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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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WHEN THE COOKIE CRUMBLES. | I.MIDORIYA.

ʚ♡ɞ SYNOPSIS: following a series of unfortunate events, misunderstandings and years of pining after your pro hero friend— all it takes is one batch of cookies ‘n cream frosting for the two of you to finally get together.

ʚ♡ɞ PAIRING: izuku midoriya x fem!reader.

ʚ♡ɞ WC: 16.3K.

ʚ♡ɞ RATED: mature, 18+, mdni.

ʚ♡ɞ GENRE: pro hero!au, bakery!au, angst, fluff + smut.

ʚ♡ɞ CW: please read ! mutual pining, brief panic attack, heavy smut, soft sex ( characters aged up to twenties ), heavy food play!kink, praise!kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female receiving ), guided masturbation, exhibitionism, virginity loss, cumplay.

ʚ♡ɞ A/N: hi loves!! im FINALLY posting this belated b-day fic for deku! this was a part of @rat-zuki's the deku agenda escapes no-one collab. thank you annie for letting me take part!! sorry this was so late ‘n be sure to check out everyone else’s works!! ily guys, i missed writing for deku so i hope you enjoy!

ʚ♡ɞ masterlist | requests | kofi

there are three three key stages to baking a cake. the dry ingredients, the wet ingredients and the all important frosting on top.

there are three key stages to anything really; a failed relationship, a breakdown over school or work— and even life itself. a beginning, a middle and an end. childhood, the weird teenage years where you tell your mother it’s not just a phase and that you really are destined to marry whatever idol you had hanging on the back of your bedroom door...and then finally; adulthood. the confusing cesspool of responsibilities, like taxes and groceries mixed with proper adult emotions and scenarios that didn’t allow you to throw a hissy fit when something didn’t go the way you planned…

at least that’s what society would tell you.

you would argue that you never quite made it to adulthood, the kind age of twenty three not quite visible in your smile lines just yet; especially with the youthful round off to the shape of your face. you hadn’t followed the correct rite of passage into being a grown adult either— having dropped out of college three years shy of graduating to pursue your real, yet childlike dream of owning a bakery. as it turned out, the IT degree your mother had bestowed upon you wasn’t really your thing and as the responsible adult she was; she had thrown a fit about you dropping out, although your father and step mom had been more than willing to support you. hitoshi shinsou, your best friend, followed you in pursuing your career too— something about a stupid childhood pact that meant wherever you went, he would follow.

your quaint little bakery tucked away in the cosiest of street corners in downtown musutafu had been the creme de la creme of your life thus far; business booming when you first took off, aged twenty, and has been keeping yours and shinsou’s heads afloat ever since. with your grandmother’s recipe book tucked under your arm, customers travelled from near and far to try the wondrous goods of the cookie crumble bakery ( a name that took you and your purple haired companion half a bottle of vodka to create ).

it didn’t matter where people were from or what burdens they carried on their shoulders when walking into your humble bakery— all that they knew was the welcoming scent of warm manuka honey and freshly baked bread—free of judgement to ease their souls. grownups became children again, finding solace in classic childhood treats like battenberg cakes and jammy dodgers while teenagers became mature on their first dates; treating one another to a slice of romance in the form of red velvet cakes to share with that week’s allowance. parents became heroes to their children with gapped-toothed smiles when treating them to your healthy, low-sugar goodies that wouldn’t rot through the rest of their teeth while pro heroes became civilians; relaxed and at ease.

yes, pro heroes.

you were lucky enough to have such esteemed guests visit your place regularly— having been uncovered after the cookie crumble bakery became a popular destination for teachers to give gifts of sweet treats to the pros after visiting schools. Once they had a bite of what you had to offer, the heroes would always come running back for more.

pro hero deku, otherwise humbly known as izuku midoriya, was one of your favourite guests; he found himself addicted to your grandmother’s decadent chocolate brownies after being gifted them by a group of teenage girls he’d saved— coming in biweekly for years to try whatever caught his eye in the display cabinets that day. it was only natural— and pretty fucking typical — for you to have developed a raging crush on the man, falling for the honeycomb freckles on his cheeks and the gumdrop sugar laced into the smiles izuku sent your way, making you weak in the knees as they tugged at your doughy and easily manipulated heart.

you couldn’t help it, izuku was so warm.

made you feel special and gooey on the inside like a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. shinsou would tell you that you were whipped, from the way you gifted the hero with an extra of whatever he was ordering despite the fact that you both knew he could afford it. he was just so warm. yet you were a baker and izuku was a hero and in his world there was never any room for a civilian like you.

so you busy yourself with creams and custards for your favourite glazed danishes— ignoring yourself and your annoying friend shinsou in favour of settling for the position of izuku’s little baking friend.

“your crush is coming, sugar,” shinsou tells you with a lazy smile, leaning over the counter during his break from waiting tables and chatting with the old ladies in the back corner. the ones who love him and give him hard boiled candies and call him sugar.

you jump up from your place behind it, eyes shooting to the door with its charming little bell swinging from side to side— alerting the entry of the pro hero ( who, if any bigger, would break the tiny door frame of your quaint little establishment ) tired from work but a smile still on his face.

“a crush, huh?” izuku hums, lips quirked up curiously, dampening his darling expression— his buff frame joins shinsou in leaning over the counter, strong arms crossed and showing the flex of his muscles from under his teal hero suit. he must have come straight from work to see you, or rather to see if you’d gotten his order finished like you said you would. nonetheless, your heart flutters.

snapping back to reality, you make an attempt to shake your head— waving your arms in protest before your purple haired friend can speak for you again. you fail. “little yn has a crush on someone, don’t you?” his eyes speak for his teasing tone.

