.” He said once again before pressing his own Firewhisky laced lips with yours. “I know.”
Maybe it was the intoxication, maybe it was the way he held firmly onto your waist as his tongue collided with your own but you used your wand to unlock your door with your mouth still attached to his.
Both of you entered the room bumping into furniture, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to your bed.
Sunday
“What is happening to this world again? Can someone please walk me through?— I am simply too hungover right now.” Pansy groaned, scratching her head as he opened the door to your shared dorm with Theo and Blaise right behind her.
Having partied all night long, all three of them were too tired to make sense of the scene in front of them.
“Yeah, I thought Malfoy was with Astoria now.” Theo scratched his chin at the sight of your head on Draco’s chest as you both slept.
Pansy’s eyes widened when she heard Astoria’s name as she quickly ran inside the room.
“Wake the fuck up you idiots.” She yelled using her wand to draw away the curtains making Draco groan as the morning light hit his eyes.
“What’s all this ruckus about.” You mumbled snuggling closer to Draco as your eyes slowly opened to see a glaring pansy accompanied by Theo and Blaise.
“I have invited Astoria up here to hang out with us, so both of you have a lot of explaining to do before she gets here.”
Monday
“So let me get this straight.” Theo began, as he took a long drag from one of Draco’s cigarettes. “Both of you have been fucking around—traumatising poor Blaise for the last two weeks, correct?”
Draco rolled his eyes, scoffing as he lit up another cigarette while you shrugged.
The four of you were at the astronomy tower, reclining against the railings as the day faded away into a chilly winter evening.
“And you two claim that you are not together, correct?”
At this, both you and Draco turned to look at each other—as if questioning each other about the status of your relationship.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You finally said, slowly breaking eye contact with Draco. “He is getting betrothed to Astoria anyway.”
“And you’re okay with this?” Pansy asked, her face barely visible from all the smoke she was exhaling.
“Never been better.” You lied, reaching for a cigarette for yourself. You placed the filter end in between your lips and lit it up, inhaling quickly.
The second you did, tears automatically started to stream from your eyes as you started to cough.
Draco shook his head and turned to you.
“Here.” He muttered taking a step towards you, before taking a deep drag from the cancer stick in between his fingers.
With his free hand raked inside your hair, he pulled your face closer to his until his lips were barely touching yours.
“Inhale y/n.” He murmured, as wisps of smoke left his lips and entered yours.
You were too preoccupied by his proximity to notice the gagging sounds your friends were making beside you.
Tuesday
On your way to the library after class, you heard the voice of Lucius Malfoy right outside the dungeons.
He was going on and on about a ring and how irresponsible Draco was for not getting one made already. Christmas holidays were nearing and Lucius was sure Draco would tarnish the Malfoy family name by not having a ring made on time.
You simply didn’t understand why the Malfoy’s couldn't just use an old family heirloom but you decided to not question it as you walked past them—watching the tired and defeated expression on Draco’s face.
Wednesday
Draco lay on his bed, fiddling with an oval cut emerald ring with the letter “M” engraved on the back of it. The ring had been with the Malfoy women for generations and he simply could not picture the ring on Astoria’s fingers.
And even though he had no say on his betrothal, he wanted to have a say on the ring and so he had insisted on getting something else made for Astoria.
But the last two weeks had gone by in a matter of seconds so he did not find the time to, and could not even be bothered to go and have another ring made.
He had known about his impending engagement since the beginning of the year. He’d taken Astoria out several times but he knew there was nothing to that relationship besides sex and chaste kisses on the cheeks exchanged during family dinners.
He didn’t really mind at first, everything felt fine and he simply craved the validation of his father.
Draco was doing just fine before you came along.
Sure, life was a little lacklustre. The sky wasn’t as azure, his morning coffee wasn’t as aromatic, and cigarettes were simply means of deteriorating his lungs.
But now, things had shifted a little.
He felt happier than he had felt in a really long time.
Just as he was opening up his drawer to put away the family heirloom, you knocked on his door—looking breathless.
“I’m sorry but I overheard your conversation with your father and I think I might be able to help.”
“Huh?” Draco asked, tilting his head,watching you as you grabbed his left hand and dropped a shiny Amethyst ring in the palm of his hands.
“I had it made for my birthday last month.” You shrugged, it’ll help you keep your father off your back till you get another made.”
If he hadn't fallen in love with you already, he surely did in that particular moment, as he pulled you into his arms, desperately crashing his lips on top of yours.
Fuck validation.
Fuck everything.
Fuck everyone.
Thursday
Your back firmly pressed against his bare chest—his heart beat calm and steady.
Draco had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he possessively pulled you closer to him the way he always did.
That is how you had woken up.
Cuddled up with him in his incredibly snug and comfortable bed within four walls enclosed with the smell of bourbon, mixed with the smell of soap, sex and his absurdly expensive cigarettes.
Even with your eyes still shut, your lips couldn’t help but curve upwards when you felt his breathing gently tickle the back of your neck.
That is how you had woken up that morning and you honestly wouldn’t mind waking up like that for the mornings to come.
“Morning Y/l/n.”
His raspy and deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine as his soft lips came in contact with the spot right below your ears.
“Morning.”
He continued to sensually suckle and nibble that particular spot and you suddenly found yourself wanting to be suckled and nibbled on other places.
“Draco.” You hummed pushing yourself further into his embrace. There was something so fulfilling and satisfying about the way you fit into each other's embraces. Entangled arms, limbs and all.
The hands that were wrapped securely around your waist now trailed upwards until they found your breasts.
The feel of his hands taking their own sweet time—softly kneading your sensitive flesh was enough to have you writhing against him
He made sure to take his time and give equal attention to both your breasts, using his slender fingers to pinch and tug at your hardened buds till you were pushing your hips further back towards him—craving friction, any type of friction really.
“Easy now.” He lazily whispered into your ear as you started to grind your hips urgently against his erection aching to feel him inside of you again.
You were empty and missed the feeling of being full but he was nowhere near done with worshiping your breasts—making you restless and impatient with each squeeze.
“Draco.” You tilted your head backwards and sighed into his neck.“I—I need you to fuck me. Please—I just want to feel you inside me.”
Draco let out a small chuckle at the directness of your words.
If someone had told him that the same girl that tried to hex him so many times in the past would be saying that to him, he would have told them to get themselves checked at st. Mungos.
“Relax Darling. I’ll take take of you.” He murmured before trailing his lips down your neck and towards your shoulder placing mellow and relaxed kisses all the way.
“Draco please.” You whined, grinding your hips harder—desperate tears threatening to leak out of your eyes when you felt his hand on your hip, slowing you down.
“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He whispered encouragingly into your ear as you let his hands guide you—moving your hips in excruciatingly slow circles against him while he resumed kissing your neck and bare shoulders.
“Atta girl. Yes that’s it. Keep doing that.”
His kisses were a stark contrast to his lustful, ravenous and angry kisses from the previous night and the kisses only left you craving even more.
“Please Draco—Fuck me. Please just fuck me.”
“Look at you, begging for it.” He said in a hoarse whisper as the tip of his cock made contact with your already soaking wet folds and all you could do was let out a muffled moan into your pillow.
The tip of his cock only slipped halfway inside of you before he pulled out again, teasing.
“You’re dripping wet.”
“Draco..” you whined.
“Tell me darling, who made your pussy this wet?”
“You did. Draco Lucius Malfoy—Only you.”
He loved hearing you beg, he loved it only second to the way you said moaned his name and so he finally entered you allowing his cock to completely stretch you out and fill you up.
With his perfect teeth bared, Draco peppered kisses onto your shoulders, nibbling gently as he rocked his hips at a slow but steady pace—all the while mumbling sweet nothings into your skin about how well you took him, and how good he felt being inside of you.
The way his skilled hands tugged, twisted and pinched your nipples made you feel an other worldly sort of pleasure—causing you to whimper and moan his name,moving your own hips, trying to feel him deeper inside your walls.
“Shhhh—easy there.” He whispered against your neck. “Just let go.. Focus on feeling every inch of me buried deep inside your pretty little cunt. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded and stopped moving your hips and used one of your arms to hold onto his neck as you relaxed into him.
“That’s it y/n, Just like that.” He coaxed, running his hand up and down your body before firmly resting on your hip as he fucked you nice and slow.
There was something different and unexpected about his thrusts, something strange and foreign about the way he used his thumb to rub slow and sensual circles on your clit.
“You feel so good y/n. Your pussy feels so amazing.”
Your moans muddled into one and his movements rocked the bed as he made love to you, pushing you closer and closer towards your orgasm.
“Fuck—Im so close.” You moaned, burying your head deep into the pillow as Draco picked up his pace pushing his cock in harder and deeper with each thrust.
“Oh fuck. yes Draco..yes.” You moaned as he dug his nails onto your hips forming crescent shaped indentations as he pushed himself deeper, hitting just the right spot over and over again, making your walls clench up.
“Draco…”
“Cum for me, Angel. Cum with me.” He groaned,making both of you ride out our highs till his warm seed spurted deep inside of you.
When he pulled out of you, some of the warm liquid had already managed to seep out of you and trickle down your inner thigh.
After taking a brief second to catch his breath, Draco shifted lower into the bed till he was in just in between your legs.
“I could get used to waking up like this.” He smirked looking up at you. His platinum blonde hair was slightly wavy and kind of fluffy, falling on his forehead but not yet covering his stormy greys.
“Like what?” You teased.
“Don't play with me y/l.n.” He warned with a wicked gleam making the grey hues in his eyes brighten into a brilliant. It felt like his eyes changed colors from blue to grey according to his moods.
“I could get used to waking up like this too.” You said softly as he tried to push back everything that had managed to trickle out.
Right before Draco could even reply, his door creaked open.
“Malfoy, Astoria is waiting for you in the common roo—fuck not this again.” Blaise groaned as you pulled the sheets over your body.
Friday
On your last evening at school before Christmas break, you found yourself perched on the windosill, nestled in between Draco’s arms and limbs in the classroom that started it all.
The pad of his right thumb traced slow, almost lazy circles on your hand while he held his cigarette in his left hand.
The lit tip of his cigarette was the same shade as the sunset in the tangerine sky and you took deep breaths to try and soak him and the smoke rings that escaped his lips up because you weren't sure if you’d get to be with him again.
“What are you doing y/l/n?” He asked when he noticed you breathing in and out.
“Nothing.”
“Please.” Draco chuckled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You have that look on your face.”
“What look?” you asked, turning your head to look at him—the way the last rays of the setting sun caught up on his eyelashes only making you fall harder than you already had.
“This look y/n.” He kinked his eyebrows and tried to mimic your expression. “This is the look you have on your face wherever you are up to something—like when you try and fix your failed potion in Potions class. Actually, you even make this face when you mix sugar into your tea.”
“Im just—” You clicked your tongue in frustration. “I’m just going to miss this, I guess.”
Your words made his expressions soften because he understood.
How could he have not?
He had spent the whole of last night watching you sleep—the way your chest was rising and falling, the way your heart was beating against his.
He had spent the last hour trying to store the scent of your fruity shampoo deep inside his memory banks because he wasn’t sure if there would be a next time.
“Let’s stay back at Hogwarts” He mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “It’ll just be us, it will be good.”
“If only.” You sighed as you rested the back of your head at the crook of his neck. “But I have to go back home and explain the whole situation with Adrian and you…”
Both of you went silent for a bit.
“Give me your hand y/n.” He finally broke the silence as you turned around and looked at him quizzically. “I want to give you something.”
You turned your body around so you could face him better. The strong winter breeze blew his hair towards his eyes, making you want to reach up and push those stray hairs away. Instead, you simply placed your hand on his.
“Close your eyes.”
You rolled my eyes at him before squeezing your eyes shut.
“Are they closed?”
You nodded and you felt him slip something onto your finger and you quickly opened one eye to take a peek and It didn't even take you a second to realize he had slipped an emerald ring from onto your finger.
“Draco. I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I thought I told you to keep your eyes shut.” He snapped.
“But I can’t take this.”
“I owed you a ring y/n.” He said holding your hand in his to look at the ring on your finger making a type of warmth spread over your entire body. “Keep it till I get the other ring made.”
You simply stared at the ring unable to form words with your mouth until you felt him shift beside you as he got back up to his feet.
“Don’t overthink it y/n—I’ll see you at the ball.”
You hummed as you quietly watched him walk away from you, ignoring the stab your felt in your heart with every step he took. But before you could process your emotions fully, Draco turned on his heel and walked towards you— instantly cupping your face in his hands.
“Draco what are-”
His lips ardently crushed yours before you could even finish your sentence
There was an abrupt kind of finality in the way he moved his lips against yours. It was like he was kissing you for the last time .
“I’ll be thinking of you y/l/n.”
To be continued..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 5 teaser:
Draco’s features softened as he slowly shifted and got up from the reading nook in his bedroom to fully open his window.
You shielded yourself as cold drops of rain started to hit your face. “What in the actual fuck?”
“Shut up and follow me.” He said as he climbed out of the window and onto the ledge.
“Are you mental?”
“Just do as I say.” He said helping you onto the ledge.
Both of you laughed hysterically as the rain seeped through our clothes as you sat on the ledge with you bare feet dangling in the air.
One wrong move and both of you could fall to your respective deaths. But there came an adrenaline rush with the risk of it all.
___________________________
WOS Tag list: @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @lieswithoutfairytales @dracomalfoys-wh0re @hannahhobnob @sycathorn-slush @mxl-foyrecs @daringvixon @linetteyde @imbadwithunsernames @dracoswhore007 @myunngi @goawayimreadingbeach @loxbbg @icedlattewithalmondmilk @paulina1998 @fa-me @loganrwebb @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep @leaveittobecca @dummythiccwitch @desiredmalfoy @badslytherin @dlmmdl @trainintersection @lilsubbyx @lunar0se10 @babydraco04 @anythings-n-everythings I adore y’all sm<3
You can join my tag list here or simply message me.
My other posts can be found here.
WOS Masterlist can be found here.
Love,
V
#harry potter#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#slytherin#draco fanfiction#draco malfoy#draco smut#draco x reader smut#draco x y/n#draco x slytherin!reader#draco malfoy smut
328 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! i was wondering if u could do a draco imagine where the reader & draco are prefects and they started to have feelings for each other and they both love to tease each other!! im bad at explaing things but i hope that made sense :) love ur writing btw <3
perfect prefect | draco malfoy
pairing: draco x reader
word count: 1,8k
summary: where y/n and draco love to tease each other
a/n: i hope you like this and that it lives up to your expectations <3
warnings: none
universe: harry potter
Like a shadow you move as quietly as possible through the dark corridors of the big School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, always careful not to be seen by anyone or to not directly walk into someone. You work your way through Hogwarts and its millions of angled hallways, walking close to the brick walls until you finally reach the stairs leading down to the dungeons and you carefully stride them down.
Just before you get downstairs, you suddenly hear a loud meow in the distance and hurriedly run up the stairs again and hide behind the closest corner, pressing your body firmly against the cold wall, holding your breath.
Carefully looking around the corner with your head, you can see the mean caretaker Filch walking up the stairs with his cat Mrs. Norris in the dark. Filch suspiciously looks in your direction through the straight and long corridor, holding up his dim lantern. Immediately, you pull your head back with a jerk, but thankfully hear his loud footsteps vanish in the distance as he goes away from your current position.
Just when you are about to breathe a sigh of relief and step out of your cover, it meows right in front of your feet, causing you to take a step back in shock.
Mrs. Norris is sitting right in front of you and angrily glares at you through her yellowish eyes while she meows louder and louder to draw her owner's attention to herself. The footsteps that had become quieter a short time before are now getting louder and closer by each second that passes.
Just before Filch is about to turn the corner and you are already preparing yourself for the worst, out of nowhere a hand covers your mouth from behind and pulls you back. Everything blurs in front of your eyes for a moment and when you have a clear view again, you are no longer in the corridor, but in an empty classroom.
Startled, you turn around, ready to fight your attacker, when you realize that the person is only your beloved friend, Draco Malfoy.
"Bloody hell, Draco! You scared me to death!", you sigh out loud, your hand on top of your heart which is pounding hard against your chest.
"But I saved you from Filch and his filthy animal", he proudly exclaims. "Without my help you would probably be on your way to Dumbledore by now."
"I am a prefect. He would probably have thought that I was doing my nightly rounds around Hogwarts and not that I was on my way to meet a certain someone", you defend yourself since you do not want to admit that he actually saved you from expulsion.
"Is this certain someone coincidentally incredibly good looking and does that certain someone have eyes in which you can lose yourself and see the star- Ouch!", he cries out loudly as you loosely slap his upper arm, walking past him to the door of the classroom to get out of there.
"That description does not apply to him at all. I am afraid I have to destroy your dreams", you tease him, a playful smile playing around your lips while you straighten the skirt of your uniform.
"Well, if so, then good luck strutting through the corridors on your own without getting caught", Draco shrugs nonchalantly and gives you a look you cannot quite interpret as he is now the one to walk past you, reaching the door before you can. Turning around to look over your shoulder from behind, you feel his hot breath against your neck.
"But when you have reached your desired destination, you will unfortunately not meet this certain someone, because this certain someone currently has to continue patrolling the hallways", he whispers in your ear, but cannot stop himself from giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you."
Quickly, you turn around and grab his wrist as he was just about to open the door, preventing him from leaving. With a devious grin he looks at you, silently waiting for you to say something.
"Stop it, you dumbass", you roll your eyes in playful annoyance and gently pull him closer to you, your faces now only inches apart. Draco's gaze switches between your beautiful, shimmering eyes to your full lips as he suddenly leans in and you close your eyes automatically.
You already feel Draco's breath against your lips when all of a sudden the door to the classroom is opened and Draco jumps away, quickly hiding you behind him, protecting you from the person that is now stepping into the room at this moment.
"Draco?"
"Blaise?"
"What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be checking the corridors?", Blaise asks him reproachfully and does not seem to have noticed you until you peek over Draco's shoulder and his eyes widen as he spots you.
"Oh, I see. So that is what you are doing in here. Gross", he says, disgusted, and grimaces accordingly. "Then I will not bother you two any longer-"
"Stop, Blaise! It is not like that!", you interrupt him and come out from behind Draco's back, pretending that there wasn't always something between you and Draco that everyone already knew about before you did yourself.
Blaise nods understandingly, but something on his face tells you that he does not believe a single word you just told him. Nevertheless, he says goodbye and leaves the room again, leaving Draco and you in an uncomfortable silence.
"That was close", Draco breathes out heavily and gently takes your smaller hand in his own. "Let us get out of here as well. I will take you back to your dormitory."
Turning around and wanting to pull you with him, he goes to the door but you do not move, which is why he looks back at you irritated, a big question mark over his head as to why you are not following him.
"I do not want to go", you say, barely audible, and look straight into his gray eyes. "We do not see each other very much lately and now that we have finally made it, you quickly want to get rid of me again. If you do not want to spend time with me anymore, then why don't you just tell me, Draco?"
"What are you even talking about, Y/N? You know that it is not true", Draco assures you, putting his hand on your temple, pulling your head towards him to place a kiss on your forehead. "I like you. Like a lot. I like you more than you know. How about we walk around together and you tell me about your week?"
Your face overflowing with joy, you nod in agreement and a happy smile forms on both of your faces. Draco takes your hand back in his and leads the way out of the empty classroom and into the corridor, but not without checking first that Filch or his cat are not coming around the corner at any moment.
You walk next to each other in silence for a few minutes until Draco finally speaks up as you walk down the stairs to the first floor, your hands still intertwined.
"Actually, you know, I should have deducted house points from you for your naughty nightly excursion", he tells you, looking straight ahead, but you can clearly see the grin on his lips regardless. Offended, you hit his upper arm again, this time a little bit harder than before.
"Very funny, you wag", you giggle softly. "If it wasn't for you, I would not have gotten out of my cozy and warm bed in the first place."
"So you are saying that you are doing all of this just for me?"
"Of course, Draco."
"How do I deserve this?", he abruptly stops you as you have reached the bottom of the stairs and wraps his hands around your waist. Your arms sneak around his neck by themselves and you do your best to fake a real looking thoughtful face.
"Because you are such an incredibly great and responsible prefect", you explain with a smile, but he just shakes his head in disappointment, probably expecting you to say something else, and breaks the eye contact, focusing his gaze to the ground.
"Have you ever doubted that? Who else should become head boy in our seventh year if not me?", he covers up his disappointment, questioningly raising one of his eyebrows at you.
"You?", you snort and move away from him, covering your mouth with your hand to prevent yourself from laughing too loud. Draco give you a extremely offended look while you are busy with keeping your laughing fit as quiet as possible.
"What is so funny!?"
"Oh, it is just.. Who is the one here that is always so extraordinary friendly to the first years? Like the one time last year when-"
"Okay, okay!", he interrupts your ramblings by putting his hand over your mouth. However, he is still not able to stop your giggling. "Can you please shut up?"
"I am in favor of Blaise becoming the head boy anyway. He is really good at what he does", you continue to tease the poor platinum haired boy and he rolls his eyes, this time literally, annoyed and continues on his patrol without you.
"Wait! Hold up! Where are you going?", you call after him before you catch up with him again. Because his facial expression, or rather his pout, already gives it away, you do not even have to ask what is wrong.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy. Are you jealous?"
"You wish."
"So you are", you whisper, more to yourself than to him, and stop in your tracks as he keeps walking.
"Hey, do not walk away like this!", you command and put your hand on his shoulder so that he actually comes to a stop. "You did not really take my words seriously, did you?"
Draco sighs dejectedly and lowers his head, but you are quick to put your hand under his chin and guide it up to make him look at you.
"Come on, Draco. You know I did not mean it. I actually think you are a great prefect and that you will become an even better head boy", you smile at him while you fix his green tie with your other hand, your cheeks a little bit red from being so close to him. "I always stand behind you."
Shyly making eye contact with him again, you notice the small smile on his lips and in the next moment you suddenly feel his tender lips pressed against your. He puts so much emotion into the kiss and your heart is about to jump out of your chest as he abruptly stops.
"I love you", he whispers against your lips after breaking the kiss. "I always did."
"I love you too", you smile blissfully happy, although he himself had known for a long time already. "My perfect prefect."
#draco imagine#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy headcanon#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy imagines#draco imagines#draco fanfiction#draco fic#draco ff#draco malfoy fic#draco malfoy ff#draco fluff#draco headcanon#hp imagines#hp imagine#harry potter x reader#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco x y/n#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#draco malfoy one shot#draco one shot
712 notes
·
View notes
Text
I write sins not tragedies - Andy Barber smut
The one where you’re Andy’s sugar baby and he loves seeing you in lingerie
Warnings: rough sex, daddy kink, sugar daddy relationship, infidelity (reader is the other woman), throatfucking, curses, some degrading name-calling in a very loving way
A/N: Day 5 of kinktober and I can’t believe I’m still keeping up with this! Prompts for today were daddy kink and lingerie!
Y/N’s P.O.V.
I didn’t even notice him entering the apartment, that’s how focused on my study session I was. But then two strong arms wrapped themselves around my torso and before I could even consider tensing up from the surprise, his cologne calmed my brain down and I was automatically melting against him.
“Hi, daddy.” I turned my head to the side to meet his eyes, but no such luck. He had buried his face against the crook of my neck, and his delicious beard was tickling me, making me thrash around in his arms.
“Hi, princess. I thought you’d missed me,” he mumbled against my skin, making me giggle. For someone who was constantly accusing me of being dramatic, he could be so much worser than me sometimes. Especially when he had a hard day in the office or in his family life.
“You know I always do. Did you have a rough day?” At that, he finally released me, allowing me to turn around on the bed so I could look him in the eye, taking notice of the dark patches underneath them. “Oh, Andy. I wish you’d take better care of yourself.”
My words brought a little smile to his face, and his eyes shined with a particular light as he looked at me, his hands cradling my cheeks. “You’re the only one who can take care of me properly.”
I tried not to show how he made me feel warm inside with just that one sentence, because I was honestly very worried about him, so I simply rolled my eyes. “Then I guess you have to move in, so I can take care of you 24/7, huh?”
It was just a teasing remark, I honestly didn’t have any second intentions with my words. I knew what I was getting into when Andy approached me with the proposition to become his sugar baby. I knew he was married and had a kid not that much younger than me and I never deluded myself into believing he’d simply abandon everything for me.
But when things got bad and I couldn’t be there for him when he actually needed me, that was the only time I second-guessed this entire arrangement. Because the truth was, I had fallen for him, hard. And it was difficult to remember he wasn’t mine to take care of most of the time.
“Please, ignore what I said. I didn’t mean it like that. Come here,” I begged, wrapping my hands around his suit’s lapels and pulling his weight down on the bed, so he’d be on top of me. Even frozen from the shock provoked by my words, he still easily followed, allowing me to cradle his face and kiss him all over until he was comfortable enough to talk again.
“Y/N…” He suddenly started, trying to push himself away from me, his voice in such a serious tone that I immediately knew what he was going to say, but I didn’t need to hear it. So I followed his movements, sitting up on the bed too, before covering his mouth with one of my hands, climbing on his lap.
“Please, Andy, don’t. Really. All I meant was… It doesn’t matter, you just don’t need to worry about it. I love what we have. I’m not asking for more. Promise.” He didn’t look like he trusted me that much, but then again, it could also be a bit of his own guilt as he stared me down with those expressive brown eyes of his. But I wouldn’t let him get dragged into that useless whirlwind, at least that I could do for him.
“Here, let me take your mind off of it. Wanna see something nice?” He still looked wary as he watched me get out of bed until I was standing in front of him, but after a few minutes and a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair and nodded.
“If it comes from you, always.” The tiny smile he gave me had my heart doing backflips in my chest, and I returned it with a much bigger one, hoping to show him that I really was fine. And then I started to push down my sweatpants, wiggling out of them before taking off my sweater too, until I was left with only my latest purchase.
The sound of Andy’s breath hitching was everything I needed to know I was in the right direction. The piece I was wearing was yellow with white little daisies that covered the places there were supposed to be lace or any sort of fabric. It was ridiculously expensive for something with so little, but the way Andy was looking at me made it seem worthy.
He always did have a thing for seeing me in lingerie. Well, I didn’t know if it was me, specifically, just that it was the first thing he started to gift me just as soon as he covered all the essentials I needed to live.
For a long time, they were all that I had except for his impromptu gifts that always consisted of new lingerie pieces and some other frivolous thing, like a designer bag or some jewels, and I always accepted it with gratitude but insisted that he didn’t have to bother. I liked him and all I needed was for his help with the bills, but still, he wouldn’t have it.
He’d say that spoiling me was the best part of his week and that me accepting what he got me was one of the things I needed to do for him in return, so really, what could I do? The problematic part was when he started to include in the allowance money that he gave me to buy groceries a few hundred dollars supposed to be destined for me to buy some new pieces myself.
He wanted to be surprised, he said. As much as he loved to pick out some pieces for me and imagine me in them before actually getting to see them against my skin, he also wanted to have me amaze him once in a while. And this was the first time I finally got the courage to do so.
“Babygirl, you look so…” Immediately jumping back into the mindset that I wanted him to be in, I silently congratulated myself not only on being able to distract him but also for my choice in underwear. “Delicious,” was the word he settled in, the hand that was holding mine as I twirled around for him to get a full-view suddenly disappearing as he stood upright in front of me, towering over my scantily-clad body with his full height while still wearing his suit.
The way he was looking at me had me shivering under his gaze, and he smirked when he noticed, just before dropping to his knees and grabbing one of my legs to put it over his shoulder. “In more ways than one…”
And then his tongue was right over my pussy, a single finger from the hand that wasn’t helping me stay up curled against my underwear to allow him to move freely. He hummed at my taste, making my knees instantly buckled. “How the fuck are you so delicious, huh, babygirl?”
Before I could even consider answering, he sucked on my clit, making me release a strangled gasp as I tried to keep myself up, a hand on his hair and the other on his shoulder. He knew how hard it was for me to do anything when his face was buried against me, knew how talented he was with that tongue, but still, he didn’t have any pity for me.
“Answer daddy,” he admonished, slapping the back of one of my thighs, almost making me fall to my knees. “C’mon, sweet girl. You know how much I hate when you leave me unanswered.”
Taking a deep breath to try to gather my thoughts, it was hard for me to even remember what it was that he’d asked me in the first place. Finally, after another slap, this one over my ass, which he took the opportunity to grab after, I managed to spill out an “I-I don’t know, daddy.”
It wasn’t the answer Andy wanted, that much I knew, so it didn’t surprise me too much when he detached myself from my pussy after one last lick, before getting up to his full height, his hands immediately going to his belt.
“You know that’s not good enough, baby. Get on your knees for me.” I bit on my lower lip to stop a smile from appearing on my face, for the sake of our game. This was supposed to be a punishment, I knew that. I couldn’t very well just show him how eager I was to have his taste on my tongue again.
But the smirk he sported as he slapped his cock against my cheek let me know he was well aware of the fact. The number of times I’d been called his cockslut, after all, couldn’t very well be forgotten by the very man who had trained me to take him like a pro.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking, sweetheart,” he warned, making me bite the inside of my cheek to stop the giggles that I could feel rising through my chest. “But if you let daddy fuck your throat the way he likes, he just might give you what you want. Open up,” he orders and I, ever dutifully and simply his, do exactly as he says, my tongue sticking out to welcome his weight on my mouth.
“Shit, baby, I always forget how incredible you feel,” he comments mindlessly, and despite knowing it was nothing less than a compliment, it hurts my chest for a moment the possibility of him going home and simply pretending that I don’t exist, ignoring how great I can make him feel.
Blinking away the tears that were already rising under my eyelids, I couldn’t really attribute them to the lack of oxygen yet, but I was hoping the excuse would fit if one managed to escape. So I blindly reached out for Andy’s ass and pulled him to me, effectively choking myself on his dick.
“Jesus fucking CHRIST, what has gotten into you today?” He asked as he pulled me back from his cock by my hair, and I coughed a bit as I gathered my breath, before shaking my head as well as I could while he kept his grip on me.
“Nothing, daddy. I just really want to pleasure you.” He looked suspicious again, but now wasn’t the time to inquire about it. Not when his cock was throbbing, the red tip leaking precum drops that you were too eager to lap up. “Fuck, okay. But stay put, alright, princess? Let daddy decide the pace.”
Your mouth-watering at the sight of him helped the blowjob immediately become sloppy, just like he liked. “Fuckkkk. Just like that, baby girl. Now, relax your throat, okay?” I did as he said, allowing him to dip my head back as I reminded myself to breathe through my nose before he immediately started to fuck his cock on my throat, provoking my gag reflex to act up and the tears to start again.
“Hold it, baby. We both know you can. Don’t you like it when daddy’s cock is nested inside your pretty throat? When you can’t breathe and it’s all because of me?” His hand gripped my neck, aiding the asphyxiation as he felt himself inside of me. “Oh, yeah. See? This is why daddy loves coming to see you. Only you can treat him so. fucking. well.”
After a particularly hard thrust that left me coughing out my lungs, he pulled me to my feet by my hair before throwing me on the bed, face down. “And since you’ve been such a good little girl for daddy, he’ll give you what you want.”
I could feel my wetness dripping down my thighs as I heard him open the condom packet. Just the sound of the foil was enough to make me whimper. Behind me, I could hear Andy chuckle at my eagerness.
“Such a good little princess for me. So crazy for my cock, huh?” The blunt head of his length rubbing against my throbbing clit was exactly enough to get me even needier for him. I sucked in a breath as he teased me for a little while, rubbing himself over my opening but never actually pushing in.
Andy’s P.O.V.
“Y-yes, daddy. Only for your cock.” Fuck, she just knew exactly what to say to make me lose control. This was precisely why I needed her so much. Why I couldn’t even feel bad about what I was doing. Not when she was the only one with whom I could actually be myself.
Thrusting inside of her for the first time in a night was always the best feeling, probably akin only to walking through the gates of heaven, perhaps because that’s what she was to me: my own little piece of heaven, my angel on Earth.
“You okay, sweetheart?” I asked, my heart overflowing with emotions I couldn’t allow myself to feel as I carefully brushed the strands of her hair away from her face, so I could hold them all in my makeshift ponytail. When she hummed in agreement, that’s when I felt comfortable enough to start thrusting in and out of her, appreciating the wet sounds of her pussy trying to keep my cock inside of her.
“Daddy… please…” She begged, her hands reaching forward to hold onto the duvet of her bed while I abided by her desires and started to fuck into her harder. She really was my other half, the only one who understood and reciprocated my needs.
“Daddy got you, little one. Just hold on tight.” Her hands practically curled into fists, I started to fully pound her against the mattress, one of my hands coming around her to hug her back to me, while I played with her clit. “Such a perfect little girl for your daddy. Now daddy needs you to cum around him, can you do that, princess? Can you be a good girl for me?”
The dirty talk always got to her, and within seconds she was trembling in my arms, gasping in need of air as her pussy milked my cock until all of my cum was safely inside the condom.
I could still remember when we had that discussion. I obviously had wanted to fuck her raw, but that was one of the only limits she established right away. “You’re still gonna be fucking your wife, I need to be safe.”
The fact that I hadn’t felt anything when she pointed out that if I was cheating, Laurie could very well be doing the same, should have shown me just how screwed up I was. “Princess…” I started after cleaning us both with a wet towel from the bathroom. She looked up at me expectantly, obviously curious about what I had to say, but the seconds our eyes met, she already knew the subject I was going to approach.
“No, Andy. Let it go! We’ve been through this already.” Sighing, I couldn’t help but smile as I sat down by her side on the bed, as always fascinated by the fact that she could so easily read what was on my mind.
“As incredible as you are, baby girl, I don’t think you know precisely what I got to say, and the truth is, I need you to hear this.” She shut her mouth at that, but still pouted, showing me how skeptical she was.
Chuckling softly, I held her hands in mine before caressing her cheek, trying to show her through the intensity of my gaze that my words were 100% honest. “The reason I got so shocked by what you said was that I was overcome with the desire to do just that. To move in here, with you.”
For a few seconds, no one said anything. It was just her and me, her eyes twice their usual size as she blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what I had just said. “But, Andy…” Sighing, I already knew what she was going to say, so I just squeezed the hand I was still holding, signaling that she didn’t need to say anything yet.
“I know, baby. I know.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, hugging her to me and giving a kiss on her forehead, hoping that she could once again understand what I wanted to say, even if I couldn’t yet put it into words. “I just wanted you to know.”
#andy barber#andy barber smut#smut#my fics#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber fan fiction#andy barber one shot#andy barber reader#andy barber one-shot#andy barber x reader#andy barber imagine#andy barber imagine fanfiction
718 notes
·
View notes
Text
atsumu x reader; motion sickness - chapter three.
summary; atsumu wants to get to know reader better, and somehow convinces her to take him to the ice rink
content warnings; nsfw content, public sex, unprotected sex (nothing will come from it), dom/sub undertones
a/n; i hope u enjoy!! i think from here on out i get more into the swing of things and much prefer my writing so i hope u do too! reblogs/thoughts are v appreciated <3
ao3 | series masterlist | main masterlist | 18+ minors dni
Choosing to wake up alone means the bed is cool and spacious. You can roll over and feel nothing. Sheets fold against your body, swallowing you whole. No need to tug them away, they are all for you. You push the thoughts away too, the idea that there could have been a warmth to tuck into. All throughout your routine you ignore how someone else could fit into it.
Breakfast alone stings a little more, the hotel full of families and teams. You’re more aware now at the buffet, of the many muscular men that stand around in groups. They pile plates high of the day's energy. Wildebeest at the watering hole, you note to yourself. If there was anyone to eye roll at, you would. You notice you don’t see a certain head of toned blond hair. Not that you’re looking for it, you remind yourself.
People watching is best done on your own however, and your eyes flit between young couples, children spilling honey down their chins, and people desperate for the relief of caffeine.
Alone is safe and comforting. An observer, as Faiz would often call you. Watching and analysing and playing with the stories in your mind. You can live through the honeyed child, the tired parent. Give them a job, a goal, a life. It’s fun to enter their space, if for a moment.
The moment ends as Faiz breaks into your thoughts, fragments of faux futures shatter around you. “I have a challenge for you today.”
“Oh?”
“I want you to trust me,” the cheeky glint in his eye makes you want to do anything but.
“You already know I do.” His overjoyed energy is infectious, and your morning of distraction in other people’s brains has been replaced. You can feed off him to feel full. “What are you planning?”
“So, before you ask he’s down,” he begins, grinning at your raised brow, “but I think you should work with Makito today.” You chew on your toast for a minute, thinking through what Faiz is really asking. Or telling, as is more often when it comes to your coach.
“It’s for p—”
“Passion, you dumbass.”
“—ssion, isn’t it? Oi.” you go to flick his forehead, but he’s too quick and instead gets yours. “Ow, Faiz. Insulting and hurting me? Your favourite skater?”
“My favourite skater you may be, but you also need to score well. And I’ve got a plan.”
He drones on for a while, about how working with Makito is going to help create an environment where you’re performing for someone in particular. If you are embers, he will try and find someone or something to breathe the fire into you. You see how much he’s thought about this, and hey, you’re willing to give it a go if it might help.
As you make your leave from the hotel restaurant, you bump into something. Firm and tall and moving in such an ecstatic manner that it’s almost difficult to believe it’s so early in the morning. The someone grabs your shoulders, almost picking you up to move you to his side. You fluster, and they lean down to you.