“oh yeah?”

oh no. “definitely not,” you reach over and slap a hand over shinsou’s mouth. apron catching on your display cabinet and making you stumble, body flaming with embarrassment. izuku chuckles. “i don’t have a crush on anyone. don’t be stupid. i’m too busy running this place all by myself.”

you scowl at hitoshi, who only offers you a measly shrug as you slowly pull your hand from his mouth and izuku laughs a little harder at your interactions, having known you both for just over two years.

“ouchie, you know i help you run this place too.” your best friend says to you, winking.

“it’s true,” izuku adds after a slight pause, looking like he was going to say something else before changing his mind. he's grinning now, however. “i’ve never seen anyone entertain old ladies like shinsou does!”

both men give each other a knowing nod. shinsou speaks next. “exactly.”

“what? hitoshi, oh my god...whatever,” you deflate with defeat, withdrawing your body from the two men and avoiding deku’s sweet gaze as if you might melt when he looks at you. “i’m gonna go and grab your cheesecake izuku...neither of you, try to get into any trouble while i’m gone,” you let your eyes flicker to the pro hero briefly, allowing yourself to bask in his attention only just before retreating to the back room to retrieve the matcha cheesecake he’d ordered for his mother’s birthday.

you fan yourself on the way there, hoping to cool the heat that flushes through your body from the pro hero’s presence.

izuku is warm, but you’re drawn to his warmth like an ant to sugar.

whenever baking a cake, you advise combining the dry ingredients first.

no matter how many times a day you find yourself doing it, sieving together mixes of flour, salt, baking soda and other dry things is always a process you’ll find soothing. fine combing the ingredients with a sieve whilst adding air to your soon to be cake— much like breathing life into a creation, nurturing the very thing you created—much like love. in a strange metaphorical sort of way,

you were always careful with baking soda however; a teaspoon too much could destroy even the most cared for of things. practically explosive. it could cause a whole cake to blow. it reminded you of those science experiments you would do as a child, mixing the dangerous combination of vinegar and baking soda until it imploded.

much like a certain friend of izuku’s that you knew.

katsuki bakugou was like an explosion, from his hair to the nature by which he worked. you hadn’t known him very well, he’d stopped by the bakery once or twice and other times you’d seen him prowling the streets for villains and other menaces to society— but you’d never given him more than a short wave and nod, in fear of setting him off. it’s not like you could stop him and have idle chit chat about how in love you were with his childhood rival.

“how much longer am i gonna have to wait for this damn cake?” dynamight hisses from a two seated table relatively close to your usual location at the bakery’s counter. his words are directed towards no one in particular, but are brittle and hang in the sweet scented air.

you look up from your place; assembling a box to have the cake ready to go after having it decorated quickly and letting your calm stare settle on the hot headed blonde, bored expression cast over well-aged features. his order had been placed at the last minute and izuku had warned you that his childhood friend was extremely impatient even when it came to the most fragile of things— but you hadn’t minded, it only meant the green haired hero would be spending more time with you during the wait.

“not long now mister kacchan— i mean lord, sorry king, dynamight...sir!” you squeak at the mean glare he sends your way, shifting his upper body so you have his full attention. your eyes shoot to deku’s face, still warm as always, inviting and safe— an apology woven into the green constellations of his own orbs. you hadn’t meant to let the old nickname slip...it was just, izuku had told you bakugou’s childhood name with an air of fondness one night when he’d stayed to help you close up while shinsou lay sick at home. the air and softness to his voice that night was something you just couldn’t forget. “it’s just chilling in the fridge for now… i’ll need it to be cool in order to add the filling between the layers, otherwise it could melt from the heat of the sponges!”

since the cake was ordered so last minute and bakugou couldn’t care less about the type, you’d gone with your grandmother’s classic strawberry victoria sponge—a cake made for any occasion, especially since he hadn’t disclosed that to you either.

bakugou’s ruby gem eyes flick over your form, up and down...up and down...most likely judging you for your chocolate smeared apron and flour dusted cheeks. he tuts, pressing a closed fist into his own, yet, scarred cheek before leaning its respective arm against the table, looking away from you and allowing your body to sag with relief. “damn nerd, been hangin’ around with the civilians way too fuckin’ often,” katsuki says gruffly as he nods his head over to you. “‘specially this one, startin’ to rub off on ‘er,”

the pair of you visibly stiffen, the box you’d been making clattering to the floor from your slippery butter hands and temporarily freeing you from the evil clutches of katsuki bakugou. the nerve of him! to put you and izuku in such a situation; you in particular, one off-handed comment like that and someone, anyone could get the wrong idea. pin-pointing you as the little civilian girl who clings way too much to everyone’s favourite and soon to be number one hero. who knew bakugou could be so upfront? had shinsou blabbed to him? you wouldn’t be surprised, your menace of a best friend usually handled affairs with the explosive pro. ducking your head, you miss the way bakugou smirks knowingly and the way red flares up against deku’s cheeks, bubbling brightly beneath his freckles and creating the illusion of stars against a pink summer’s night sky.

bakugou thought it was funny how oblivious the two of you were and if he was going to be stuck here waiting on a damn cake he sure as hell was going to make the best out of it.

composing himself with a cough to clear his throat, a slap to his rival’s stupid head and a roll of his broad shoulders— izuku picks up the conversation again at a less awkward point. “so kacchan, what’s this cake for anyway? you’re usually not one for sponges,” he asks, and you hum happily to yourself at the cheeky lilt to your crush’s tone. he wasn’t wrong however, in all the times bakugou had visited the cookie crumble bakery; he’d only ever gone for the smaller and healthier options like granola bars or oat and raisin cookies. never anything as pretty nor refined as this.

“s’not for me, y’fuckin’ shit-stick!” the blonde grunts in his own defense, heat flashing across his cheeks as izuku gives him a taste of his own medicine. not so cocky now are you lord dynamight… or whatever the hell your stupid hero name is, you muse in your mind. “s’for kirishima’s welcome home party tonight. he’s coming back from that long-ass mission abroad ‘n racoon eyes said he’d be mad if i didn’t get him a stupid fuckin’ cake for his stupid fuckin’ surprise party.”

“you don’t like surprise parties, kacchan?” deku teases, with a bright smile that you catch in all its glory— smile so high on his cheeks it almost locks away those precious forest eyes you love so much.

“no i don’t like fuckin’ surprise parties, get off my dick nerd.”

the interaction between the two heroes reminds you somewhat of a lover’s quarrel— bringing an amused grin to your cherry lips. “kirishima? as in… the red riot?” you interject without meaning to, your mind away from you as you make quick work of evenly slicing the two sponges in half, piping fresh cream from the centre of the first half — moving outwards. you follow the cream up with a layer of strawberry jam, freshly sliced strawberries and your secret ingredient— white chocolate shavings. you repeat the process smoothly after stacking one layer on top of the other, the boys watching you closely. it was probably for the best that you had interrupted them as well; as though not to disturb your afternoon round of customers. the two stop and look at you, bakugou nodding his head silently. “and you’re throwing a party for him?”

“‘course i fuckin’ am!” the explosive pro looks to you, sending a shiver of nerves down your spine— your incredulous tone having perhaps offended him slightly. or maybe it was because you’d hit a nerve like he had with you and izuku, you would know, you would recognise having a defensive stance over your harboured feelings anywhere.

“that’s sweet of you,”

“whatever,” the silence flickers between you both with bakugou’s seemingly finalising words, and deku doesn’t know if he should step in— feeling an impending explosion from his old friend. but instead, katsuki surprises you by standing from his seat, reaching your shaking form in three short strides to poke his nose in the way you begin to decorate the top layer of red riot’s cake. he points to the way you’ve swirled red food colouring into the cream icing on top, smirk evident in his voice as he speaks. “you a fan or somethin’?”

you blink, surprised, and look behind the large hero to deku, who stands rigid with a face twisted into an expression you can’t quite read. “of who? red riot?” your question earns you a grunt from bakugou. “uh, yeah, sure! ‘m a fan of all of you guys really, it’s an honour that you’re even standing here in my bakery!”

“s’not what i asked, flour girl,” bakugou prides himself in the pun, eyes trained on the delicate way your fingers move to perfect the gift to his friend. “you a fan of shitty hair or not?”

you bite your lip, lifting the hand you’d used to pipe finishing swirls of pink cream on top of the cake ( adding strawberries to each one before assembling the box around the finished piece ) and wipe your brow, thinking of an answer. “y-yeah! i guess i am!” you sigh, breathless with relief.

“then yer invited to his party, shitty hair’d like to see his fans.”

you jump back in shock, flustered that the pro hero is extending an invite to his friend’s party to some plain jane like you, and shake your head vigorously as you let bakugou heave the cake over the glass counter. “oh no,” you excuse yourself as quickly and politely as possible. “i couldn’t, partying isn't really my scene and i couldn’t intrude on something personal like that—!”

your hurried words enter one of katsuki’s ears and fly out the other, an unimpressed mask falling over his defined features. “i weren’t askin’. i was tellin’. yer invited ‘n i expect to see y’there for shitty hair. b‘sides deku’s gonna be there.” the blonde tells you like a stonewall not willing to budge an inch. you’re left with a wide open mouth, floundering like a stupid fish as the great god of explosions and dynamite or whatever the fuck it is leaves your bakery swiftly, accompanied by the swing of the bell.

you turn to deku who only plates up a sheepish grin, fingers finding the back of his neck as he rubs it gently. “i will be there,” he affirms softly, getting ready to leave as well. “it could be fun, just us two and kacchan’s raging crush on kirishima, huh?”

just us two.

“yeah,” you nod, replacing your bewildered expression with a shy smile. “i’ll meet you there, then?”

deku hums approvingly, filling your body with warmth as he approaches the door, offering you a little salute while his hand makes contact with the handle. “i’ll text you the address.”

the warmth is still there even when he’s gone and the words izuku uttered leave tears in your cotton candy heart.

just us two.

the stone path leading up to dynamight’s private neighbourhood and home crunches underneath your combat boots like praline, as you walk towards the source of his welcome home party for red riot. nerves flitter through your bloodstream too, making the fabric of your tartan dress all too tight and a little itchy against your skin.

maybe you should have changed.

the words run through your mind, but are often counteracted by the thought of how much effort you’d put into your outfit just hours before. the fabric of what you wear matches the colour of your crush’s hair— a detail you hoped that deku would notice when you met him in the party. “i look good,” you tell yourself in an attempt of self-reassurance, repeating the praise shinsou had drilled into you hours prior as he helped you to get ready. he could tell how worried you were about going to a party where every guest had some kind of celebrity status and possibly earned more than what your bakery was worth— but you deserved to be there as much as the next person; besides parties were the perfect environments to get to know your crush— apparently. especially if you could get him alone.

that piece of advice, you know hitoshi had pulled straight off of wikihow.

it’s the thought that counts, you suppose.

squeezing the box of cookies you’d caved in, making them as an extra gift, you continue to follow the bass boosted thumping of music towards what your phone told you was bakugou’s place. you’d acquired his address, in a text from your companion deku— your heart practically dropping out of your ass while you buffed out your eyeshadow, forcing your purple haired friend to answer for you. no matter how many times you’d texted izuku for orders and pick up dates, your still heart raced at the sight of the green heart emoji next to his name.

you couldn’t help but wonder if he would be excited to see you too, even though it had only been a few hours since you’d last seen each other— you couldn’t help but dream up scenarios of what your night would be like. would his trusting emerald eyes drop to the form of your outfit? would he compliment you, tell you how pretty you looked and how he was so glad that you came? would you sneak away from the crowds to a quiet room where you’d tell him ‘i like you, izuku,’ and seal the night with a gentle kiss?