“Sorry, sorry! Apparently way too hungry for breakfast,” his voice is deep but keeps the same energy as his movements. “Wait, do I know you?”
And then you see it. Another flashback to your night of heavy drinking. A shock of white and black hair, and bird-like features. “Barely, I think. I was drinking with your,” you’re not sure what term to settle on, “teammate, I think? Atsumu?”
“Yes, Tsum Tsum’s girl! Hey!”
“I’m not—”
“She’s not—”
And there he is. Sun gold hair still damp from an early shower. He looks like the warmth you were missing that morning. You didn’t miss it, you correct your runaway thoughts. It’s just a feeling you were once used to.
“Oh. Awkward. Well, breakfast calls!”
Like that the owl flees the nest.
“I should get going,” you say, shuffling past him as an attempt to run from the atmosphere. You don’t need to talk about it, or what you did. Hookups are a lot easier when you’re not both staying at the same hotel.
“I meant what I said, by the way,” he calls after you, waiting a second for you to turn. You shouldn’t turn around. Not if you don’t want to give him the chance to offer again. But it’s like his voice has a command over you, and you pause briefly. He rewards you with the easy curl of his lips and the way it shows in his cheeks. A small flash of hope in his eyes. “I’ll teach you a spike for a spin.”
At least there’s someone for you to roll your eyes at now.
“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“Glad ya keepin’ up.”
Atsumu is quickly realising that you don’t quite speak your mind. It’s always you won’t take no, you don’t have to. It’s so far never been, I’m interested, I want that. There’s something about the way your brain is wired that makes him curious. Not that he would tell you about the other women that have flit through his life, but his type usually falls under demanding, high strung. Osamu would tease him that he dates reflections of himself. They could barely be considered dates, if he really looks into it. It’s always to bars and parties, his ‘date’ enjoying the expensive alcohol or his teammates.
Maybe he does have a jealous streak. When he goes for those who throw themselves at him, he never quite expects them to do the same to his teammates in turn. It’s nice to be wanted though, if only as a stepping stone.
If you are not demanding, it would only be natural to assume you are easy or effortless. But you are not that either. You need persuasion and nudging to agree to the course you want anyway.
You are a curiosity, Atsumu thinks as you enter the rink together. His practice isn’t till late, your schedules are so perfectly mis-aligned.
The not-boyfriend from the bar is here too, pushing off the seats to greet you. Atsumu stays back and lets you explain the situation, giving a polite nod when Faiz is introduced as your coach. He relaxes more when Faiz gives him a grin, one that spills with knowledge of late night escapades.
“So, you’re the guy?”
“Am I the guy?” he questions you, and as your eyes once again move to roll, he speaks again, “y’know, your eyes might get stuck like that one day.”
“I told her the same thing!” Faiz laughs, patting Atsumu’s back. “She’s always doing it too, as if I’m so below her.”
“Both of you should stop talking.” It’s cute, he thinks. Your little pout that you probably think looks oh so stern. Brows knitted and a finger to your temple. A kindergartner would laugh in your face.
“Faiz, I hate to break it to you. But she didn’t deny it.” His hand squeezes Faiz’s shoulder, a look of woe playing on his face. The coach responds with a hand clasped to his chest, stepping back as if your words have shot him.
He mutters your name under his breath, as if shocked by the revelation. “You’ve been using me all this time? And here I thought we were friends.” Faiz looks between you, lips trying so hard to fight a smile, and the beaming blonde next to him. “And him? You’re using him for se—”
Your eyes widen, and your hand immediately goes to slap your palm over Faiz’s mouth. “Okay! Okay, I get it! Very funny Faiz, very funny Atsumu. You’re both first class athletes and comedians.”
There’s murmuring that comes from the fingers covering Faiz, and you open them just enough for Faiz to let you, “was it any good at least?” before you close them again.
Atsumu goes to open his mouth, goes to prod more fun in your direction. But your hand goes from Faiz’s mouth, to his hand, and you’re pulling him and his words away.
“Please not in the locker room,” Faiz calls in your general direction, to which you pull your signature middle finger back at him.
“Are we gonna do it in the locker room?” Atsumu asks, praying the slight element of hope is hidden by the teasing. How easy it would be to guide your hand in his, move it towards your waistband.
“You wish.” He does.
“I like your coach.” Atsumu leans against the rows of lockers, watching you swap shoes for skates, “seems more fun than mine.”
“He knows me better than anyone. And he’s honest, doesn’t hide anything,” you speak as if it's routine. A question that has an automatic answer. “I already regret letting you two meet.”
“Oh c’mon, Golide,” he trails after you, admiring how on earth you can walk so comfortably on blades. “We both know you enjoy it.”
“You need me to say it?” you question as you step on the ice, whisking away before he can respond.
Maybe he doesn’t need you to say it, but he certainly wants you to. There’s elements of your attitude that Atsumu wants to learn. Why you very clearly have walls up, and how he can seep into the cracks.
Faiz comes to stand next to him, both of them watching as you move across the ice. Now you do seem effortless. Atsumu is sure it takes huge effort for you to push yourself across the ice, but somehow it looks like you prefer it to walking.
“So,” Faiz begins, and Atsumu knows the tone of the protective friend, “you like her?”
As much as you can after hanging out with someone a couple of times. Atsumu knows he’s become curious. Is that liking you? It sounds like something a teenager would say. So far he knows he likes aspects of you. Your smile, first of all. The banter between you both is easy, it keeps him on his toes. Your moans and sarcasm are both equally sweet.
“Something like that.”
Faiz hums thoughtfully and Atsumu thinks he’s not going to do it, and that he doesn’t need to make any promises. “Just be nice to her. She deserves that.”
It’s a weird way to phrase don’t hurt her, but Atsumu nods nonetheless. Just like that the men are back to smooth and easy jokes and discussions of career.
Eventually another man, the other not-boyfriend Atsumu recalls, joins them, and Faiz bids his goodbyes. They both go towards you on the rink, and so your new lesson begins.
Makito is almost giddy to work with you. His movements are too quick and too erratic for you to feel calm. Your head is usually clear in practice. Knowing where the exact places your skates should be, the extension of your hands. But it’s fogged doing it with someone else, as well as knowing two pairs of eyes are watching.
You had begun by simply holding on to one another, doing the most basic of motions to make sure you were working together well, and that no one was going to trip over the other. Deeming it a success, Faiz had moved onto the next challenge.
“Remember, this is all about feeling with Makito,” he instructs, putting both your hands on each other, “I want to see you responding to him. Acting the part.” Pretending to be in love is what he really means.
You both move across the ice, you’re meant to be jumping into Makito’s lap and the two of you leaning back to balance the weight. The idea is to make it look sexy, alluring, erotic. All words that you think far from describe you.
From the edge of the rink Atsumu wolf whistles, and he imagines the eye roll, although he’s not sure he likes the idea of that so much when you’re seated in someone else's lap.
“Makito, how did that feel?” Faiz quizzes.
He winces, looking sheepishly towards you before he answers. “Like she thought she was going to fall.”
“Did you think you were going to fall?” He directs the question your way, but you think he knows the answer. Curse him understanding you inside and out.
“I- I don’t know. Trying so hard to look romantic I didn’t think about much else.”
It goes on like that for long enough that you’re both sweating. The same song plays on repeat as you go through set movements again and again. It makes it feel like both so much and so little time is passing. Even Atsumu is just flicking through his phone now. Why did you say yes to him coming again? You know Faiz can feel your agitation, the way you bristle each time he instructs you to look a certain way. If trying your best was enough, you’d be done by now.
“Go. Take a break,” Faiz instructs. He’ll give you some time to cool off as he always does, letting you work it out isolated. It’s what works best for your brain. A whole other routine, walking away and turning music up far too loud. Stewing in it all. Absorbing yourself in the negative feelings until you can push them away or find something to distract yourself from them.
It feels like you should be alone this time. Too many wrong buttons pushed and you could snap at someone only to regret it. Too bad for you that you said yes to your newest irritant.
“You looked awesome” Atsumu begins, looking up from whatever feed he’s swiping through. He can barely finish the sentence before your face causes him to falter.
There are two pairs of steps echoing down the hallway, the creak of a rusty hinge swinging twice. Hopes of a lonesome sanctuary in the locker room are dashed.
“Hey, you okay?”
His face is full of concern, which puzzles you. Your fingers struggle to unlace your shoes. Must you struggle with everything when it comes to your profession? Maybe a distraction would be better.
“Goldie?”
The nickname bounces around in your mind, coupled with I’ve got you. Your shoes are off and next comes your sweater. Tugging it over your head and discarding it unceremoniously on the floor.
“Do you need anything?”
Perspiration still clings to your body, coming down from your workout on the ice. He is standing there, so big, so broad. It’s like a magnet is drawing you closer. He is a distraction wrapped in an aggravatingly handsome face and strong body.
“Yes, I do.”
His eyes flick down to your chest, heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat. Not the time, Atsumu. You’re looking up at him through your lashes, and his lips part, thinking about- not the time. He thought it was annoyance in your eyes, but the darkness seems to hold a different weight. Fists are balled by your side, and he’s not sure if you’re holding yourself back from punching a wall or something else.
“Fuck me, Atsumu.”
“What?” His brain is short circuiting, he thinks. ‘It’s not the time’ he repeats again and again. He’d promised to be nice to you and suddenly he’s not sure if that means talking you down or engaging with you in all the ways he wants to.
“You wanted to, right? Just fuck me.”
All of your body language is screaming at him to grab you and pull you in. Your palm crosses against his pectorals, your fingers curling to tease your nails down past his naval.
“You want me to beg Atsumu?” On tip toes you can push your body against his. Low and whispered against your voice is at the shell of his ear. “You want me to say please?”
The tensing of his muscles underneath his shirt makes you not want to pull away. You want Atsumu to want you. No, you want him to need you. To show you that you’re good for something. So you fall back on your feet, starting to turn away, heart dropping for a moment when he stays still. Maybe you’re the desperate one.
But then his hand grips around your arm, pushing you firmly against the row of lockers. His mouth crushes yours before you can even think of teasing him. Gripping under your ass, he brings your legs around his waist. You smile into the kiss as you notice he’s already half hard.
He almost growls into your sigh, realising that he does not have easy access to you like this. Slow ruts against you, easily bringing you against his crotch as Atsumu keeps you stuck between his body and the lockers. He needs convincing to let you away from him for even a second. “Say it again.”
“Please Atsumu. Please fuck me.”
It tips him over, sends him into some sort of feral need for your cunt. Dropping and rotating you, pushing you back up against the cool metal.
Fingers rip at your leggings and panties, rolling them just far enough down your ass. You think he may manage to leave you with bruises when he grabs your hips again. He is always on you, whether it’s his tongue on your neck, his hands pulling down your cami to cup your tits.
Your hands scramble behind you, desperately trying to pull at his pants. He’s quick to entertain you, bringing them down and tugging his cock a few times.
Foreplay be fucking damned. You think you’re wet enough, or at least the stretch and burn of Atsumu buried inside you will be enough to sedate your over active mind. “I need you inside me. I n- need you to fill me, ‘Tsumu.”
As much as Atsumu wants to treasure your body, give you all that you deserve, the pure desire that fills your voice drives him into a new space entirely.
His head presses at that tight ring of muscle, letting himself be lathered in your slick. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes it between his teeth to let it slowly drop on his cock. You whine, begging more and more. Pushing yourself back on him as best you can with your waistband keeping your thighs pressed together.
Atsumu’s thumb pushes his spit around your already stretched hole, then moving down to press against your clit. It’s enough for him to fully sheath himself, giving you the delicious burn you were hoping for.
You’ve never been fucked like this. Never been needy enough to beg for it, and fuck, maybe it’s because Atsumu seemed so eager to make you feel good before. Maybe it’s that you know you don’t have to feel anything more than his length pushing against your satin walls again and again. You’ll go home, and all the deranged things your mind made you do can stay here.
Words fall from your lips, you’ve been the one talking- begging so far. “Harder, please, please, please, fuck yes.” One large hand is holding your elbows together behind you, the other plucking at your nipples or passing over your clit. He can’t make his mind up, each one drawing a new sound from you until you're babbling under him. Going from nothing to having Atsumu smacking his hips against your ass, oversensitive everywhere as you’re grabbed and played with.
“Yeah? You can’t even beg for it anymore, huh?”
Glazed over eyes look back at him, as if his cock has been a complete shock to your system.
But you’re defiant. “P-Please,” he makes out through your gritted teeth.
It makes him think of things you both could do. Things that need safe words and more trust than he feels you’re willing to give.
He’s close, feeling his abdomen and thighs tingle and tighten. There’s some part of him that wants you to be open to ideas, open to the trust that they’d need. He would need it.
Quick thrusts slow. Atsumu moves deep and slow, his hand letting your arms go and wrapping under your chest. He almost fully pulls out before driving back in, leaving you gulping for air in short gasps. His fingers massage your clit, and instead of mocking you he’s whispering encouragement.
“You feel so good, so, hah, s’fuckin’ good. Wan— wanna make you feel it all, wanna make you feel good.”
You don’t even realise your satin walls are fluttering around him, but Atsumu does. The tightness of your pussy around him makes him want to fill you up with his cum, and then he realises. No condom. Fuck. He looks at your fucked out face, eyebrows raising in bliss.
More whispered praise against your ear, and now you can feel it too. The coil in your stomach that’s making you tighten, making you open your eyes in surprise. He’s not saying it, but all you can think about is Atsumu saying “I’ve got you” because you’re so sure he does. Holding you up and close to his body, wanting you to also feel the pleasure you can see etched across his handsome features.
Before you realise it’s happening you're falling, spasming around his cock. Repeating “‘Tsumu, ‘tsumu, ‘tsumu” in a rapturous melody. Moans echo around the locker room, and Atsumu’s pulling out from between your plush folds, leaving you to clench around nothing. His cum coats your ass, jerking himself off to completion, wishing so hard it was your cunt milking every drop from him.
Slow and sweet kisses pepper your shoulder and neck, the cheek that isn’t pressed into the metal. “You feel good?” he says softly between pecks.
“Yeah, I… I needed that.” His thumbs massage into your hips, as if he’s working out the bruises that will definitely be there tomorrow. It’s another show of care that leaves you unsettled. “Feel better without your cum on my ass.”
Atsumu lets out a low chuckle, and he steps back to admire his work. A pretty painting, if he says so himself. Tucking himself away, he has to leave you standing awkwardly to run and grab tissues. There’s sincerity in how he cleans you up too, not quick and hurried as he should be. His fingers smooth over the curve of your ass, leaving more kisses in his wake.
Once you’re clean, he neatens your hair and pulls your leggings back up. You smooth out your smudged mascara and you both head back towards the rink. It’s too quiet for too long, but before you can interrupt the silence he does.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Hmm?” you hum.
“You said you needed it. Frustrated about something?”
The cold hits you both as you push open the doors into the rink. Makito and Faiz nod at you both before going back to their conversation. Probably about how much you suck at anything close to passion, you think, the feelings you’d just managed to smother becoming too quick to resurface.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” His eyebrows deepen and his brown eyes are full of so much sincerity you can’t help but go on. “So, I did pairs skating for a while, like what you saw earlier.”
He lets out little hums as you talk, reassuring notes of interest. “But then I moved to singles, and lost the spark and, uh—”
“The passion.” Fuck Faiz and his fucking passion. Atsumu grins at him for a moment, and you’re waiting for the onslaught of teasing to begin, but it doesn’t. His eyes return to you, his smile stays, dropping from cheeky into something softer.
“That. Passion, the desire, the,” you gesture wildly, “the stuff that turns it from spins and jumps into a performance.”
“And that’s what you were doing with your friend?” Atsumu points at Makito.
“The lift? Yeah, seeing if I’ve still got it in pairs.”
In a flash Atsumu is lifting you for the second time today, grabbing you by the waist despite your “hey!” Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the breath being pulled from you as he manhandles you easily.
One large palm spreads across your back, and your body is running on it’s latest experience, curving back. Is he also thinking about what just happened, thinking about how he was going to take you like this? His face still holds onto something dark, his eyes lingering with lust. You pray your own doesn’t betray you, that you can feign it as surprise.
“That’s it! That’s the look!” Atsumu and you both turn to your coach.
His eyes wide and excited, both hands pointing at your face. Faiz is almost jumping up and down on the spot. “That’s what will make people notice! You did it!”
Your cheeks warm, watching Atsumu try to lean back also, replicating what he saw Makito do earlier. He’s strong and beautiful and everything you’re sure many women want. But with his eyebrows drawn in deep concentration, trying so hard to be elegant… He looks utterly ridiculous. Like that you’re giggling, hands having to loop around his neck to keep yourself from laughing your way to the floor.
You sound so good when you laugh. The challenge of getting it out of you is what first caught Atsumu. A smile made his drunken self feel gooey. Now sober, the noise of you trying to even your breathing as you give him a full bodied laugh. It makes him want to cup your face, marvel at your eyes creasing, the way the corners of your lips curl.
“And it’s gone again.” Faiz sighs, but it’s warm and full of so many emotions but not disappointment.
Eyes full of sweet browns and honey catch you off guard. He’s looking too intently at you. Your smile fades, body going more rigid in his hands. Atsumu lets you drop, making sure you’re steady before his hands move from your waist.
Practice starts back up, Atsumu watching from the sidelines. He can’t hear the discussion well enough between the trio on the ice, and soon his attention splits back between you and his phone.
His thumbs move quickly, typing out a ‘you’ll never believe what just happened’ to the MSBY group chat before he pauses, and presses against the backspace. To share what just happened feels wrong. It felt a little too personal. You needed him for a moment. If he was to tell the team, it’d be a fun anecdote. There’s the chance they could piece together it was with you, and if he can convince you to come to a game…
Atsumu doesn’t want to mess it up.
So instead his fingers take him to a different message, and start to type again.
Me // 11:21am
>> oi, i got a question for u
Samu🍙 // 11:24am
>> yes you need to wash everywhere. including there.
Me // 11:24am
>> ok
>> guess i’ll ask someone else
>> scrub
Samu🍙 // 11:24am
>> don’t be a baby
>> what’s up
His quick typing stops for a moment, watching you jump into Makito’s lap once more, and then the three of you are grinning and high fiving.
Me // 11:25am
>> have u ever liked someone
>> like liked
Samu🍙// 11:25am
>> are you 12 years old
>> i’ve had literal girlfriends
>> i’m trying to get ready for the lunch rush and you’re asking me about crushes?
Me // 11:25am
>> is a few days too soon to know
Samu🍙// 11:26am
>> depends i guess
>> you like someone?
Atsumu doesn’t know how to respond to that, so just hits the call button.
“I told you I’m tryna be prepared,” Osamu immediately berates his older brother, talking about how there’s only so much time before he’s going to be swarmed.