it’s this train of thought that helps you reach the mansion much faster; bakugou’s lawn is littered with pro heroes and empty red solo cups alike. you’d never pegged bakugou as the type of guy to throw a party like this— the handful of times that you’d met him indicated that he preferred his own company and that of a select few...but maybe these were the lengths he’d go for someone he cared about. for kirishima.

and it made you think back to those warm forest irises and sun kissed freckles; and how much you’d be willing to do the same for izuku if he asked.

you make your way up to the front door fairly quickly after that; ringing the buzzer and taking the opportunity to peer through the glass windows on either side of the door, checking out the life of the gathering inside while you wait. it seems so fun, with booze flowing and choruses of laughter practically shaking the whole neighbourhood and you shift on your feet at the possibility of actually enjoying yourself tonight.

the door finally opens and you jump, snapping back to the person who now stands before you. a security guard stands in the spot where the door once was— clipboard in arm, dressed in all black. you don’t blame katsuki for hiring security, although they were all pro heroes and could most definitely handle themselves, too many high profile people in one place could definitely become a cesspool for villain activity.

“name and invitation.” the security guard states simply, jaw set in place and beady eyes squinting down at you from behind darkened shades. offering him a polite smile, you give him your name and watch as he flicks through what must be the guest list on his clipboard. his brow raises before speaking again. “you’re not on the list, do you have an invitation?”

“o-oh,” you stutter, brows furrowing. although you had only been invited at the last minute, you would have thought bakugou or at least midoriya would have taken care of any details like this. though, you couldn’t entirely blame them, they were pro heroes above your friends and acquaintances. “uh—can you check again? i’m a friend of izuku midoriya’s…”

recognition sparks within the security guard’s eyes but he doesn’t budge; letting the party bustle behind him. “i just checked, you’re not there.”

“wait!” you squeal as he moves to close the door, suddenly flustered by this new information. “can you just— check again? i should be there, really, i’m a friend…”

“sure you are, sweetheart.” he says rudely, flicking his gaze down to the guest list once more but barely checking through it, finding amusement in the way you sag with defeat before moving to shut the door again.

it’s with this you realise that this guy thinks you’re just another crazed fan trying to sneak into a gathering of famous people, famous heroes with a lame excuse of being their friend. you wonder how many other girls have tried this on hero security before and decide to switch to a different and hopefully more convincing approach.

shoving your foot into the door, you huff and muster up as much confidence as possible, trying not to lose your balance by hopping on one foot and holding the box of baked goods in both of your hands. “i’m the caterer, i made the desserts for the party and brought along some more. i need to check on dynamight’s cake, so if you could please just go and get him so we can clear this whole thing up!” you cry, annoyance slipping through the cracks of your tone but you try to keep your cool and hold up your box, hoping this lunatic will see the resemblance between your logo and the one on your cake box inside.

“you think no one’s tried that excuse before? you’re not on the guest list, you don’t have an invitation. now scram, punk, before i call the police.” the security guard leans down to your height, jabbing a finger into your chest and making you wobble. “you can ask dynamight yourself. in your dreams. i’m not leaving this door for you to sneak in.”

embarrassment starts to bubble under your skin as guests both inside and outside of the party start to notice your predicament— you’re putting up so much of a fight but you don’t even like parties, drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. you’d like to say you didn’t know why, but that would’ve been a giant fib. you’re still here because of your raging crush on izuku midoriya and the way he looked at you with pure excitement when you said you’d see him at the party earlier today.

so you ground yourself, ready to lay one out on the security guard when glass shattering behind him disrupts your flow. the pair of you turn your heads only to spot deku stumbling down the stairs, standing over the shattered pieces of a now broken vase. “oh fuck, kacchan’s gonna kill me,” he giggles to himself with a slight slur to the edge of his words. his beauty is like a ray of hope to this bleak situation— a tight black shirt splayed across his chest and arms, tucked into cargo pants of a matching shade. you’ve never seen him dressed so casually before, tattoos intertwining with the scars his hero costume usually hides.

you can’t help it, voice bubbling up before you can stop yourself. “izuku, hey! think you could help me out?”

“you know this chick, mr.midoriya?” the guard grunts as you make a weak attempt to step through the entryway and meet with the pro hero, forcing you to stop in your place. for a second, your eyes lock with deku’s and it feels as if electricity has started to crackle in the air. his cheeks are rosy just as they were that day in your bakery and your heart hammers in your chest just at the sight of him.

“don’t think so!” he hiccups quickly, smiling big. he’s tipsier than you thought. the world around you crumbles and you feel like a knife has been shoved straight through your chest— stopping the very organ keeping you alive from beating. from feeling. even when drunk, you’re not even memorable to the hero you’d befriended over the last two years. were you really just another civilian? like bakugou had called you back at the bakery, like the security guard thought you were? a cloud of betrayal settles above your head, laced with hurt as you back up on the doorstep. “nice outfit though! the green… ohmygod, the green reminds me of my hero costume!!”

it’s not long until deku becomes distracted by the yelling of his friends located deeper within the party and you watch him stagger away with humiliated tears welling in your eyes. “sorry kid,” the security guard hums, using his size to back you up and out of the door some more. “better luck next time.”

“right,” you say, voice shaking, hurt now twisting through your bloodstream. shifting the box in your grip you shove it towards the guard before he has a chance to lock you out of the party for good. “c-can...can you just make sure bakugou and kirishima get these? i promise… i promise ‘m just a baker,”

you walk away without giving the security guard an opportunity to mock you like you were some stupid fan— quickly making your way as far from bakugou’s house as physically possible, putting great distance between yourself and izuku. it hurts to breathe, the world falling away from you and you feel so silly. to have believed that you were something significant in the life of a pro hero, in the life of izuku midoriya himself. there were probably tonnes of people just like you in his daily routine, providing small and irrelevant acts of service to punctuate his busy days of saving lives.

you were just a baker and he was a hero. you knew that, you always knew that.

you weren’t special to him, like he was to you.

realisation and panic settle in the base of your rib cage, crawling through your lungs and sticking to your throat like webs of black tar. you can’t breathe. you have to get out, you need to go home. the dress you wear, colours of forests and ferns like izuku’s hair and eyes are a pungent reminder of the truth and suddenly feels too tight around your body. somehow you stumble out of bakugou’s gated neighbourhood and frantically search through your mini backpack for your phone; desperate to call shinsou. you could do with his comfort right now.

your best friend picks up after three rings, voice heavy with sleep when he answers. “what in fucks name do you want—?”