“Well, if ya shut it for a minute, I’d be able to talk.”
“Fine. So who’s my favorite twin crushin’ on?” he asks the question in a song, making Atsumu regret the call in the first place.
“I’m your only twin, dumbass,” he mutters, interrupting Osamu before they go off topic again. “I don’t know if I like her. We’ve hooked up a few times,” a gross comes from down the line, “but she’s just cool. I don’t know, dude. I just want to get to know her more.”
“So what does it matter if you like her? Just get to know her.” Coming from Osamu it seems simpler. Sometimes his thoughts can run off, get muddled and confused and overwhelming. But Osamu’s always been the calmer, the one who can keep him on track and call him out when he needs it. If Atsumu is a boat in a storm, Osamu is the anchor.
A few more words are spoken back and forth, general housekeeping to know what’s happening in each other's lives, before Osamu has to work, and Atsumu is left with his thoughts. There’s still that annoying doubt at the back of his mind. A little worm that’s dug so far down, even with someone else helping it’s hard to get out.
What if you don’t like him?
You apologise for his cold rosy cheeks and how long he had to sit and watch. He reassures you that he had fun, the both of you headed back outside into the heat of the city. You fall into place easily next to one another, walking by the river rather than ordering a car back to the hotel. Atsumu had persuaded you, protesting that without the warmth of the sun, how could he ever regain feeling in his nose.
“Next time you’ll have to get me on the ice.”
“You already impressed Faiz so much, are you sure you’re ready for the career change?”
“I’m sure a publicist could work it,” he’s quick to respond, holding hands out wide in front of the both of you, “I can see it now. The great Miya Atsumu conquers the ice skating world. Is there anything he can’t get gold in?”
“Real humble, Miya,” you say with an exasperated smile.
“Miya?” he echoes, “and here I thought I was gonna get a nickname.”
You’re either looking up at him with a quizzical stare or the afternoon sun is in your eyes. Either way Atsumu notes that it’s a cute expression, one that brings out the flecks of colour in your irises.
Pausing for a moment, people shuffle around you, going about their days in the city. Bringing his lips to your ear, you can feel the width of his smile on your cheek. “‘Tsumu, ‘Tsumu, please ‘Tsumu” he whispers the whines - your whines - much to your dismay.
Pushing him away, you’re only reminded of the hard planes of his abs, and now there’s definitely heat rising in your face. “Shut it Miya,” you wish you said with more defiance. Your grumble let’s him know he’s won your embarrassment.
“Thought ya liked it when I talked,” he teases, twisting you around by the shoulder to keep walking. The way you try and avoid eye contact only makes him want it more, and deciding between poking fun and giving in is all too difficult.
You come around quickly though, Atsumu using his seemingly effortless charisma to smooth over jokes, bring you back out of your shell. There’s a feeling that he can, innately, get people on his side. Despite his seeming arrogance and over-confidence, he takes the quips you throw at him on his shoulder. Letting deep chuckles spill off his tongue and reassuring touches whenever he responds in a similar jest.
Atsumu tugs you left and right, pointing your way back to the hotel with ease. The walk proves longer than the twenty minutes Google Maps promised you, trusting Atsumu when he says he ‘knows these streets like the back of his hand’. He does know them pretty well, at least knows that right turns should in fact be left. But the banter and laughter you two are sharing is doing more to him than the sun. It’s still surface level, discussions about plans for the week, where your home is. There’s a segment featuring each of your favorite colours, foods and films.
“Really? Rear Window?”
“What? It’s a classic!”
“The fact that you’ve even seen it surprises me.”
He goes on to explain that yes, it was the only film available at the hotel, but that he admired the determination of the main character. You wouldn’t have pegged him for watching anything considered old, or classic, let alone admiring the story. “And Grace Kelly, right?”
“I mean,” he begins sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck “yeah but—”
Your giggles quiet him.
Eventually you’re back where it began, standing outside the hotel looking at one another.
“So, are you goin’ give me your number or am I goin’ to have to beg you for it?”
“Oh, there’s a chance you’ll beg for it?”
You don’t miss the glint in his eyes, flashing quickly before it passes. “Is that a no, Goldie?”
It would be easier if it was a no. Your hands are acting on want, pulling your phone out and handing it to him with contact screen open before you can think too much about it.
“You better text me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Atsumu hopes that you will. Maybe asking him to a meal or if you need him again, to your room. He settles that want next to another. No running before you can even walk. Like Osamu said, just getting to know one another.
Afternoon practice is long. Time spent sweating and running and jumping for hours away from his phone. He’s thinking about hyper active teammates, making sure he’s setting just right for them. Touching you right. All of his energy spent on the blue and yellow ball before him. Spending his energy on you. Then he’s on to letting his mind be consumed by proteins and carbs and what he can eat over the next week. Maybe just a film in, rather than dinner out. Thinking about Kiyoomi who’s acting all analytical, watching the group and remarking on Atsumu’s performance.
“You seem distracted.”
But he’s not, of course. He can laugh it off and joke around with Bokuto in the locker room. Purposefully not thinking about earlier in the day. His heart wouldn’t race when he finally can open up his phone. It wouldn’t thump in his chest when he checks his notifications.
Unknown Number // 5:48pm
>> i can’t think of anything cool to say so
>> hi tsumu✨
#atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader smut#haikyuu smut#miya atsumu#atsumu#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#haikyuu x y/n#atsumu smut#atsumu fic#atsumu multichapter#haikyuu fic#ven; motion sickness
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ethereal - Jeong Jaehyun
Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.
Characters: Jeong Jaehyun x reader
Category: fluff, au, life lessons
Word count: 16.7k
Warnings: drinking (but nothing too major), emotions, a lot of it.
Writer’s notes: it’s been a hooooooot minute and this is a lot of words. how have you all been? ;; skdjsjskd this was written in 2 weeks that consisted of a lot of urges to pull my hair out and constantly squeezing my brains for words and words and words. but nonetheless, I had so so much fun writing this, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I wish I had a Jaehyun in my life skdjlksjd hope you enjoy this you guys! <3 stay safe, keep healthy! lots and lots and lots of love to all of you as always x
Winter one.
There’s an indescribable feeling settling on Jaehyun’s chest when he leisurely looks down at the view below him from where he stands by the ledge of the Fisherman’s Bastion. He’s smiling contently to himself, dimples appearing but remaining hidden by the stretch of his turtleneck that shields him from the cold winter air. The sight before him, he thinks, was definitely one to die for, the Danube river stretching from one side to another, the mighty bridge allowing vehicles to pass in and out, the Parliament building sitting tall and proud on the other side of the river, all with a touch of snow from last night’s downpour which makes the scenery all the more breathtaking. Though the tips of his fingers are freezing, the negative temperatures making them stiff and red, Jaehyun feels warm on the inside, a familiar feeling that courses through his body whenever he got to see places like this.
Jaehyun tightens his grip around the camera he’s holding, with the straps hung loosely around his neck and raises it to capture the view. He trains his eyes on the LED screen, half clicking the button until the viewer appears, automatically adjusting the lens so that it focuses on the right places and presses down on the button completely, the screen turning pitch black momentarily until his photo reappears on the screen. When he’s satisfied after studying it for a few seconds, he repeats the process, changing angles every single time to make sure he remembers all he’s seen, forever.
He turns slightly to his right, curious to see how far the river stretches and how much his camera could capture when he spots a person who appears to be struggling to take a photo of herself from the way she’s awkwardly holding her camera up in the air, lowering it one second and then raising it again, obviously unsure if she’s captured in the frame or not. Jaehyun unknowingly smiles behind his camera, silently watching the girl continue her attempts, feeling apologetic for finding amusement in her struggles. He snaps a quick photo of her before finally letting go of his camera and letting it rest above his abdomen.
“Would you like me to take a picture of you?” He asks as he walks closer to the stranger.
You snap your head to your right and you see a guy, a fellow tourist you assume, approaching you with a smile grazing his lips, gesturing to your camera that’s been making your arm ache for the past few minutes. You mentally deadpan at yourself because this person has definitely seen you sturggle for who knows how long and maybe even seen you smile uncomfortably at the camera. And though he’s smiling at you, the upward twitch of his lips never dissipating even when he’s right in front of you, you subtly narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. Traveling alone meant that you had to look out for yourself and though this guy might not look like a snatcher that’s out for your camera, you just couldn’t be too sure, after all, this was usually how people get robbed right before their own eyes from being too careless and trusting.
He breaks the train of your inner debate when he chuckles, retracting his outstretched hand to his side when he sees you eye him from head to toe. “I promise I'm not going to steal your camera.” He lifts his own camera, strapped around his neck, “I’ve got my own.”
You tear your eyes off of him immediately and slap yourself mentally. How many times could you possibly embarrass yourself in front of this stranger in a span of three minutes? Your mind goes into haywire then, feeling the need to explain yourself, “No– that’s not what I meant,” you blubber, the desire to change his first impression of you burning within you, not really knowing why considering you might never even see him again. “I was just, actually–”
“My offer still stands,” he interrupts, smile returning, eyes doing the same and dimples you hadn’t noticed from earlier, appearing.
You hang your head low, hoping the cold weather is enough to mask the tint of red that’s spreading across your cheeks as you take a step forward to finally hand him your camera. “Sorry,” you mumble more to yourself.
He’s studying the features of your camera as soon as he receives it, “Don’t mention it,” he reassures. It takes him no less than ten seconds to finally get grips with your camera settings and as he does so, you’re shifting in your spot, trying to think of poses for the picture. You start to feel conscious about yourself then, the stranger’s eyes fixated on the screen and inevitably on you. The thought makes you move too much in one place in futile attempts of giving him a good photo to take.
He cocks his head to the side, looking directly at you now, “Comfortably. Pose comfortably, whatever you want. It’s your photo.”
His velvety voice takes you off edge and sure enough, you relax after his instructions. You don’t do anything extraordinary as you manage to stay still in one spot lifting your lips upwards into a small smile, your eyes directing themselves to the lens. You hear the click of the shutter then and just when you think it’s finally over, it’s the stranger’s turn to shift in his spot slightly, the camera still lined within his vision.
“Another one,” he insists, adjusting the camera so that you’re in the centre of the viewer. “The view is really nice. Might as well take a few more.”
You don’t protest because it seems like this man knows what he’s doing and he’s already snapping away even when you’re not ready and you try not to get flustered in the process of finding the right poses. But it didn’t even matter anymore because he’s clicking away photo after photo without even so much of an instruction from him nor waiting for you to move in your spot. You watch him blankly as he continues to shuffle in his place, changing all the angles in all ways he feels needs be. When he’s done, you’re still dazed and it’s only when he hands your camera back to you that you finally blink.
“The photos came out great,” he smiles warmly.
They did? You’re not too convinced seeing you didn’t even move a muscle.
“Thanks.” You glance to your left and your right and just as suspected, he was by himself too. “Do you want a picture here too?”
He contemplates for a second, already knowing he doesn’t need anymore pictures here, convinced he has enough saved from earlier. But you’re smiling at him gently and a couple pictures more won’t hurt. “Sure.”
So you switch places, the stranger now standing by the ledge, you taking his previous spot a mere metre away from him. You don’t need to give him any cues because looking at him through the screen of his camera, he didn’t need to pose, him just standing there was already a photo worthy moment. You snap multiple pictures of him, each one seeming to come out better than the last and you wonder how that was even possible because this man really wasn’t doing much. You reason maybe he just really knows his angles well. Nonetheless, this man was for sure captivating, with his tall stature clad in a light brown trench coat with a fluffy turtleneck in darker shade of brown laid underneath, black slacks and a pair of impossibly white converse. Maybe he’s a model? Well, he could definitely pass as one, his big eyes that radiate warmth, smooth features in every aspect of his face topped with his dimples.
He looked breathtaking.
And you have to force yourself to take your eyes off of him when you return his camera, forgetting completely about the fact that you hadn’t just snapped what seemed like a million photos of him.
“Thanks,” he breathes, turning the camera off without inspecting your photos.
You nod, “you’re not gonna check them? I’m not sure I did a good job– I can take more if you want.”
He smiles with a shake of his head, “No, that’s okay. You didn’t check yours either. I’m sure the photos came out great.”
You chuckle, “You shouldn’t be, not with my photography skills anyway.”
He chuckles this time and your eyes land back on his dimples, “All that matters is that I have a souvenir of this place.”
“Me too.”
“You’re here by yourself?”
“Mhm. You?”
“Yeah,” he exhales a breath, the winter temperatures making it possible for his breath to become visible, the smoke-like condensation seeping through his lips. He lets his eyes wander to the view before him once again, “It’s the exact same as I last saw it. Nothing’s changed.”
Intrigued, you carry on with the conversation, “You’ve been here before?”
You see him nod from the corner of your eyes, following where his eyes are focused. “Yeah, I was here last year. And the year before that. And the year before.”
You nod slowly, unknowingly becoming more and more invested in the subject with the stranger. “Are your family here?”
He shakes his head, “No,” he then turns to you with a small, but breathtaking smile. “Just, I just really like it here. I find myself coming back every time.”
You blink just as you clear your throat, your pulse unconsciously speeding up with the eye contact that had just occurred. Silence fills the air and you’re almost sure the mood had just transcended into an awkward one after being flustered, so, in attempts of lifting the mood, you suggest something you don’t give much thought to.
“Well then maybe you could tour me around.”
And you deadpan at yourself as soon as the last word is uttered, your eyes widening at how bold you’ve gotten, not to mention, in front of someone you had just met for the first time out of nowhere.
You hear him chuckle beside you and that’s when you feel his whole body turn towards you. You wearily follow suit, greeted by one of his hand extended to you, “Gladly.” His smile broadens, something to let you know he isn’t kidding.
“I’m Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun. A nice name for a man with impeccable visuals.
His hand is warm in contrast to your cold one when you accept his handshake.
“Y/n. I’m y/n.”
Winter two.
When you look over the same view you saw for the first time the past year, you realise that nothing much has changed. The river still stretches on, the bridge still standing tall and buildings on the other end of the river rising upwards in same way you remember them to. It was still as beautiful as ever despite the winter weather nipping at your skin. Jaehyun’s words ring in your head then, that not matter how many times he’s visited this exact same place, everything is still as he recalls. You smile to yourself at the memory of him, recalling the wasted opportunity of him touring you around (despite it being a casual joke on your end but one he’d taken seriously) due to conflicting schedules and flights. It’s a pity you think, because he looked genuinely keen on showing you to some of his favourite places. Though he did leave you a list of places to see, you never got to see any of them with him, the terrible reminder of your impending flight the next day disrupting the chances of what could have been.
You inhale the winter air, the coolness transcending through your insides, closing your eyes in the process to relish in the beauty and tranquility of it all despite the many other tourists roaming the area, mentally thanking yourself for having come here again. Budapest was and is still beautiful, a certain beauty to it you were quite unable to pinpoint as of now.
“Beautiful, huh?”
You swear you remember that voice anywhere, even when you’ve only heard it once. Your eyes snap open and true enough, you find the same companion you shared this view with a year ago, smiling at the view before him, his dimple peeking through his cheek. Your head almost spins from having craned it too fast to see who the owner of the voice was and you notice the subtle drop of your heart when your assumptions prove to be right. He finally turns to you, that same blinding smile you remember adorning his gentle features, his brown soft locks falling just above his eyes.
“Y/n,” he breathes, the name rolling off his tongue in a pleasant way, as if he’d been dying to say it for far too long.
Your throat runs dry and you’re trying to convince it’s because of how taken aback you are. “J-Jaehyun.”
You see his shoulders slump, the smile briefly leaving his lips before emerging again, this time a tad bigger, exhaling a rather big breath. “You remember.”
You nod, trying to stop the rapid blinking of your eyes, “And, so, so do you.”
He nods too, tugging his winter coat closer to his body. “What a coincidence,” he says, tearing his eyes off you to marvel at the river again. “A very pleasant coincidence.”
You fall silent, not really knowing what to say, your mind struggling to come up with a decent response to hopefully mask your flustered nature. But when nothing comes to mind, you follow his gaze forward, thinking that maybe if you looked somewhere else other than his face, your sanity will come back.
“I still haven’t forgotten about that tour,” Jaehyun pipes up, voice clear yet soft. “The offer still stands,” he adds and then turns to you again, making you look at him. “That’s if, you’re not going to bail on me tomorrow.”
His words make you chuckle, his down to earth nature naturally easing you. “For the record, I wasn’t purposely bailing on you.”
“Oh yeah?” He challenges. You nod. “Coincidentally then?”
You smile a teasing one with a shrug of your shoulders. “Maybe.”
Your answer makes Jaehyun laugh and it gets caught in the wind that blows past, but not before it reaches your ears, pride settling in your chest for having made him do so. “Well then can I try again tomorrow? The pictures you took the last time came out really great, I want to make it up to you.”
“Jaehyun there were mere pictures. It’s okay, you don’t have to,” you defend, even though your mind says the exact opposite, because in fact, you did want to see those places he had mentioned, and you most definitely wanted to visit them with him.
It’s Jaehyun’s turn to shrug his shoulders, a small smile grazing his lips as his eyes grow a little smaller with the gesture. “I want to. And besides, most people would just accept an offer for a free tour, you know?”
You narrow your eyes playfully at him, “Not from a stranger, no.”
You catch him bite his lower lip when you don’t make things easier for him, finding too much fun in your little exchange even though you’re unsure where this side of you is coming from.
“But I’m not a stranger though,” Jaehyun points out. “You know me.”
You wag your index finger at him, “Correction. I know your name.”
“And that’s not enough?”
“You could be a a dodgy guy for all I know.”
“You think I’m out to harm you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
You fall dead silent because Jaehyun’s unknowingly become too close to you, your ability to pick up on his advances clouded by the determination of brewing a witty comeback just to win a game you weren’t aware you were playing. And it doesn’t help that Jaehyun is suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his grip firm and strong, pulling you away from where you're standing and landing so close to his chest. From his shoulder, you see a big crowd of people walk past, all too focused and lost in the earpieces stuck in their ears and wandering eyes, making it almost impossible for them to spot you in their tracks, too engrossed in the building that stood before them.
“Still think I’m dodgy?” Jaehyun asks amusingly, a crooked smile hanging on the corner of his lips, looking down at you but never letting go of you.
You blink, avoiding his eyes, training them to the lints that had formed on his coat.
“S-so about that tour? Is it still up for grabs?”
------
“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a latte. Hope that’s okay?” is the first thing Jaehyun says to you when you meet him at exactly ten in the morning at your agreed meeting place. He sounds unsure and he’s watching you with expectant eyes.