“toshi,” you say, holding back a fresh wave of tears just from hearing his voice over the line. “can you come...c-can you come pick me up, please?”

you hear shuffling on shinsou’s end, possibly him sitting up in his bed and adjusting his phone in his grip. “what? why? i thought you were at blasty bitch’s house party—“

“please,” you reiterate, hoping the emotion in your voice is enough to grab your best friend’s attention. you don’t want to talk about your embarrassment for the night, you don’t want to think about it either. “pleaseplease, just come get me...toshi, i wanna go home,”

“text me the address sugar, i’ll come get you.” he tells you sternly, hanging up the phone.

you wait for only twenty minutes in the cool night air before shinsou’s rust bucket rolls up outside the gated community and it takes everything you have in you not to burst into tears once again. your childhood best friend jumps out of his car; hoodie in hand to pull over your head before guiding you back with him and strapping you into your seat.

no words are exchanged as he drives you home, it’s silent when he unlocks your bakery and takes you to your apartment on the top floor. the same treatment is given as he wipes away your makeup, runs you a shower and helps you change for bed. you’re so grateful for hitoshi shinsou, you’d be sure to thank him with baked goods later on when you weren’t numb from crying.

he liked your apple danishes best, the ones without green apples.

you decide as you fall asleep, you’ll always hate the colour green.

after mixing all things dry for your cake batter; you’d usually work on the next step of wet ingredients. a sad mixture of milk and eggs and oil— grim to look at, gross to feel.

you suppose that’s what’s been resonating with you the most recently. getting over your crush on izuku has been one of the most awful experiences of your life thus far— you exaggerate but feel that it’s true. you feel sluggish more often than not, screaming your frustration and tears into your pillows before the day’s begun and you have to open up the cookie crumble bakery for business.

embarrassment, anger and sadness roll in heavy waves over your body— hitting you at the most random moments during the day whenever the party incident comes to mind, making you cringe and retreat to the back room in the middle of serving customers, often leaving shinsou to carry the brunt of your work. he understands for the most part, checking up on you when you’ve been gone for too long or he thinks that you’re crying...but his patience is wearing thin even as your best friend and exhaustion sets itself in his eyebags at a greater rate than usual. there’s only so much that he can take on to be there for you during this situation.

you just want to get over him, stupid, sunny, warm and gorgeous izuku midoriya. forget that he ever held your heart between strong hands and powerful fingers and move on with your life instead of feeling like crap for the stunt he pulled. but for some reason, you find yourself holding on to the slow treks in the evergreen woods of his eyes and his inviting smile, you cling to the moments you’d spent laughing with him over the counter and having him keep you company on late shifts.

you couldn’t let him go even if you tried, even if midoriya hadn’t called or texted you within a week of seeing him shit faced at the party.

even if he hurt you, you didn’t want to be the normal girl who let izuku midoriya pass by without another word.

“incoming at nine ‘o clock,” shinsou mutters to you as he briskly walks past your position at the counter, replenishing the breakfast muffins, and slips into the back room. you barely have time to look at him nor give him your confused frown before the little bell at the doorway goes off and someone steps into your bakery.

whipping your head over at the sound, your blood runs cold at the sight of the man who’s been avoiding you for damn near a week straight. “hey yn,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and undercut like he always does. deku looks good, sweat lining his brow and cheeks tinted pink as if he’d been out on a run and decided to swing by. your suspicions are correct when you get the scope on his outfit, plain khaki shirt and grey joggers— showing off everything he has to offer.

but you won’t allow yourself to be tempted, building walls up and around your cookie cutter heart. “mister midoriya,”

“c’mon yn, please don’t be like that,”

“‘m not being like anything izuku,” you sigh and you can see his posture sink a little as you continue your work of filling up the trays of sweets in the display cabinets. spending way too long fixing details that don’t need fixing— anything to keep your gaze away from the face of the hero who could crush your heart if he wanted to.

the hero’s mouth opens and closes as he ponders his next words— not used to the way you give him a cold shoulder. “then please don’t ignore me,” izuku says with a pleading tone and you mentally curse shinsou for leaving you alone with him, already wanting to plunge back into the swirling sea of dartmouth twinkling in his orbs. “i want to apologise to you, for the other night…and just...try to explain things,”

stopping your work, you glance up at deku and wait for him to speak. “go ahead,” you say expectantly, giving him a chance before you change your mind. part of you can’t help debating it briefly...if he’s undeserving of your forgiveness, especially after how you were treated by both him and the guard who’d humiliated you— while the other doesn’t want to be trapped in this fog of resenting izuku.

he takes a minute, taking out his headphones and pausing his running playlist, you wonder if he’d taken a run today to sort through his words, adding your bakery to his usual route. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said to you that night,” deku starts, idly fiddling with his fingers. “you know i wouldn’t ever forget you on purpose and if i had known kacchan hadn’t figured things out with your invite...if i hadn’t been so drunk either, i would have vouched or left with you. i was just so drunk that i lost my head and...hurt you in the process,”

you mull over his words as they feed at all parts of your heart, making you want to forgive izuku—and you could. you could if he knew exactly how he made you feel and acted accordingly. cracking each of your fingers in preparation to spill your guts out to deku, you take a deep breath. “you really did hurt me, izuku...you made me feel small, insignificant,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper so that your early morning guests can’t hear. “like i was unworthy of being your friend? purposefully or not it felt like you didn’t want to know me and despite how long we’d known each other...like i was just another civilian in your life. it really sucked, especially when you didn’t reach out to me after,”

there’s a beat of silence as the weight of the world lifts from your shoulders, and you already feel so much better having expressed how you truly feel.