You nod, smiling. “This is perfect, thank you.” After taking a careful first sip, so as to not burn your tongue so early in the day, you look around you, the high end shops surrounding the street on either side. “So Mr tour guide, what do you have planned for today?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked,” he plays along with a goofy smile, pretending to scroll through his phone as if the agenda had been written on it. “And to answer your question, you’re going to have to wait and see, it’s a surprise.”
Your mouth forms an “o”, your expectations rising. “Exciting!” And you really mean it. Because feeling nervous earlier was one thing, looking forward to the day ahead was another thing, and if you were being honest, you don’t remember how you felt earlier in the morning at all, now that you were casually strolling the streets of Budapest with Jaehyun.
As you manoeuvre through the Parliament Building and as you climb the dome of St. Stephen’s Basilica, you learn a few things about Jaehyun that rise during your conversations on the trek to your destinations. You learn that Jaehyun is the head of the marketing team in a company he refuses to name (which you presume must be a renowned one and that he was just being humble), that he lives alone in an apartment in the suburbs to escape the busy city life that he has to see every single morning for work, that he’s an only child hence, has a very close relationship with his parents who still worry about him venturing onto these solo trips every year despite being a working adult.
You huff, placing both your hands on your hips when you arrive at a landing after climbing so many steps you had lost count of. “Oh, I had completely different assumptions about you,” you say in between trying to catch your breath, allowing people to walk past you as they continue their climb.
Jaehyun turns to you, a brow slightly raised, the teasing smile threatening to form on his lips poking on something you had just said. Your eyes widen, mortified at the fact that you had just exposed yourself thinking about him in your spare time. “Wait, that’s not what I meant– wait.”
Jaehyun dismisses it, shaking his head lightly. “Well what did you assume in the first place?”
That was one more thing you had learned about Jaehyun in the midst of talking to him passively, was that he had a tremendous talent for making you eat your own words. Either that or you just really didn’t think your words through before speaking them out loud. At this point, you really didn’t care anymore, besides after today, Jaehyun would just be another memory, another stranger you’ve met in the passing.
“Definitely not the head of the marketing department.”
“Oh?”
“Mhm.”
“Then what?”
“A model, maybe.”
Jaehyun chuckles as you both halt at the bottom of another set of winding stairs above. You nod truthfully, remembering your first impression of him all too well from last year; tall and undeniably blessed with outstanding features. “Yeah. A model for a clothing brand, maybe.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jaehyun says lowly, turning away from you to hide the growing smile on his face and the reddening of the tip of his ears (which by the way was definitely not caused by the cold).
Jaehyun was good looking and he deserved to know that even if it was through an indirect statement. “It is,” you nod as you continue your ascent after sucking in a huge breath. Jaehyun follows closely behind, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “So, only child, huh?” you call out behind you, raising your voice slightly to ensure he hears you. You hear him hum, “Does it not get lonely sometimes, no?”
Jaehyun ponders for a second, his childhood flashing before his eyes. “Sometimes, yeah. But not too much, I have a bunch of crazy friends. They’re almost like brothers to me.”
You nod absentmindedly, an imaginary picture of what Jaehyun’s friends could possibly be like popping up in your head. You think they must be a nice bunch too, considering how pleasant your company has been. You draw yet another huge breath in, your hand gripping onto the cold metal handrail, the many stairs leading up to your destination that wasn’t even in sight yet, making your lungs yell for air. “The view better be worth it,” you grumble to yourself but Jaehyun hears.
“Trust me, it is,” Jaehyun pipes up from behind you, surprising you a little but you take his word for it anyway.
And sure enough, Jaehyun was right. The view from the top of the dome sure was breathtaking, the roofs of the buildings below coated with snow that had fallen earlier in the morning and the vague outline of the mountain in the distance, and although it was all you could see, besides the minuscule people and the various roads and alleys, somehow, it felt so ataractic to be here with the sun peeking through the clouds, even when the cold wind makes you shiver under the many layers of clothing you had. The view was surreal in your eyes, but how it made you feel was definitely something else indescribable.
“Well?” Jaehyun asks, stepping beside you by the ledge.
“You were right,” you admit. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
Jaehyun has been here before, but right now, sharing the exact same view he’s seen countless of times, he thinks the view had just become even more magnificent than all the times he’s stood here the previous years.
------
When the sun sets, you learn that the capital city of Hungary, is divided into two, that the Chain Bridge connects the hilly areas of Buda to the flatter areas of Pest. You learn this as Jaehyun navigates you through Christmas markets where you find hand-made products that range from ornaments to clothes, to warm and fresh local food that you indulge in with Jaehyun. Other people weave in and out these booths just like you and the fairy lights tangled amongst the bare branches of a huge tree that’s firmly rooted in the middle of the square, gives the place a homey and cozy feeling. When the evening snow begins to fall, the two of you are taking a sip of your hot mulled wine in a cup.
“Are you tired or do you still have some energy left?” Jaehyun asks lowly.
“Both?” You reply honestly.
Jaehyun chuckles and discards his cup in a nearby bin when he finishes his wine. “We have one last place to see,” he announces. “But don’t worry, it’s a pretty cool and chill place.”
You nod, liking the idea of ending the day somewhere you could relax. “I’m down.”
You find yourselves in front of a place called “Szimpla Kert” and when you take a peek inside, it’s dark, neon and fairy lights scattered everywhere. When Jaehyun leads you inside, you realise it’s almost like a bunch of outdoor bars grouped together in one place, with random tables and seats decorating the place, along with music playing throughout the entire place. Jaehyun finds a seat for you both, right beside a heater to keep yourselves warm, the place still cold despite the roof that covers it.
“First round is on me,” Jaehyun winks before he’s dashing off to the nearest bar he comes across.
You look around the place, taking in its smallest details; broken and abandoned TV’s adding touch to the unconventionality of the interior, with random pictures and paint splayed on the walls. You spot an old (and possibly broken) arcade machine on the other corner and when your eyes fall onto your own table, you realise it’s not the same as the others either. You think it’s unique; how nothing in this place doesn’t make any sense, but you like it anyway, almost seeming like a breath of fresh air in the middle of all the chaos that is your life, despite it not being the image of tranquility in your head.
You watch as Jaehyun re-emerges from somewhere, with what looks like two cocktails in his hands. He sets them down on the wooden table before taking a seat next to you on the wooden log. “I honestly can’t remember the names of these two but I asked the bartender to give me their best ones.”
You reach for the yellow one, leaving Jaehyun with a clear looking one and take a sip. The bartender wasn't wrong, the cocktail tasted divine, picking up on the fruity taste of the mango added with alcohol to which you assume is vodka and a bunch of other ingredients you couldn’t quite make out. Nonetheless, it was good and so you take another sip from the straw. When Jaehyun sees you satisfied, he begins to drink his own, the cool of the cocktail sending shivers down his spine.
“So what made you come back here?” Jaehyun asks, starting the conversation in hopes of getting to know you a little better.
You shrug your shoulders, recalling the time the opportunity of being able to travel presenting itself amidst your busy schedule back home. “Not sure,” you confess, glancing at him. “It just felt like the right place to be.”
Content with your answer, with it having spoken so much more than the actual length of the words themselves, Jaehyun smiles, somehow knowing how it feels to be in the same position, though never really knowing your whole story. “I get that.”
“Yeah?” you re-confirm, leaning over the table to look at him a little longer, resting the side of your head against the palm of your hand, your cocktail now half empty, the alcohol beginning to sink in your system. “Is that why you come back every year?”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, staring straight ahead before directing his gaze at you. “Up until this year.”
You almost miss the last part but you don’t and even when you do hear it, it doesn't make sense to you. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he’s sipping away at his cocktail, prompting you to do the same and no one speaks after that. When your glasses are completely empty, you rise from your seat and Jaehyun follows your every move.
“Second round is on me,” you wink at your company, in the same manner he did earlier. Unknown to you, the playful gesture bothers him way more than it had its effects on you from when he did it.
It isn't long before you return, with four shot glasses gathered up in your palms, careful enough not to trip on anything to save the drinks. Jaehyun raises a brow when you set them down in front of him, silently examining what appears to be clear fluid in the glasses; Palinka shots.
“Are we drinking to die tonight?” Jaehyun asks unsurely, eyeing the drinks.
You roll your eyes as you reclaim your seat beside him, “I’m pretty sure you know what these are given you’re like an unofficial local here.”
Jaehyun’s laugh resonates from his chest and vibrates through his whole body. “Of course I know what they are. I had too much of those one time and I almost passed out in public.”
You grin, picking up a glass and handing it to him before taking one for yourself. “Well then, cheers?” you raise yours to his which he meets with his own, eliciting a small “clink” in the process. You down the drink it one go, taking a big gulp. You blink hard for three seconds, the strength of the alcohol coming at you full force, making your throat burn and your face grimace.
“Wow,” you manage to croak when you recover shortly. “That’s something else.”
“Right?”
“I love it.”
You ignore the feeling of your head beginning to spin when you down your second shot with Jaehyun, your cheeks now rosy while the tips of Jaehyun’s ears now coloured a shade of pink. He’s grinning incredulously at you, “I’ve never drank this with anyone before.”
You turn to him, lazily blinking in the process. “Really?”
Jaehyun nods, “Yeah. I always came here alone.”
You raise a brow playfully, bringing your face closer to his. “What an insult to all the girls you’ve brought here before.”
Jaehyun laughs lowly, eyes trained on you (your lips). “What makes you think I’m lying?”
You bring your elbow to rest on the wooden table, resting your jaw against your hand which you have balled into a fist. “With that face of yours, it’s impossible you haven’t brought anyone here.”
Jaehyun feels the need to get closer to you, so he does, scooting in his seat until his shoulder almost touches yours. “And what’s with this face of mine?”
You blink long and hard, your face feeling all too warm, but your eyes don’t miss the way Jaehyun’s brows knot together. The sound you emit next comes out more like a giggle and you reckon it’s the alcohol working in you but the answer you say next isn’t exactly induced by the intoxication either.
“Handsome.”
Jaehyun gapes at you for a moment, blinking, dumbfounded. He’s been complimented many times before, but they all didn’t matter to him.
Until tonight.
Winter three.
The Danube river is the second largest river in Europe, after the river Volga. It flows through ten countries, Hungary, being one of them and has a whopping length of nearly three thousand kilometres. This fact amazes you as you lean back and sit on a bench situated not too far from the glorious Parliament Building, a warm cup of coffee in your hand that heats the tips of your fingers. You wonder what it might look like in other cities it flows through, what the views might be like over there, and if there are people who ponder on the same questions as you.
As you exhale another breath of cold, crushing December evening air, your mind drifts to Jaehyun, tilting your head to let your eyes fall on the other side of the river, vaguely making out the outline of the Fisherman’s Bastion through the light fog, where Jaehyun had magically appeared out of nowhere the previous year and where he kindly took photos of you the year before that. Maybe that’s why the Danube river reminds you so much of Jaehyun, because on two occasions, it had been the same view you both shared, a little something you like to consider a common thing between you both. The river looks incredible and the mere thought of its properties is enough to fascinate you in more ways than one, much like Jaehyun. His appearance has always been so.. alluring. But underneath all that, he was just as captivating, the many layers to his personality in the brief moments you get to witness them, a testament to that.
“I’m beginning to think you're following me.”
All the hairs on your skin stand, fate seeming to work for the third time in three consecutive years because when you look to your left, there stands Jaehyun with that same smile he always greets you with, the very man on your thoughts just half second ago.
“Excuse me? I was here first.”
You’re grinning when he takes a seat beside you, happy to see him. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he jokes, his smile getting wider, his dimples catching your attention.
You roll your eyes playfully, “I know. I’m kind of tired seeing you here.”
Jaehyun shrugs with a chuckle escaping his lips, “I feel the same way. So who is it gonna be? Do you leave or do I?” You laugh then, making him laugh with you. When the silence falls, Jaehyun’s gaze on you doesn’t, in awe of how the world works. “How have you been, y/n?”
“Good,” you nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I’ve been good. Still the same. How about you?”
“I’ve been well, thank you.” So you spend the next half an hour filling each other on what’s happened in the past year. Jaehyun talks about his job and how it’s allowed him to meet new people from different places, his friends who are still as loud and as boisterous as ever and his plans of maybe adopting a pet to keep him company at home. You let him ramble on and on, spurring him to talk even more when you ask him questions here and there because if you were being honest, there wasn’t much to fill him in in relation to your life. Now that you think about it, you don’t recall ever talking about yourselves during your encounters with Jaehyun. Maybe a small thing or two, but nothing major, nothing in depth like his stories.
You wonder if he’s noticed.
Jaehyun’s in the middle of a sentence when your eyes become empty, his words drowned out by your thoughts and even though you’re looking at him, you speculate he's noticed because he stops talking abruptly. You see him smile lightly, tracing his eyes at the ground before looking at you, the silence allowing him to gather his words.
He’s definitely noticed.
“I want to know more about you y/n.”
So that’s how you end up leading the way the very next day, Jaehyun letting you tour him this time, as if he hadn’t already been to this place you’re planning on taking him. All he was instructed was to bring something to wear for swimming to which he immediately countered with an “swimming?! In this freezing weather?!” But he does as he’s told anyway, at least with what he’s told you this morning that he might have struggled to find something to wear at such short notice.
When you arrive at the Szechenyi Thermal baths, Jaehyun’s mouth forms an “o” and you unknowingly grab him by the wrist to pull him inside with you. It takes about five minutes to validate the tickets you’ve bought online the night prior and ten minutes for the two of you to get changed and lock your belongings away safely. Jaehyun appears by the corridor in shorts that fall below his knees while you come out in a bikini bra with shorts to pair it. When you see each other, you both burst out laughing, the exact same thought crossing in your minds: who’s crazy enough to be swimming outdoors during such a harsh Winter? But the steam outside, floating from the hot surface of the water serves as some sort of reassurance that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you both initially thought it would be.
“This is crazy,” Jaehyun mumbles but he’s grinning anyway, stopping just right by the door that leads to the outdoor baths. “I’ve heard of this place before but I've never actually been here.”
You nudge his arm with your elbow, a teasing smile on your face. “I’m a great tour guide, amen’t I? To have found such a place you actually haven’t been to.” You walk past Jaehyun and reach for the door, an icy gust of wind immediately greeting you making you shiver to the core. “I’m gonna run, I’ll see you there!”
“You are.. great,” Jaehyun finds himself mumbling when you disappear in the mist. He follows suit not too long after, realising just why you sprinted your way to the waters so as to avoid the freezing air. He finds you by the bottom of the pool stairs, soaking yourself in the hot waters that completely cancels out the cold. Jaehyun sighs in relief when he steps in, sinking himself in until he finds himself beside you.
“This is the best thing ever?” Jaehyun comments, feeling all his muscles relax as the currents warm his body.
“Right?” you almost exclaim, feeling all too excited. “I don’t even feel the cold anymore?”
You’re not sure how but Jaehyun gets you talking about yourself as you round the pools together, seeing many other people on the way, basking in the comfort of the hot waters as yourselves. You begin to share about your life, in the same way he did last year, trying to give as much detail as him but careful enough not to overshare. You tell him you work at a pharmacy, owned by your parents that’s most likely going to be passed down to you. You talk about your parents too and what they’re like, how they’ve dedicated their whole lives into ensuring a good future for their business. You mention your older brother whom you haven’t seen in almost two years, having moved four years ago as soon as he’d graduated university to seek a bigger opportunities abroad.
“So is working at the pharmacy what you really want to do?” Jaehyun asks softly after a while when you finish talking, the questioning having remained in his head ever since the mention of your family’s business.
You remember your older brother asking you the exact same question years ago, just before he’d left for good, knowing all too well that he’d have the same fate as you had he not eased your parents into letting him go for years on end up until his graduation. The thing was, your brother saw so much potential in you, so much more than you would ever see in yourself, no matter how hard you looked and maybe that’s why you doubted yourself so much all these years. And every single time, your doubts always overpowered even the smallest possibility or desire of leaving.
Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. It really wasn’t.
And you’ve been scared to admit that to your brother, let alone yourself. But looking at Jaehyun now, peering into your eyes as the subtle rays of the sun peek through the clouds momentarily, falling onto his features, you feel safe, safe enough to admit what you couldn’t before.
Maybe not so forwardly.
“I don’t want to leave my parents,” you answer honestly, forcing a small smile. That was another reason, if not, probably the biggest reason holding you back.
Jaehyun only smiles at you warmly, signalling he understands and doesn’t press onto the matter further, thinking maybe it was a too much of a big question to ask so early in the day. Nonetheless, he appreciates your honesty.
Jaehyun offers you a hand out of the pool after another two hours of conversation and splashing each other with water on the face until either one surrenders. You’re immediately shivering when you step out but Jaehyun is quick to clad your shoulders with a towel before taking his own even when he’s shivering way more than you are.
When Jaehyun decides it’s too early to go back into town, you take a stroll around the vicinity of the baths after getting changed, traipsing along the paths with evidence of snow being scraped off of them to the side where it mounts slightly higher before it levels off again. Jaehyun is a good listener, picking up certain details about your previous mentions to ask you more questions in attempts of getting to know you better. It feels unusual because you feel that you’ve always been one to be on the listening end, definitely not on the talking one. But Jaehyun makes it so easy despite the unfamiliarity of it all. You’re not sure how, but it didn’t matter, it made you stop and think about yourself for a while.
You hear distant echoes of screams and cheers up ahead and it grabs your attention as well as Jaehyun’s. As you walk further, you reach a bridge and right under it reveals an ice rink so vast and and so wide, with a lot of people gliding through the ice, some with ease, some not so. You stand there, watching people below for a while. It looked so much fun.
“Have you much experience with ice skating?”
You laugh unknowingly, “Why do you think I'm up here and not down there?”
Jaehyun laughs shortly but not for long when he’s grabbing you by the hand and tugging you along with him. “No no Jaehyun we are not ice skating!” you plea from behind him but he takes no notice, continuing to pull you with ease, his hand surprisingly warm on your skin. To Jaehyun, it was the perfect time to be ice skating; the sun was about to set, the streetlights about to illuminate everything in the path, and definitely the perfect time to be holding your hand.
Jaehyun leaves you with no choice when he pays for two pairs of skates without your consultation, earning himself a grimace from you when he hands you your own pair. You watch him quietly, puzzled as he skilfully secures his skates on, one foot at a time. He stands then, the blades adding a little more to his already tall stature and when he sees your skates still in your hands, unmoved since he’d given them to you, he takes you by the shoulders with his palms, gently guiding you to sit on the bench he had just been on. He bends to the ground then and wordlessly unzips each one of your boots so that he can take them off and replace them with skates. You keep your eyes on him, his brows furrowed and lips pressed together as he focuses on his task.
For the first time, you didn’t feel as cold.
“Well?” He says when he stands again after making sure your skates were tight enough, outstretching his hand for you to take.
Turns out Jaehyun doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time you skate around the rink, not after you almost flat on your face the moment you step onto the ice, his fast reflexes preventing a potential injury just in time. And it feels nice, so nice to be laughing and giggling with him as you glide along the ice while dodging other people, his hand holding yours so firmly it makes skating less daunting. Jaehyun uses his other hand to fish his phone out of his pocket and take pictures of you, though you’re unsure they come out nice because you can’t stop laughing for some reason, especially not after you almost lose balance and almost fall on your back. When you reach the edge, mutually deciding to slow down to catch your breaths, Jaehyun pulls you close to him until your body’s pressed up against his, his arm naturally landing itself around your shoulder, his phone up in the air so that he can take a picture of you both. You’re too astonished to even realise his intentions that the camera captures you staring up at Jaehyun, stunned, while he, on the other hand, smiles widely at the device.
“So will I see you here next year again?” Jaehyun asks after he swallows a bite of his burger at the best burger place he claims he has ever been to, to which you agree on when you take the first bite of yours, your stomach growling from not having eaten anything all day since breakfast in addition to all the swimming and ice skating.
You grin teasingly, leaning closer to him, narrowing your eyes, “Why? You want to see me again?”
“Yes.”
You were joking just half a second ago but Jaehyun was most certainly not. Not in the way his eyes remain on you and definitely not in the way he answers without hesitation. He’s caught you off guard yet again and you’re blinking up at him, at a loss for what to say.
“So will I be seeing you next year?” he repeats, this time more adamant. “Will I?”
You lean away from him and laugh it off casually. “Have you always been this persistent?”
“When I want something, yeah.”
Jaehyun insists on taking you back to your accommodation and you didn’t have the heart to refuse. The journey back feels long and it’s mostly because it’s eerily quiet between the two of you, neither of you having enough courage to start a conversation. Jaehyun’s playing with the tips of his fingers on the subway, his lower lip caught between his teeth, too lost in his own thoughts. He had always been one to be honest and definitely forward, but he wished he wasn’t any of those tonight because he’s convinced it’s exactly what had probably scared you away. You’re eyes shift on anything on the moving train but Jaehyun, feigning interest on the ads plastered on the ceiling above, as if you could even understand the language, but at this point, you were desperate to get your mind off Jaehyun, his presence right beside you, let alone the mere thought of him, creating a haze in your mind.
Attachment was never part of the plan.
Yet here you were, wondering what the next year might be like if it didn't consist of meeting Jaehyun and going off to places that definitely was not on your agenda.
Jaehyun stands awkwardly in front of you as you come to a halt just outside the front entrance of your hotel. You take one good look at him as he keeps his eyes to the ground because Jaehyun had found you on your last day of your stay this year which meant that this wa the last time you’d get to see him for maybe another year, if you decided to be honest with yourself tonight.
“Jaehyun?” you call out, grabbing his attention immediately when he stops kicking the ground.
He looks up at you, an apologetic smile on his face. “Thanks for today, I had so much fun. And for bringing me back too.”
“It’s no problem.”
His words from earlier echo in your head, making you wish you were as sure as he was when it came to wanting something in life because you knew, it was something you had been running away from all your life. And you were sure he knew that too and in a sense, it felt like he was testing you; trying to see if you had enough courage to make decisions in relation to what you wanted. Maybe Jaehyun knew what you wanted even before you even had the chance to figure it out. Either that, or he was just really good at making guesses.
It was time to be honest.
So you step forward until you’re close enough to him and he watches you without blinking, his whole attention on you. And when you reach up to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, you could almost swear you felt the heating up of his cheeks during the short contact.
“I’ll see you next year, Jaehyun.”
Winter four.
You’re not sure how you’ve been surviving for the past four years without keeping in contact with Jaehyun because you feel it the most today; you miss him. It doesn’t make sense at all. How could you miss someone you’ve spent just a day with, maybe at most, two days, for the past few years? Was that enough to miss someone this bad? According to your experience, yes. Because standing right here, right in front of the Shoes by the Danube Bank, a memorial created to honour the Jews who lost their lives during the second World War, overlooking the calm stream of the river, you wished nothing more than to see him. Unknowingly, seeing Jaehyun had become the highlight of your trip, if not, your year and what made this year scarier was that you were expecting to see him, especially after what you had said to him last year. And expectations always meant there were greater chances of disappointments. This year wasn’t like the previous ones because this time, it would no longer be all about coincidences and luck, it was all about the desire to see each other. And on your end, the feeling of missing him too.
It didn’t make sense, none of it did.
But then again, when did anything ever make sense?
Jaehyun had always found you in places that overlooked the river and in the next few days that come during your stay, you come back to all the spots by the Danube in hopes of seeing him there. But you don’t. He doesn’t show. And you’re beginning to lose hope, your insides crushing at the thought of what you’re feeling being a one-sided thing. Had Jaehyun given you mixed signals last year? Was he even giving signs? Did you misinterpret everything? It was certainly feeling like you were wrong about your whole situation the whole time when the sun rises on the second last day of your stay, your time running out and your week coming to an end. The days seem to fly even when you’re doing nothing but roam the city aimlessly and even when you try to make the most of the time you have left without Jaehyun, none of it feels the same. Budapest reminds you too much of him and seeing pieces of him in everything you looked and visited, only added to the emptiness you tried so hard to suppress.
This will definitely be your last time here.
“Stop worrying,” you speak into the phone, picking up a Christmas tree ornament from the table of one of the booths in the Christmas market. “Mom, I’m fine here, I promise.”
“You say that all the time,” she replies, her tone not one tad bit satisfied with your answer. “I wish I went with you.”
You roll your eyes playfully, handing the small star shaped ornament to the vendor so that you could pay for it. “And you do this every year too. I’ve been traveling for four years straight and I come back in one piece all the time, don’t I? I’ll be fine this time around too.”
“Don’t mind your mother! She’s just being a worry wart!” your hear your dad distantly on the line, making you smile. Your mom hisses at him just as you hand money to the woman behind the table. “Is there a reason why you always leave at this time of the year? And to the same place too?” your mom asks, concern in her voice.
There hadn’t been a particular reason at first, remembering how your finger had landed randomly on Hungary on the map when deciding where to fly to spontaneously, feeling the need to just get away for a while back then. And it had been your plan to do the exact same thing when it came to deciding where to go next after the first. But you found yourself coming back to the same place every single time and surely there was obviously a reason why.
But your mom didn’t have to know that.
“No particular reason mom,” you reply after seconds of silence, retrieving the ornament from the woman, now safe in a small turquoise paper bag. “I just really like it here in Budapest. It’s beautiful.” You thank the vendor before walking away and it takes another five minutes of convincing your mom you’re okay on your own before you’re putting your phone away in your pocket.
It’s early in the day, yet the markets are already being swarmed by people. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice a crowd rush past you, making you stumble forward when someone bumps against you, continuing on in their path after sparing you a mere glance and an inaudible apology. You’re lucky enough the paper bag in your hand doesn’t fall, for sure the ornament shattering into pieces if it did.
At such an unconventional time, your thoughts come back to Jaehyun, the memory of him shielding you away from a bustling crowd at the bastion flashing before your eyes. Everywhere really did remind you of him and it was starting to get on your nerves because with every little reminder came with a little spark of hope that you would be seeing him this year too, setting you up for even greater heights of disappointment.
Exhaling a sigh, you carry onwards, not really knowing where you’re headed. You keep your eyes plastered to the ground, thinking that maybe it could temporarily solve your inner dilemmas. If you didn’t see your surroundings, then there’d be no reminder of Jaehyun’s absence. Focus on your shoes, focus on the grey linings of the pavement, focus on anything but the fact that the reason for your visit might have bailed on you. Jaehyun wasn’t obliged to meet you, you knew that, but still, the thought left a sour taste in your mouth–
You get the fright of your life when you’re hauled off the street by the arm and into an alley that appears to be deserted by the public. But what surprises you even more is how close you are to the culprit of your heart dropping to the ground from shock. Both of your arms have landed on the stranger’s chest, most likely as a defence mechanism, a barrier between the both of you. And you’re preparing for the worst, to be taken away or to be harmed because this was exactly how people go missing. Now you understood why your mom had been so worried and you silently wish she tagged along with you.
But nothing happens.
“You’re gonna get run over by those crowds if you continue to not pay attention.”
You look up.
“Hi.”
You’re glad to see him but your first instinct is to hit him.
“How are– hey! Ow!”
“I thought you weren’t coming you idiot!”
“I’m sorry!”
“You should be!”
You push yourself away from him, straightening yourself and tugging at your clothes. You find him grinning at you and it pisses you off even more. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans on the wall behind him.
“So you were waiting for me, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, finding no humour in the situation. His face reminds you of the stress from the past few days induced by wondering if he'd even show up. “I don’t find how this is funny.”
“Were you?”
“Where the hell have you been anyway?”
He grins even more.
“Don’t answer my question with another question, y/n.”
“I thought we agreed on this last year?” You counter again.
“Were you or were you not waiting for me?”
Jaehyun was still as persistent as you remember him last.
“Fine. Yes.”
You shut your eyes at your confession, already planning in your head for possible escapes to run away from the situation. But he doesn’t let you because he’s tugging at your arm again, hard enough that you land on his chest again. The only difference this time is that he has his arms around you, squeezing your body into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I'm late. Something came up at home.”
Unknowingly, you relax in his embrace, the exhaustion of wondering and waiting catching up to you. “I fly back tomorrow,” you mumble.
Jaehyun stills for a bit before he tightens his hug around you. “Are you free today?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s enough time.”
None of you budge from your position, letting Jaehyun hug you for as long as he wanted, for as long as you became sure he was really here. Besides, he served as a nice human heater from the cold for the meantime.
“Missed you,” he murmurs.
Glad to know you weren’t the only one.
------
Spending the whole day with Jaehyun had never been this good and you think it’s because he hasn’t let go of your hand all day. You didn’t have any particular destination in mind today, silently agreeing with one another that today didn’t have to be all about lists of places to go to, it would just be about wandering anywhere and everywhere with each other. You didn't mind at all, even when you both loose yourselves in places you have never come across. Maybe getting lost was the only thing on today’s agenda. Every now and then, Jaehyun would steal quick glances at you, a shy smile playing on his lips and you feign ignorance by pretending not to notice because if you looked his way and met his eyes during those occasions, you weren’t sure if it would be healthy for your heart. You were already slowly melting just feeling his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, what more if you actually caught his eyes.
In the middle of the laughs and the mini facts you share about each other in the midst of playing twenty one questions during your trails, Jaehyun is snapping pictures almost every five minutes, of sceneries and buildings around you but mostly, of you doing the most mundane things like staring up at the structures, picking up random things in shops or laughing at something he had said. Jaehyun tried to be discrete about it at first but it was hard to keep that up when he was constantly lifting his camera almost every chance he got.
“I’m pretty sure you have enough pictures of me already, Jae,” you point out, shaking your head when he takes another one of you walking towards him after buying a chimney cake for you both to share. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to end up deleting half of them too.”
Jaehyun finally lets go of his camera and lets it hang around his neck, taking the cake from you so that he can rip off a piece for you. “You’re right.”
“Exactly so–”
“You are pretty.”
You stop chewing on the piece of cake. “What? That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what I meant.”
You don’t argue anymore because Jaehyun resumes on eating the cake and you feel that if you poked on the topic further, it would worsen the already reddening of your cheeks. So you dismiss it, pretend like you’re not a blushing mess by continuing to eat another piece of chimney cake that he's handing over to you. Too bad that the reason Jaehyun is grinning so widely to himself is in fact because of the blushing of your cheeks.
When the sun sets and the moon takes over in the vastness of the night sky, you find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Jaehyun in one of the cars of the Budapest Eye, a Ferris wheel that gives you an aerial view of the city. You’ve seen Budapest from up high before, when Jaehyun had taken you to the St Stephen’s basilica, climbing an awful lot of stairs to reach the dome. But Budapest at night was something else too with the lights making everything glow in its path. The Chain Bridge looks magnificent from up there and you’re silent as you marvel at the view, the car stopping briefly to allow more passengers to jump in at the bottom car.
“It’s so.. beautiful,” you say, eyes sparkling at the view outside the window.
Jaehyun agrees, “Yeah,” though his eyes are not on the bridge. “So beautiful.”
You turn abruptly and catch him already staring at you and it spurs him to look away immediately, clearing his throat in the process. You take your phone out of your pocket and press for the camera icon, scooting away from Jaehyun. “It’s not fair that you have pictures of me and I have none of you.”
Jaehyun chuckles, “You could’ve just asked.”
“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss, not in the mood to have another exchange with him. You take a picture of him right there and then, not even bothering to give him a heads up. It’s a picture of him looking straight ahead, his dimple showing on the side of his face, looking cosy and warm. Even when he isn’t trying, he still looked as good as ever.
“Hey, I wasn't ready,” he complains and tries to have a peek at the photo.
“Now you know how I felt the entire day,” you counter, unamused. “The picture looks good though.”
“Good enough to be your wallpaper?” Jaehyun asks teasingly.
Of course it was. Probably every single photo of Jaehyun is good enough to be anyone's wallpaper. But he didn’t need to know that. “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Jaehyun laughs and scoots over to you, making the car shake slightly, prompting you to hold on to the bar next to you. “Hey be careful,” you warn him, earning yet another chuckle from him.
“Let’s take a picture together, so you have one of us too,” he suggests and takes your phone swiftly off your hands. Jaehyun slings an arm around your shoulders and naturally, you lean towards him, even going as far as resting your head between the space of his neck and shoulder. It seems to satisfy Jaehyun because you can see his smile broaden through the screen of your phone just before he presses the button to take the picture.
It feels nice to be this close to Jaehyun and he gives your shoulder a light squeeze as a silent affirmation that you didn't have to pull away so soon, that you could stay right where you were even as he lowers your phone after the picture’s been taken. Your arms find shelter around Jaehyun’s waist in the seconds that come, as the wheel continues to spin and as the car ascends again. You release a sigh of relief, feeling the calmest you’ve ever been in so long and it makes you close your eyes, to feel Jaehyun’s warmth a little more, to bask in his presence while he’s here. Jaehyun’s rubbing at your shoulder gently with the palm of his hand, leaning closer to you until his temple rests on the top of your head.
Neither of you speak for a while, the silence too delicate and fragile to disturb. It’s refreshing; not having to think or worry about anything for now, Jaehyun’s mere presence enough to cancel out every little insignificant thing. You take it all in because tomorrow would be a whole different story.
When the wheel stops spinning and your car halts at the bottom, you peel yourself away from Jaehyun and prepare to leave when you notice the tips of his ears are a deep shade of red. You can’t stop looking at them even as he helps you off the car. “Jae? Your ears, they’re really red.”
“Oh?” His hands fly to touch either of them. “I feel really warm.”
You frown at him, “It’s minus five degrees.”
“Oh, must be the cold.”
So in order to fight the “cold”, Jaehyun insists on grabbing mulled wine on your trek back to your hotel and as you down the warm beverage, the more honest your conversations get. Maybe it’s the certain percentage of alcohol in the drink or the fact that time was ticking against the both of you, but it seemed very fitting to be honest around each other now. You also get to understand Jaehyun a little better.
“Remember when I thought you were a model at first?” you recall your earliest memories of Jaehyun, his hand clasped in yours. “And how shocked I was when you said you were head of a marketing team because I really did think you were a model.”
Jaehyun smiles at you fondly. “You’re not wrong. I was a model once.”
“No way? Really?”
“Mhm.”
“What happened?”
Jaehyun stops in his steps, a sad smile adorning his lips, eyes kept to the ground. You look back at him, his hand pulling on yours as he stops walking. He looks up at you then, eyes a little sorrowful, “I got tired of it. Tired of having to look perfect all the time.”
When your paper cups are empty and discarded, both of you find yourselves seated on a bench that gives you a great view of the Chain Bridge up close. You sit as close to each other as possible to preserve warmth, the cold not enough to bother you both, especially you, not when Jaehyun had so much more to say.
“That’s when I knew modelling wasn’t for me,” he starts, gazing at your intertwined hands. “Getting praises left and right for how I looked was great for a while, it boosted my confidence a lot. But at some point, it got too much,” he looks at you, “It felt like my appearance was the only thing that mattered. No one knew me and no one took the time to get to know me. One look at my face and they thought that that was all they needed from me. I got validation for my looks rather than for who I was as a person.”
Jaehyun draws in a breath, “It just wasn't fulfilling. And I felt pressured to look good all the time. I just knew it wasn’t for me then.”
You stare at him, studying his features. Who would’ve known that his appearance gave him such huge burden at some point. Yet you understand where he's coming from, relating all too well what it feels like to have to put up a front all the time.
Jaehyun is about to say something next and you’re sure it’s something that will change the topic altogether, but you don’t let him just yet because you had to let him know.
“You’re way more than your appearance, Jae.” He trails his eyes on you then, lifting his head up for the first time. “Way way more than your looks. You’re kind, you’re intelligent, you’re hardworking and you’re good at taking care of people around you. Not to mention, your touring skills too.” Jaehyun’s eyes on you don’t falter for even a second and you avoid his gaze by resting your head on his shoulder. “I wish people could see that, how great of a person you really are.”
“You mean that?”
“Mhm. I really do.”
Jaehyun stares out into the river feeling his chest a lot lighter, never really knowing it had been that heavy in the first place. Everyone had insecurities and what Jaehyun had just spoken of, was definitely his. For so long, he'd been carrying it with him, everywhere he went, everything he did, feeling like nobody really saw him from the inside out.
Until now. Until you.
And that was definitely the tipping point for him.
The final push that made him so sure he was definitely falling for you.
“What do you think will happen to us next year?” Jaehyun asks softly, playing with your fingers. “You know this unspoken no-contact-with-each-other rule is getting really hard.”
Jaehyun sounds like he’s joking but you know he’s serious. If you were being honest, it was taking its toll on you too. The past year had consisted of mornings with thoughts of Jaehyun and wondering and asking how he might be doing. You were at home, not even in Budapest yet you still thought of him almost every single day. But the idea of not having contact with Jaehyun seemed more ideal because it meant this whole thing didn’t demand any sort of commitment. It was a one time thing during a specific time of year. It also meant limiting the chances of a potential heartbreak because if you were going to be very very honest with yourself, a whole day with Jaehyun was enough for you to unconsciously become attached.
“I was thinking of maybe going to another country,” you answer finally after so long, weighing all your what ifs and possible outcomes of what you’re about to say. “You know my dad, I think my dad’s been more open-minded to me traveling and seeing the world now.”
“Yeah?”
You nod against his shoulder, “Mhm. Remember how I told you it took my brother years and years to finally convince my parents to let him live abroad? Well, my dad sat down with over coffee a few months back and said he really likes seeing me talk about my travels. He said it’s probably the happiest he’s ever seen me.”