“i’m sorry,” izuku whispers to you again, reaching over the counter to grip one of your hands. “i value your friendship so much, and hurting you, someone i care about, is one of the worst mistakes i’ve ever made. it’s no excuse for me to have been so drunk, i never get like that and so fast…wish i had a better explanation for you aside from the fact that i was nervous.”

you feel the sentiment to his words, but there’s a burning question on the tip of your tongue. “i think i can forgive you, i just need to know why’d you drink your nerves away?” you ask him light-heartedly.

izuku taps his nose, shaking his head but relief floods his veins at your willingness to accept his apology. “can’t say, it’s a secret for now.”

at that you smile, he may not be ready to tell you now but you’ve had enough of the heavy stuff to last you. just glad that muggy feeling is no longer crawling down your spine. there’s a flutter in your rib cage, like a butterfly from izuku’s forest has been set free in your body when you realise your hands are still linked and shyly pull away— both of you with flustered expressions. deku steps away from the counter, ear-splitting and a golden smile on his face as he stumbles over the nearby table, alleviation hanging in the air between you.

“i should uh, get going. i’m so sorry again,” he tells you, abashedly trying to fix the chairs and table he’d tripped over. “hero duty calls!”

“quit apologising, nerd and get outta here,” you giggle, heart squeezing at the adorable nature of your friend. although you know that despite the hiccup...your feelings for him are still there.

giving you a nod, deku quickly makes his way to the door— ready to walk out when he stops and waves to you for attention, seemingly remembering something. “oh and before i go! could i place a quick order? i need some cupcakes and other treats for a baby shower. for a girl friend of mine. i really can’t stay much longer to discuss the details! but i’ll text you?”

and then for the second time, involving the one and only izuku midoriya and the clutches of your feelings...your world breaks like shattered glass and egg shells. a girlfriend. your crush, the man you’ve been pining over… has a girlfriend. and you feel as if you’ve been pushed right back to square one. being insignificant enough to have been forgotten and not been told about izuku’s brand new relationship. what did it matter though? you were only his friend. this whole visit, this whole week apart was probably to plan a gentle way to break down the news to you. and still deku let you pine over a lost cause. you barely have time to respond to him before izuku is out of your shop and down the street— leaving you to revel in the massive blow he’s just delivered to your achy-breaky heart.

a girlfriend. someone you’ll never be for him.

“so i take it that went well?” shinsou asks you cheerily, hand on your back as he emerges from his hiding spot in the back room. he pats your shoulder once before returning to the sweet old ladies he usually waits on— without a clue of what’s just happened up front.

you stare blankly, feeling broken yet again as you look to the order text izuku has just sent you.

“yeah, it went splendidly,” you mutter weakly to yourself, clutching your chest as your heart crumbles to pieces in its place.

weeks go by and barely anything has changed.

despite apologising for hurting your feelings that night; deku’s actions fail to replicate his words and you bottle up poisonous sips of resentment towards him. you can no longer look into his eyes whenever he’s around, you stop seeing lush mint forests and fairytale land but instead stormy sage waters swirling with inner hatred. you can’t stand to look at deku knowing how much of a fool you were to think you could mean something more to him, to have fallen for him.

you throw yourself into working alongside shinsou, keeping yourself busy with baking and packing orders around the bakery. but your heart remains stung despite every cake you ice and every cookie you bake...it was hard and it didn’t help that izuku came around almost every other day thinking that your friendship would proceed on a normal level. you knew that if you lost izuku it would be your own fault; for letting your feelings get in the way of being there for someone so important to you— someone who’d taken their bare hands and forced you apart to make home in the shell of your body and your life.

he acted as if the air between you hadn’t changed and that the cells in your body weren’t trying to force him out and reject his sweetheart candy persona. how could he? when every second spent in the four walls of your bakery he was asking for another one of your specialty bakes for another special occasion for the girl of his dreams that he’d forgotten to tell you all about. a birthday, a baby shower, whatever it was that the hero needed; you baked it for him. and it could have been so easy to tell deku no, but you were too far gone in the candyland of love to say it.

and like the final stage of baking a cake was the icing, your final straw with izuku midoriya had been the wedding cake he’d asked you to make.

he was marrying this girlfriend of his that you’d never met, having a baby with this girl you’d never met.

it hadn’t taken you long to lock yourself in the back room; forcing yourself to work in izuku’s new commission for nights on end. your customers missed you, shinsou would tell you after closing up shop at eight pm and joining you in the kitchen— but there were no words, positive ones at least, that could roll over your tongue to make conversation with. your best friend worries for you, you know that, it hurts for him to not be able to console you in the way that you need— to soothe the burn left by izuku midoriya from his hot sugar grip.

you need closure and that’s why he makes the call.

for you it’s just another night; working on this stupid fucking wedding cake that makes you want to scream or burst into tears just by looking at it— makes you want to smash it to pieces as you layer sponge on top of sponge— smoothing the surfaces over with homemade cookies ‘n cream buttercream. working quietly, you don’t miss the way the doors to the back room creak open and the heavy footsteps that come with it.

“i already told you toshi,” you mumble, annoyed, letting your words twist with the still chill air. “i’m fine, i just want to get this stupid wedding cake done so i can go home and never have to see izuku midoriya again!” you feel triumphant by the end of your words, finally admitting the root of your sadness to yourself and your best friend— thinking that with this cake would come the last of your romantic woes. but something about the stillness to the room feels off, it lacks the crackle of a sarcastic comment from your best friend… something along the lines of ‘about time’ and ‘i knew it’. the words never come and the foot steps you’d heard earlier make no attempt to come closer to you.

it’s the silence that makes you look up.

and when you do, you’re met with fern hair and forest eyes and the constellations of cancer written across well aged cheeks. “izuku,” his name falls from your lips like a forbidden word and as soon as the warmth in your heart comes, it goes. you turn back to your work— focusing on crumbling more cookies to pair with your italian meringue buttercream.