Jaehyun is smiling at you when you lift your head off his shoulder, “And I was thinking I could go somewhere else so that I'd have a different country to talk to him about.” It was a shallow reason but not exactly a lie. Your dad had been hesitant of letting you go, much like Jaehyun’s parents, but the more you left home every year, the more lenient and supportive he had become in allowing you to fly. It sparked hope in you, that these travels would be the key for you to ease them into realising that maybe staying at home forever and working at a place you've known all your life wasn't exactly what you wanted.
But the bigger reason why you didn’t want to come back to this place that had become your ultimate favourite had something to do with the past week in Jaehyun’s absence. Everywhere here reminded you of him and there were too much memories in all the places you walk by, too much memories of a person who probably was just as unsure as you as to where this whole thing between you was heading towards. You were only beginning to figure out your life and you weren’t confident you needed one more thing that needed figuring out on your list.
“I’m really happy for you y/n,” Jaehyun says genuinely but a question lingers in his mind. Where was he in the picture? “Do you have your eyes set somewhere in particular?”
You shake your head because you had no clue, besides, you had only made up your mind just there. “Not yet, no.”
Jaehyun purses his lips together in a thin line as he falls silent. Was he expecting too much? Because the utter disappointment certainly felt like it. “So, I guess I won’t be seeing you next year then?”
His voice breaks your heart because his words come out in a bare whisper, sounding more like a statement for himself rather than a question for you.
“Jae–”
“It’s alright.”
It really wasn't, but in his eyes, you didn't need to know that. You were under no obligation to see him despite how he felt for you and maybe your decision would be the best for the two of you.
“Can you just, come here?” Jaehyun asks extending his arm out, beckoning you to come and rest against him. You follow, leaning into him until you’re comfortably pressed up against his side, his arm around your waist keeping you secure. Jaehyun exhales a breath, a small and brief fog getting lost in the air. “I hope you had fun today, y/n, I did.”
“Jae please don’t.”
You’ve made your decision but you were definitely not ready for a goodbye yet. You take your head off of his shoulder so that you can look at him, his sad eyes a reminder of what awaits tomorrow. Your eyes are reflected on his and they appear just as miserable as his. You lean forward until your forehead touches with his, taking in what’s left of your time together. You feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and suddenly you're too aware of how close you both are to each other. So when you pull away, your eyes drift to his lips just as his are on yours.
And you feel like you're going to regret it forever if you don’t do what your brain’s telling you to do. So you shut your eyes and lean in close, until your lips meet with his, time standing still, bodies warming at the contact.
Jaehyun reciprocates the kiss, shifting his hands so that one keeps you still by nape, one caressing your jaw. If Jaehyun couldn’t tell you with words how much he wanted you to stay, he hoped he could express it in the kiss that makes his head spin and his heart hammer against his ribcage.
Because he wanted nothing more but to keep seeing you, even if it meant waiting another year.
But it mustn’t have been enough.
Because you don’t change your mind.
And you still leave the next day, without any promise of a next year to look forward to.
Winter five.
It feels unusual not to be in the same place for the fifth winter in a row but at the same time, it feels good to be somewhere you’ve never been, all the places you have yet to see, endless. The grand city of Paris known as the city of lights, well recognised for its exquisite cuisine, unique culture and historic monuments, but also known as the city of love. You’ve researched a tonne of information prior to landing and the word “love” related to the city intrigues you the most. The internet and travel brochures list many reasons as to why Paris is indeed the city of love but being here now, having strolled down the Champs Elysees and having followed the River Seine along its path, you could definitely feel and see why it was recognised as a romantic city. In almost every direction you looked, couples were scattered everywhere, holding hands, taking pictures of one another, sharing a laugh. Love was all around and it wasn’t even Valentine’s day. You feel loved too because you’re greeted with smiles as you walk past people, making your insides warm and fuzzy.
But there’s also that feeling too.
You miss him.
And you can’t get the image of him from that night out of your head because he was smiling yet his eyes spoke of a different story. No matter how much you try to push him out of your thoughts, even going as far as picking some place else as to avoid him, it was almost impossible because your subconscious had developed this habit of naturally looking for him the moment you stepped on a plane to fly off to somewhere. Maybe picking Paris was a mistake because now you were imagining what it would be like to see the view from up the Eiffel Tower with him. After all, the greatest views of your life have so far been shared with him. And to think that Paris is indeed the city of love... you couldn't help but wonder if this trip would have been more meaningful if you hand’t been so scared that night.
You catch yourself sighing again as you turn the page of your book, your half empty cup of coffee sitting in front of you on a table that overlooks the River Seine. Brené Brown says that “vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” You lift your eyes off the page and contemplate, letting your eyes wander over the crystals on the river that shine as a result of the sun’s rays shining on the surface. Vulnerability. Weakness. Courage. These three words ring in your head and though very different from one another, seem to complement each other very well.
Vulnerability.
What was it like to be vulnerable? You sit and contemplate and come to the conclusion after minutes of trying to recall times where you have been vulnerable, that in fact, no memory comes to mind. With this discovery, comes the realisation that you had so much inside of you to unpack, so much emotions repressed deep down and so much issues that needed to be addressed and talked about. Vulnerability suddenly seemed so daunting to you because it meant letting people in and you weren’t certain you wanted to allow that yet. You’ve been putting up your walls so high all your life that it’s horrifying to even think about lowering them down even just a tiny bit.
Your train of thought gets interrupted with the shrill ringing of your phone. You’re quick to fish it out of your bag and slide the green button across the screen just in time to hear you dad’s voice on the other line. “Hey, dad.”
“Hey sweetheart, how’s Paris?” He sounds excited to hear from you, you can literally hear him smiling through the phone.
He makes you smile genuinely, as if what you were thinking seconds prior to this phone call didn't just make you contemplate your whole life altogether. “Paris is great. Absolutely beautiful dad, I wish you could come and visit sometime.”
He chuckles on the line and you can imagine the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes appear. “That would be great. I can’t wait to hear all of your stories when you get back.”
“In three days dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you reply, the thought of going back neither making you happy nor sad.
There’s a long pause that follows before your dad speaks again. “Everything alright sweetheart?”
Everything was alright. But it didn’t really feel like it.
“Y-yeah. Just, uhh, thinking.”
You hear shuffling in the background followed by a quiet sound of a door opening and closing and you figure your dad had just gone out to the patio, his favourite part of the house back home, most likely looking upwards to see if there were any stars visible in his night sky.
“Listen love, I know you fly back in three days, but no rush okay? Take as much time as you need,” he reassures and somehow he’s unintentionally lifted so much weight off of your chest, the sincerity coated with a hint of worry in his voice triggering your waterworks. “Take all the time you need to think. We owe you at least that. I’ll deal with your mom.”
“Dad.”
“Alright I gotta go. Stay safe and take lots of pictures! Love you.”
Weakness.
Your parents were your absolute weakness, and possibly the biggest hindrances to all the things that your heart would’ve desired. You could never imagine breaking their hearts, that was the absolute last thing you’d ever want to do. That’s why you think you’ve been living such a sheltered life with no risks, no boundaries overstepped and certainly no rules broken. You’ve been programmed to portray the image of the most perfect child to your parents that even the thought of disappointing them makes you grimace and your chest tighten. They take pride in you, always showing you and all the things you’ve achieved, off to friends and family and the absolute perfect person they know you to be.
But why wasn’t it fulfilling at all?
Love was making your loved ones happy, wasn’t it?
You’ve known nothing all your life but to put family first and now that your dad was pushing you to spend time away from them and dedicate it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that maybe you hadn't been so discreet with what you’ve worked so hard to hide. Now that he was urging you to put yourself first, it felt like abandoning everything you’ve known all your life and starting on a clean, blank slate. He definitely saw something you didn't.
But where do you even begin?
“Oh my God I can’t believe you’re here!” You shriek as you see a familiar man standing by the revolving doors by the entrance of your hotel. You pick up your pace and run to the person you haven’t seen in so long, tears almost brimming your eyes as you find yourself crushed in a tight hug.
Your brother laughs against your shoulder, tightening his hug, “And I can’t believe you didn't tell me you were in Paris? Which is literally what? Right beside where I am?”
You hug him some more before you finally let go of him, eyeing him from head to toe, unconsciously picking out on things that have changed over the years, but much to your surprise, you don’t find any. “How did you know?”
Kun chuckles, “Mom called.”
You roll your eyes playfully, “Of course.”
“She’s just worried about you,” Kun defends.
“When is she not?”
“Feisty as always,” Kun comments, ruffling your hair.
Kun fills you in on what’s been happening in his life in the years he’s been away from home. He tells you all about Berlin and how much he loves it there, how in love he is with work and how different but magnificent the place is. He looks happy, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever seen him in all the years you’ve lived with each other and with your parents. As you listen to him gush about his plans and a possible promotion in Denmark over brunch and warm croissants, you can’t help but feel a wave of admiration for him. Growing up, Kun has always been your role model. Not in a sense that he always pleased your parents, because growing up, Kun, despite having good grades and never getting in trouble, he and your parents were just never on the same page when it came to talks of the future. You admired him because from the very beginning, he always knew what he wanted and sought and fought for it even if it meant hurting those who loved him the most.
“Earth to y/n?” Kun waves a hand in front of your face when he sees you’ve zoned out, your food half touched.
You blink a couple of times before you’re able to refocus on your brother again, “Sorry. What were you saying?”
Kun shakes his head with a smile, “I was asking how mom and dad are at home.”
“They’re okay. Still the same,” you reply and hope it would suffice but the way Kun is looking at you tells you he needed more. “The pharmacies are doing okay. Mom and dad say business is as at its best right now. That’s pretty much what they’re still up to.”
“Mom still as uptight as ever?”
You nod, smiling, “Yeah. She hasn’t changed one bit.”
“Expected that one,” Kun agrees teasingly. “And dad?”
“Dad’s been..” you start, remembering your phone call with him yesterday. “He’s been okay, still goofy.”
“You know dad’s been telling me about your yearly travels,” Kun admits, his tone of voice shifting to a more serious one, taking a sip from his water. “How come you didn't tell me? I know you have my number. And if it weren’t for mom, I would’ve never known you were so close.”
You sigh, dropping your knife and fork on the table, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just I didn't know what to say or how to tell you. I didn’t even really understand what I was getting myself into. I just.. wanted to go away.”
“Well I can’t say I'm not surprised given I know what you’re like,” Kun says. If there was one person who had known you best, it would be him. “But hell, y/n, I'm so happy for you? I really really am. It mustn’t have been easy leaving on your own like that.”
“You make it sound like I’m a baby, Kun.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” Kun leans forward and crosses his arms on the table so that he can rest his weight on it. “What I meant was that, growing up, you were always working so hard to please mom and dad. You always prioritised what they wanted more than anything else and I think in that process, you forgot all about what you wanted. So much that you don’t even know what you actually want because you’ve never had the time to actually think about it.”
Kun’s eyes are sincere and his words even more so. “Dad’s been worrying about you, you know. And not in the way that mom is, like you know with your safety and all that during your travels. But with your life in general.. He’s worried he hasn’t been a great parent to you, that he never really took the time to listen to you or what you wanted.” Kun pauses and releases a sigh, “Dad.. I think he knows you’re not happy at home, y/n.”
Right on instinct, even at this moment, you’re thinking about how horrible your dad must feel for seeing right through all the layers to conceal the truth.
“Was it..” you pause, thinking if it’s the right question to ask but Kun is gazing at you tenderly, just needing his little sister to voice what’s on her mind.
“Was it hard leaving home?”
Kun smiles, “It was harder proving to them I didn't want to stay.” You nod slowly, recounting the endless fights and arguments Kun had with your parents, getting the worst end of it from your mom. “Because I love them to pieces and I saw how much it broke their hearts when I told them.”
“Yeah?”
“And of course, it was hard leaving you too,” he teases, breaking the atmosphere that had almost become suffocating.
You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to lie.”
Kun just laughs, his shoulders shaking as he does before he falls silent again with you, the distant chatters of people in the café filling your ears.
“You should give it a thought, y/n,” he suggests, making you look up from your plate. “About what you want. Mom and dad.. they’ll be okay. Sooner or later they’re going to realise you were made for so much more. And they’re going to be okay with it, because more than anything, they love you and love means letting go too.”
You spend the rest of the day goofing around with your older brother, waves of nostalgia hitting you when it takes you back to older and simpler times. You take lots of pictures together and send it to your parents to which they’re more than ecstatic to receive, your mom’s worries and concerns easing slightly with the knowledge you were with family. Kun teases you nonstop about not having a boyfriend but his teasing backfires when he realises he’s single too, pretending to weep about it in the end. You wonder if you’d tell him about Jaehyun but decide against it knowing more questions would unfold at the mere mention of his name.
“Will you please get in touch with me and stop ignoring my calls and texts?” Kun pleads the next day when you bring him to the airport. “I want to know my sister’s whereabouts too and what she’s up to.”
You laugh as you embrace him for the last time, “I don’t want you tagging along though if I do though.”
“Rude.”
“I’ll pick up your calls, I promise.”
Kun pulls back from the hug and grips you by the shoulders to take one good look at you, “If only my schedule allowed me to stay longer, one day wasn’t enough.”
You smile at him reassuringly, “It’s okay. There’ll be plenty more trips in the future,” he raises his brows at you and gives you a knowing look, “that I promise I will let you know of.”
Kun smiles immediately and pats your head, “Good. Enjoy your last two days okay? And think about what I said.”
You nod eagerly, feeling relieved to have had that conversation with Kun yesterday. “I will. Have a safe flight.”
“Love you.”
When you walk along the River Seine once again, you notice many things along the bridges you didn’t notice before, paintings and artists being some of them. It makes you stop in your step when a particular painting of the Eiffel Tower, located just behind where this particular stand is, catches your eye. It’s a painting of the tower at night, the thousands of lightbulbs lighting up and glistening in the painting with the dashes of yellows and oranges just like it would in real life. You’re tilting your head to the side to really figure out what it is about this painting, besides its perfection, that has you so captivated and feeling some sort of way. You must be staring for so long because the man that’s running the stand approaches you and says something you don’t quite hear the first time around.
“Can I help you, miss?” he asks again in French to which you politely decline with your limited vocabulary.
The sun has fully set when you climb the Eiffel Tower, braving the cold winds to gape at the view below you. It’s all so breathtaking, the way all the lights fall into place, shedding incandescence in all the right places. You can see the river stretch on for miles on end, the buildings that try to rise as high as the Eiffel and the roads that lead to anywhere and everywhere. It’s so gorgeous that you know, even as you take your camera out of your bag, that no photo could ever capture just how magnificent it all was. You give up trying to capture the perfect picture after taking three, choosing to just stop and marvel at the view some more.
Courage.
You don’t have any recollection of moments you’ve been courageous, the closest that comes to mind is probably when you had to stand up in front of an entire lecture hall to give a presentation about the causes and consequences of the rise and fall of economies back in university, or maybe that time you broke it to your parents that you had flights booked for Budapest on a whim, something that up to this day, surprises you greatly they actually let you go. But nothing significant or life changing sticks out, nothing worth giving yourself a pat on the back for accompanied with the words “I’m proud of myself.” You suddenly begin to feel so small then, one big question resonating in your head.
What had you accomplished?
“God, I should’ve known I'd find you here.”
You carry on with your business, turning on your heels to see what the view might be like on the other end of the railing, not really wanting to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation, your distance to them too close you could hear everything.
“You’ve always liked your views.”
Still too close so you keep walking.
“Y/n.”
You freeze. It couldn’t be.
But it really is.
Because when you turn around, Jaehyun is there, eyes set on you with that same smile you can’t stop thinking about.
Your face must have given away how shocked you feel internally because you see Jaehyun chuckling. “What are you...” you can’t even find your voice because it’s as if all the thinking about Jaehyun day and night has actually brought him here to you.
Jaehyun takes a step forward and he sees you flinch, really confirming that he really is real. He stops there in his spot, afraid that if he advanced any further, he’d scare you away completely.
“Look y/n, hear me out. I just need you to listen, okay?” Jaehyun takes a deep breath and that’s when you realise that he’s breathless.
“I don’t know how to say this– but, I– I, like you y/n. And if I'm going to be very honest, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Which I know sounds crazy considering the short amount of time we’ve spent with each other. But I know, I just know and it’s taken me so long to figure out what to do because I've never even felt this before and I don’t want to scare you away, that’s the last thing I want to do–”
If there were to be a good time to be courageous it would definitely be now and you’re sure you were going to thank yourself later.
In the middle of Jaehyun’s messy confession, your legs take over, bringing you right to him, circle your arms around his neck and prevent him from uttering yet another coherent sentence by kissing him. He pulls you close just in time to confirm this was indeed your reality, that he wasn’t just in your thoughts anymore, that he really was here kissing you too.
For the first time ever, you felt courageous and it felt so liberating.
The heavens pour just when you reach the bottom of the Eiffel Tower and you’re a laughing mess with Jaehyun as you scurry under the rain to get to your hotel, which, you’re thankful is just close by. You’re drenched to the skin when you reach the reception of your hotel, the two of you leaving a little trail of water on the shiny marble floors. You shoot the receptionist an apologetic smile before pulling Jaehyun to the side.
“Whereabouts are you staying?” you ask out of curiosity, gathering up all your hair on top of one shoulder.
Jaehyun smiles bashfully, a hand flying upwards to rub his nape, “Actually... about that.”
“What?” You squint your eyes at him.
“I don’t know yet.”
“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”
Jaehyun swipes his tongue over his lower lip and stuffs his balled palms into the pockets of his wet jeans. “Well, this is actually the fifth country I've been to the past two weeks and I was gonna stop looking for you here–” he purses his lips to stop. “I, I must have forgotten to book myself a hotel and the airlines apparently lost my luggage today.”
You gaze at him in awe, droplets of water dripping down the side of his face, your body warm and your insides even warmer. You can’t suppress the smile that’s getting bigger on your face.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“You are one crazy man, Jaehyun.”
But as crazy as he is, you give him shelter for the night, pulling him by the hand to your hotel room. If Jaehyun liked to steal glances at you before, he surely loved to stare at you now, even as you’re using the hairdryer to dry his clothes. You don’t reciprocate his gaze because he was currently half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist. It takes another thirty minutes for his clothes to dry, just enough time for you to finally breathe now that he isn’t smiling at you.
Jaehyun had suggested to take the sofa for the night and you’re quick to say no when you realise that the sofa is literally half his height. His would suffer in the morning having to compromise his height like that the whole night. So that’s how you end up face to face with him on your single bed, faces and bodies just inches away from each other’s, warm and cozy under the sheets. He’s playing with strands of your hair (that has since dried) and it almost lulls you to sleep, if it weren’t for everything you wanted to say to him.
“I think I finally know what I want to do, Jae,” you mumble, your lids closed as he continues the ministrations of his fingers on your hair.