“hey,” he says gently, as if what he says will break you. “shinsou called, he’s worried.”

and you care? is what you want to ask him, is what you fight with your tongue to say and swallow it down. because for weeks all izuku has done is take and take and take from you. surely he knew that he was the last person you wanted to see right now. so it’s silence that wins, that you choose and you return back to making the frosting.

deku waits for what seems like an eternity for your reply, but steps closer to your table and workstation when you don’t— sighing. “i’m kinda worried too, yanno,” are you? “...you’ve been so busy, i’ve barely seen you as of late. i just want to make sure you’re okay,” they all seem like sweet little lies, spun like cotton candy to muffle the loud noise and pain in your ear but you continue to stay silent.

reaching you, the pro hero takes a stance opposite you— looming over the other side of your work table while a heavy quietness bounces in the distance between your bodies, punctuated only by the sounds of your ingredients mixing. “i’m sorry.”

“do you even know what you’re apologising for?” you yell brokenly, finally piercing the tension flooding through the room with your butcher's knife— letting it rattle against the walls and push both you and izuku up against them. “do...do you even know what you’ve done?” the tail ends of your words are much quieter this time, and you watch as deku steps back— frightened by your outburst. remaining mute, his eyes search yours frantically for an explanation before you have to give one to him yourself. because if he doesn’t, it’ll show you that he truly doesn’t know how he hurt you and somehow; that causes a brighter pain to sting at the candied organs in your chest.

“i—“

dropping your spoon, you clap a hand over your mouth, begging the higher power that izuku doesn’t see the way your lips tremble as if you’re going to cry. “oh god,” your voice is muffled and weak, “you really don’t know… oh god i’m so stupid,” izuku doesn’t reach out for you nor does he make a move as you pull back away from the table. “you use me, get a girlfriend and keep on using me to make these little gifts and treasures for her that she’ll remember for life...when i was here, falling for you this entire time. and i thought you felt the same… i thought that you knew…i thought that you knew that i was in love with you...”

you gasp; confession to your crush out in the open before you can grab its tail and prevent it from ever coming out. all at once you feel crushed and humiliated— shooting your gaze away from the situation.

“you’re in love with me?” deku breathes steadily, but you don’t dare to look at his face for the way he might pity you.

shaking your head and blinking away salty tears, you sigh. “i think you should go back to your fiancé. i don’t know why shinsou called you. you don’t need to be here,”

“fiancé?” izuku chuckles wetly into the cool air filling the room, making you look at him. the corner of his cadmium orbs are creased with laughter lines and his lips are pulled back into a gentle grin. you feel demeaned, how could he laugh at you at such a time? “you mean ochako? oh my god…the stuff you did for me? you mean the babyshower and the wedding cake?”

“who?” you ask sternly, quickly wiping at your eyes and cheeks. “what?”

deku leans over the table to get a better look at you, frowning at your tired and puffy eyes but still looking at you with all that warmth he has for years. “ochako’s a friend from highschool, she recently got engaged to another friend of mine, iida— after finding out they were pregnant,” he explains to you softly, hoping that your sniffles calm down. “they hadn’t had the time to organise everything on their own, but i knew your bakery and its goods would go down a treat at their baby shower and wedding, so i took the liberty of ordering for them myself. they’re traditionalists, they just got everything in the wrong order.” he jokes at the end.

and just like that, the realisation clicks. “you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“no, yn,” izuku laughs again, rounding the table to grab your wrists— towering over you, with a gaze so fond as he directs it down at you. “ochako isn’t my girlfriend, nor my fiancé. i was kind of hoping someone else would want that spot,”

“that so?” your tummy churns, butterflies fluttering throughout but your body flushes with stupidity. you think back to weeks ago, when deku had asked you to make something for a girl friend of his— he had literally meant a friend who was a girl. what an idiot, you think to yourself, misreading izuku’s poor wording like that and causing all this grief.

the air shifts and you feel izuku’s familiar warmth surrounding you despite the cold in the back room. the hold he has on your wrists tightens and pulls you into the firm of his chest— not caring if you stumble. letting one of your wrists go, izuku tilts your head by your chin up to face him with just a thumb and a forefinger.

“i love you,” is what he answers you with, “you’re the one that i want,”

before you can say anything else to his confession, midoriya presses his lips against yours in a gentle chaste kiss— causing you to let out a muffled ‘mmf’of surprise. the action is sweet but all too short, with his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he pulls it back gently; giving you the choice to either kiss him or pull away. you need his lips on yours again, that insatiable hunger for sugar and dopamine driving you forward as you kiss izuku for a second time— tongue grazing over the swell of his lips, fingers tangling in the wildness of his hair to keep him close to you. deku welcomes you into his mouth with a sweet sigh, arms dropping to your waist and his large hands squeezing your hips.

your tongues work together instead of fighting, sliding across one another in a deep lover’s kiss and deku takes your lip lock as the opportunity to lift you onto the metal table— being mindful of your cake and work. “‘m sorry,” he says into your mouth, kissing you with more fever, growing handsier by the second.