“Yeah? Enlighten me.”
“I want to paint.”
Memories of your childhood replay in your head, the long forgotten hobby re-igniting a spark of passion within you. No wonder the painting by the river earlier captivated you so much, it reminded you of something you had once felt so passionate about.
When Jaehyun doesn’t say anything and when he stops playing with your hair, you open your eyes to find him smiling at you, dimples showing, gaze on you soft, his happiness for you literally written on his face. So you scoot closer just as he welcomes you into his arms, feeling like you’re right in the place you’re meant to be.
“You are amazing,” he breathes.
“It’s taken me twenty five years to figure out what I want to do with my life Jae, what part of that is amazing?” you muse, tracing your index finger on his forehead to swipe a piece of hair away.
“And it’s taken me twenty six years to figure out what I want in mine,” Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s one year later than you. I think you’re doing a pretty great job y/n.”
You stare up at him, let your eyes linger on every single one of his features, your finger tracing the soft of his skin. He was even more beautiful up close. Jaehyun watches you closely, studying your expression of awe. Little do you know he had the exact same thoughts as you having you this close to him.
“Jae can we talk about what you said in the tower earlier?”
Jaehyun avoids your gaze and rests his forehead on yours, cuddling you even closer. “Please don’t remind me. That was not how I intended to confess, I swear.”
“But was it true? That you’re, you’re?”
“Yeah, it’s true. I am.”
“Jae look at me,” you say, cupping his cheek. “Please?”
So he opens his eyes and for a brief moment, you swear you see his pupils dilate when he gazes at you. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun finally finishes off what he had started earlier but not before seeking approval from your eyes which he receives almost immediately.
“I realised that what I've wanted my whole life was to be understood, y/n, just for someone, anyone, to really see me. And I didn’t even realise I wanted that until you saw right through me.” Jaehyun was definitely something else.
“Remember what you said to me last year by the river? That I was so much more than my appearance, that I was way more than what people perceived me to be? I, I didn’t know I needed to hear that until I did. And that’s when I knew, you ripped the words right out of my mouth because finally, someone understood.” Jaehyun smiles softly at you, eyes unmoving the whole time he speaks.
“Someone finally saw me,” he finishes. “You saw me.”
In the silence of your thoughts and in the comfort of Jaehyun’s confession, you let yourself be brave one more time and allow yourself to fall, fall for the beautiful person he is through and through.
The word vulnerable reappears in your head along with the memory of Jaehyun asking the right questions to lead you to what you’ve learned about yourself in the past couple of weeks, maybe even the past few years. With every question came with some sort of an answer that led you closer to discovering just what you might really want in your life. And it gets you thinking that maybe you have been vulnerable before. Once you began looking for Jaehyun, was the exact same time you let him in.
You kept looking for him everywhere because with him, everything seemed to make more sense.
And even though you didn’t have the right words to tell him that for now, you hope that your lips would suffice for now, leaning upwards to catch his soft lips with yours, silently letting him know you felt the same way.
No words would be enough to describe how alive you feel, how alive Jaehyun makes you feel, awakening parts of you that have slept for far too long.
Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.
“Come back to Korea with me,” Jaehyun murmurs when you pull away, keeping yourself warm and safe in his embrace. “My friend’s getting married and I need a date. I want you to be my date.”
You laugh heartily, the sound echoing in the room.
“I would love to be your date, Jae.”
You were definitely not returning home just yet.
#jaehyun#nct#jeong jaehyun#nct jaehyun#nct 127#nct u#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun drabbles#jaehyun blurbs#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun fic#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct blurbs#nct fluff#nct au#jaehyun scenario#jaehyun imagine#jaehyun drabble#jaehyun blurb#nct scenario#nct drabble#nct imagine#nct blurb#jung jaehyun#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
33 obikin 🙏
bless i can't write anything straightforward or normal to save my life
33. Celebrity/Fan AU (modern AU, singer Obi-Wan)(1.8k)
Obi-Wan had only wanted to cook, really.
He’d decided on Tuesday night that he would take Friday off as a sort of self-care day. He needed it. In the midst of a world tour, finally with a week to breathe back in his home city, he’d wanted to relax for a day. One day without music or an audience of any kind, just him in an apartment filled mostly with dusty counters and almost expired foods.
He loves his fans, because of course he loves his fans. He loves the fact that people relate to what he writes enough to listen to his albums, although he has gone through several different sounds over the course of his career. He loves that he can be 39 and still touring the world, even though he started his career as a 13-year-old-child-actor turned teen-pop-sensation turned serious musician turned perhaps-washed-up-serious-musician turned very-much-serious-musician-actually-this-time.
If not for his fans, he wouldn’t be able to afford this house on the outskirts of his town. He wouldn’t be able to boast his performances in three-fourths of the world’s major cities. He wouldn’t be able to continue to have a career. No. He loves his fans.
It’s just that sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he just wants peace and quiet, a moment to himself, where he can float away without concerning himself with the flow of the setlist, the timing of the encore, the lyrics and rhythms of songs he wrote a decade ago when he was practically a different person.
It’s just such a shame that Obi-Wan leaves the handle of the wooden spoon too close to the stove’s open flame when he stirs and adjusts the heat to low for an hour so he can go soak off his stress in the bath.
It’s just such a shame that the smoke alarms from the kitchen cannot be heard over the music he’s playing in the master bath.
Obi-Wan sinks beneath the water, enjoying the unyielding pressure. He doesn’t want to retire, he tells himself. He has so many more songs to write. Sure, he hasn’t written an actual good song in two years and people are starting to notice. Sure, the intense scrutiny is driving him up the wall and killing anything creative that he’s ever harbored in his soul. Sure, his muscles and bones ache and he had almost had a breakdown the other day when he first walked through the door of his home and couldn’t remember if there was a bathroom on the first floor, but.
But he doesn’t want to retire yet. He just has to admit he’s waning, even to himself. Whatever inspiration he had has been used up or otherwise escaped. All he has now to his name are songs that have already been sung.
He doesn’t know how long he spends in the bath, really. Long enough that the album changes twice. Long enough that his fingers prune up and his eyes grow lax. Long enough that he tells himself that no matter how soothing the lavender essence is, it would be very dangerous for him to fall asleep in the bath because the news articles alone would be enough to raise him from the dead only to strike him down again.
(Long enough for the wooden spoon’s handle next to the pot to catch on fire. Long enough for that fire to burn down to the oil on the spoon itself. Long enough for the dishtowel it was resting on to ignite as well.)
The smoke alarm clues in before Obi-Wan does.
Luckily, Obi-Wan had paid extra for a smoke alarm that, when registering a certain threshold of smoke, sends a notification to the closest fire department.
Luckily, this all happens while Obi-Wan is unaware, but before he becomes in peril.
He actually remains unaware of the whole thing right up until the moment a fully-suited firefighter kicks through the door of his bathroom.
That’s when he jerks up, very unceremoniously. “Fucking Chr--what?” he shouts, raising a hand to cover his exposed chest for reasons unknown.
“Obi--??” the masked firefighter starts to say, in something akin to shock, but like Obi-Wan is going to give ground here and now. He’s cornered the market on shock on this occasion, thanks much.
“What the--”
“Your house is on fire!” the man yells over him, looking around the bathroom wildly until he sees a fluffy off-white bathrobe hanging by a hook near the door. He throws it at Obi-Wan, who just catches it before it can get wet.
“My house is what?” Obi-Wan splutters, standing automatically to put on the piece of clothing. The helmet of the firefighter turns away to give him privacy. Despite himself, he finds it rather endearing. He ties the belt around his waist tightly, stepping out of the tub.
As soon as he’s out of the water, the other man swoops him up and over his shoulder. Obi-Wan lets out a scream which he’ll probably be absolutely mortified about later.
But now, what’s more distressing is the way his body is responding to the hold he’s been placed in. He’s thirty-nine years old. He’s definitely too old for this. He should definitely know better than to be even slight aroused by such a display of...strength and stalwartness and--
The man walks him out of the bathroom and the very first thing he notices is the heat that hits his skin. “Oh!” he whimpers and then yells wordlessly in absolute panic as he realizes what this heat must mean. His house is on fire. Actual fire. Actually on fire. There’s a fireman here. Because his house is on fire.
He’s only a little ashamed to admit that there’s a fair amount of thrashing that happens immediately upon this realization.
Enough so, in fact, that the firefighter transfers him from over his shoulder to cradled in his arms, so as to hold tightly against the movement of his limbs. “Stop--moving!” the man says irritably. Obi-Wan wants to tell him to work on his bedside manner, seeing as how his house is on fire, but he doesn’t have time before they descend the stairs and he can see the actual flames.
The stairs themselves are fine, which makes sense. Hot air rises. The dining room, parlor, and entryway look like they’re absolutely covered in fire though, so really his fireman was just in time to save him.
The smoke is acrid against the back of his throat, and Obi-Wan buries his face against the textured shoulder of his rescuer's uniform just so he doesn’t have to look or breathe the air, although he feels the smoke already working its way through his lungs. Well. That might just be his imagination.
They’re out of the house in a matter of seconds, and Obi-Wan’s eyes water immediately at the difference in air quality.
The man who’s been carrying him sets him down gently on the lip of the fire truck, far enough away from the house that he’s not in any danger--though most of the place is fine still--but close enough that someone can keep an eye on him. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t remembered to grab his phone. That phone was very important. Hopefully the other firefighters will be able to stop the fire before it reaches his bathroom.
His firefighter seems intent on hovering close to him, even as there's a fire raging in the background. Obi-Wan supposes that there's around five firefighters on his property, including the one in front of him. The other four should probably be able to handle it, whether or not the fifth decides to join in or stay hovering around Obi-Wan like he's a sickly orphan.
“Are you okay?” An earnest voice asks him from under the helmet.
Obi-Wan opens his mouth to say he’s fine, that at most he just feels like an idiot for being stranded outside in his bathrobe as a group of public service officials fight a fire he certainly, most likely, probably caused.
But he starts to cough instead, and his firefighter steps forward immediately, placing one hand on his back and the other on his chest, both beneath his robe. He hopes the man can't feel his shiver. That would be even more mortifying than his current situation.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Obi-Wan wheezes after the coughs have passed. The helmet the man is wearing only shows a quarter of his face, but he looks awfully boyish. “Aren’t you a little young to be a firefighter?”
“Deep breaths, please,” the man (boy?) tells him, which isn’t a proper response. “There’s an ambulance already on the way--it’s protocol, sir--but yes, I’m trained in emergency medical response.”
“A man of many talents,” Obi-Wan says dazedly, rubbing a hand against his chest where it aches as he watches a few men run around his house with a house. “And here all I can do is sing.”
“Hopefully you still can, sir,” his firefighter responds. “Only I’ve got tickets for your show in two days, and my little sister has been excited for weeks over this.”
Obi-Wan laughs despite himself. He’s sure it sounds at least a little bit hysterical. “Would you like me to dedicate a song for you? The man who saved my life?”
Even the helmet can't hide the nice shade of red his firefighter blushes at those words.
“What’s your name?” Obi-Wan asks, smoothing down his still-damp hair. It feels important to know his name. It feels just as important to look his best, given the circumstances.
The firefighter ducks his head and takes off his helmet. Obi-Wan wonders if the man should be going back to work, or if he’s been assigned victim duty. Either way, Obi-Wan isn’t going to complain, definitely not after his firefighter shakes out his hair and turns to face him with a sheepish grin stretching across a handsome face. “‘M Anakin,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan is awfully aware that he’s dressed only in his bathrobe in front of a very pretty firefighter who seems to know who he is--who seems to have tickets for his upcoming show. “Call me Obi-Wan,” he tells him, already trying to remember his manager’s phone number so that he can bump Anakin and his sister’s tickets up to the VIP section. It’s the least he can do, after all. Anakin had just saved his life.
“Wish it was under better circumstances,” Anakin says with a shy sort of twist of his mouth. Obi-Wan gets the impression that it isn’t just his little sister that’s been excited for his concert. An impression that is solidified quickly as Anakin tacks on, “I’m a huge fan of your work.”
Obi-Wan laughs incredulously at this, at the entire situation, at the man in front of him, at the fact that some part of his brain has started composing a song the second his firefighter had smiled at him in his bathrobe with his tired face and wet hair, kitchen burning his house down because he’d forgotten basic fire-safety rules in favor of his own self-care soak.
“Well,” he says, patting his firefighter’s knee, “I don’t have to tell you that I’m a huge fan of your work as well.”
#later anakin gives obi-wan such a huge earfull about proper fire safety in the kitchen#never leave something unattended for more than like five minutes >:(#but also later obi-wan writes an entire album full of fire related songs and or songs about burning#only some of them would call to mind mustafar and theyre all anakins least favorite ones because they're sad break up songs#and anakins like >:0 every time he hears one of those in public#tries to contain the urge to be like 'my husband LOVES ME BTW and this song is A FICTIONAL WORK not based on ANY actual EVENTS#we're SO happy together and if he were here I'd MAKE OUT WITH HIM RN' just in case any gossip rags got any ideas from the new albm#ahsoka refuses to go out in public now with him just in case#so does obi-wan#asks#my fics#obikin#prompt fill
100 notes
·
View notes
Note
HIIIIII! Can you pls pls pls pls write a fic with Joaquin where the reader is pregnant while Joaquin is deployed and she’s having a hard time (much angst). But he comes home early to surprise her? (Fluff))
I’m ready and prepared to make myself cry and damn, I just finished writing this and I think I even broke my own heart. You asked for angst nonnie so sorry not sorry if this hurts but I did try my hardest to make the ending more fluff like…. Not sure how that went though
and for everyone else yes based on this request it will be an afab!reader fic
You stared in front of the mirror, your hand resting over your stomach as you tried to figure out the best position to take a photo in, but nothing seemed good. Your body had changed as you were farther along in your pregnancy, while your stomach grew so did other parts of you and you felt yourself no longer enjoying the supposed joys that come with having a child. And the worst part, you didn’t have Joaquin by your side.
You sighed and looked around the bedroom, it seemed to reflect the negative thoughts running through your mind. The only bright thing being the sunlight coming in through the window, but even then it was bold and harsh so unlike the usual golden haze you loved.
He would have called by now, you looked at the time to confirm, and having realized so you found yourself falling deeper into your mind.
Usually you wouldn’t mind having Joaquin be deployed but now as you’re so close to having your child, you wish that for once you had said no, told the U.S. government that they can’t have him until after your baby is born.
You can hear Fish run up to the door of your apartment, and then there’s a knock on the door. He doesn’t bark, he hasn’t been doing that ever since Joaquin left either, but at least he is out of his depressive state enough to be aware.
Grabbing one of Joaquin’s sweaters, which no longer fits you in a way you usually enjoy, you head to the door trying to pull back your emotions so that whoever is there won’t see them.
You open the door, it’s Bucky. He can tell.
“Hi Buck,” you let him in and before another word is shared he brings you into what you call, his bear hug.
His embrace seems to spread through you like a small fire, but it isn’t enough to truly fill you with warmth- at least not in the way Joaquin does.
“How you doing, kid?” His strong gaze peers down at you as the two of you settle on the sofa, Fish snuggled in between you.
You shrug your shoulders, looking in front of you instead of at him, afraid that just catching his eyes with yours will open up the gates that you have under lock and key, “I’m just missing Joaquin.”
He sighed, and then silence.
You’re not sure for how long the two of you are seated there, you staring at the blank tv and Bucky staring at you, his hand unconsciously running through Fish’s fur.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” The question is directed at you, but you don’t respond, a quick look in your peripheral vision being the only notion that Bucky gets to you listening, “We can go to that cafe you like.”
His stare is somehow getting stronger but also softer, and you know that if you fully looked at him you’d see how his eyes almost turned pout-like.
Of course, Fish is already sitting up, wagging his tail as much as possible at the thought of being taken out for another walk- especially one that would be with Bucky. And now it’s the two of them, staring at you, waiting.
You sigh softly, but nod your head nonetheless, “Okay, can you get my shoes though please?”
Bucky stands up without a responds and grabs the only shoes you’ve been wearing recently and along the way gets Fish’s leash and collar. Out the door the three of you go, and for once since you woke up, you find the sun no longer feeling as harsh. A light breeze picks up and it seems to take some of your emotions with it, all the turmoil running through your mind disappears with each step you take closer and closer to the cafe.
Bucky quickly finds a spot outside and goes inside only to return a second later with your order in hand. You chuckle, a soft smile finally resting on your face.
“You knew I’d say yes, wouldn’t you?” You peer at him from above your cup, cherishing each sip of the heavenly liquid.
Bucky shrugged, a well-known smirk gracing his face, “I had a feeling.”
And there the two of you stay, at times talking about anything and everything you feel, and at other times merely enjoying each other’s presence and the world around you.
The sun starts to say goodbye and graces you with the myriad of colors on its tail, and the three of you say goodbye in return, walking back to the apartment no matter how badly you want to stay away from the empty space.
You arrive at the door, your body almost trembling at the fact that behind that door you’ll be faced with nothing. Bucky turns to you, “Do you want me to stay the night?”
You shake your head, “I’ll be fine.”
And there you stand, clenching and unclenching your hand as you find the energy to open the door.
Somehow you do so, your body trying so badly not to break down, only instead of being faced with the usual cold and emptiness that came with Joaquin’s deployment, you’re met with a warmth your body has craved.
You can sense him, almost automatically, and make your way to the bedroom with a ferocity that you haven’t felt in a while.
There he is, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, just a few footsteps away. You want to run to him, to jump into his arms, only instead you find yourself falling.
You’d spent so long holding yourself by a single tether that now that he’s with you, the tether breaks. Now he’s holding you, his arms wrapping themselves around you almost protectively, his voice filling your ears with their soft words, his very being intertwining with yours.
You don’t have to hear his exact words to know what they mean, I’m here, I’m home.
Tomorrow you’d have him explain. Tomorrow you’d tell him about the ghosts that seemed to haunt you throughout the day and night, the coldness that seeped into your bones and didn’t seem to leave no matter how hard you tried. But for now you’d just let him put you back together, hold you and speak to you for however long it takes.
——
Joaquin Torres: @pascalpanic @cleversturmhond @booksmusicteaandanimals @cooluncleboba @autumnleaves1991-reads @marvelouss-marvel @mischiefmanaged71 @the-and-sign-anon @barzal-burakovsky @young-romanoff
#remmys bounty#remmys writings#remmys requests#joaquin torres request#joaquin torres x you#joaquin torres imagine#joaquin torres x afab!reader#joaquin torres x reader#joaquin torres
87 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
nattravn-art
Of drawings & doodles
gemma-qw-art
Gemma
joongsdazzledshoes
What Am I Even Doing
5orless
5 or Less
allagameeverythang
frathouse | PRODUCTIONS