“what for?” you sigh, tangling your fingers in his baby hairs— arching into all of midoriya’s touches.

one of deku’s hands moves to cup your jaw and the other to undo your apron from behind your back, making your breath hitch. “for hurting you, i didn’t wanna,” his nose brushes against yours and you can feel his peppermint breath against your cupid’s bow. “‘n i still did it...twice,”

you lean up to give a quick smooch to the pro hero before you, hands feeling out the bulk of his muscles from his shoulders to his slender waist— mapping out his body and basking in the reality that he is yours. “then ‘m sorry too, for making this situation what it was,” you breathe weakly, licking your lips nervously.

deku shakes his head, forehead resting against yours. “if it weren’t for you, i wouldn’t have gotten my shit together to tell you that i love you,”

your body vibrates at the three words. he loves you. the very sound of the syllables sets a fire alight in your lower belly and all you want to do is be close to him—press yourself against him and just feel everything that is izuku midoriya. you let him pull off your apron and push the cotton shirt you wear underneath up and over your head, his scarred hands are warm against your exposed flesh as they pinch at your sides. deku drops his lips from yours to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, some nip at your skin causing deep bruises to blossom underneath your skin— marking you in a signature of his name with midnight blue and purple ink. the others are wet, izuku’s tongue curling over spots of your flesh looking for the ones that are most sensitive.

you flinch when his heated pink muscle flicks over your pulse point, nails only just scraping the surface of your shoulders. all of a sudden, izuku clamps down with his teeth on that same area— pulling a shaky gasp close to a moan from between your plush rapturous lips. “oh? sensitive here, babydoll?” the hero asks you, darkened eyes twitching up to your face. you can only manage a nod, tilting back your head and creating more room for him to work another mark into your skin. his hair, soft and fresh-scented, tickles your neck, heightening your responsiveness to his activity at your throat. “you’re so pretty here, with my marks on your skin. wonder how pretty the rest of you looks,”

“y-you can see it, take it if you’d like,” your head tips back in offer, at his words, giving him more room to cast his claim in bruises across your neck and shoulders. his praise rattles in the base of your ribcage and disrupts your candied heart in its place, sending it into a series of flutters. “i’m yours now,” using a single knee, deku pushes your thighs apart, letting him lead your body into position… trusting izuku, you follow him willingly into the forest, just as you would with anything.

this time he catches you before you fall, with ghostly soft touches and gentle whispers— he pulls you by your thighs to the edge of the metal table until your bodies are close enough that you can lose yourself in the towering trees and lush green. you watch with innocent eyes, while the darkness takes over the woods in deku’s own, embers of lust starting to burn at the outer edges of an evergreen eutopia.

“i want you to be mine, in ways that no one else can have you,” deku tells you seriously, an expression of clement hunger smoothing over the mask of his freckled face. the forest fire burns even brighter, catching on mosses as your hands reach up to twirl with baby locks of the hero's hair. casting his gaze down, a little off to the left, deku takes a deep breath and lets his large hands slide up to the band of your bra—you choke on air tinged with the scent of him, thinking that he’ll remove it— but instead, cautious thumbs slide under the lavender and flower designed lace and rubs where your breast meets your ribs. you realise there, that the green haired hero is asking in his own way, for permission. “i’ve always wanted you but i was scared, scared to break you and make you crumble with the life that i lead,” izuku’s voice lowers an octave, growing heavier and heavier the more he lifts your bra away from your chest as if he’s weighing up the options of leading you off of the gingerbread pathway and to a place of sin.”i just don’t want to hurt you more than i already have,” he finishes, eyes fluttering shut.

cupping deku’s face now, you brush your thumbs over his stardust cheeks bringing him down low to lick the luminous orange flames of his fire— to soothe the burning and the hesitation he feels. “you can’t hurt me anymore, izu, you can take me,” you reassure him, pressing a kiss to his cupid’s bow. “we’ve waited this long, i don’t think i can last much longer without having you closer,”

that’s all he needs, all the permission izuku midoriya needs to pull you into the cracklingfire and burn any traces of you that lie unclaimed. “then let me take care of you,” izuku promises, bending to his knees in front of you, the green haired man’s hands slide warmly up the plains of your back—he traces your spine before reaching the clasp of your bra and unhooking it with ease, the material falling at your front. the emptiness of the back room does nothing to hide the beefy groan deku lets out. it could be the air or the fact that you’d managed to pull the sound from his lips that causes goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. you allow him to pull the rest of your bra away, his breath soothing the chill against your tits before bulky arms snake around your middle.

he takes one of your hardened nipples between his teeth, rolling it between them carefully as shiny green eyes shoot upwards to follow your reaction. midoriya smiles around your bud at the way your face twists; nose scrunched cutely and eyes fluttering shut as if you’ve never felt such a sensation, before a quiet mewl escapes you.”izu,” you say pleadingly, not quite sure of what you’ve asked for— your untouched body a playground for the love izuku has to offer. “gimme, more…” at your request, his tongue lolls wetly over the swell of your breast as he takes it fully into his mouth and coats your skin in a glaze of his own saliva. he can taste the vanilla on your skin, it drowns him in waves but adds a lustrous fuel to his fire.

wrapping an arm around the back of deku’s head, you draw him into the blistering heat of your frame, holding him as he suckles on your tit and starts to grope at the other— massaging the fleshy mound between his thick and scarred fingers, kneading it to coax more of your song and darling moans. there’s awe dotting the ferns of his eyes, dripping like liquid gold from his eyelashes, and when he bites down on your flesh, the point of his teeth draw shapes into your skin.

you squeak like a little nymph and izuku finds himself becoming addicted, savouring how you twitch just for him. “you taste so good, you sound like an angel,” the hero praises you, pulling away from your bruised chest and remaining connected to you only by a clear string of his own spit, “you must be an angel, there’s no way someone like you falls from heaven just for me,” he tattoos the words into the spot between your breasts with similarly wet kisses from before. “you’re my angel now, kay baby?”

you whimper, again sounding like an angel’s song. “yes ‘zu, yours,”

if izuku had been a spirit of the forest, a demon of sorts then maybe you really were the angel that he needed to calm the rustling leaves— or maybe his flames would consume you and your wings whole, causing you to fall. the scalding heat of his mouth works on your unattended breast—giving it the same loving treatment that makes you writhe against the work table, nearly knocking the frosting you had been working on away. curiously, izuku releases your nipple, one hand beginning to graze your cotton panties from underneath your uniform skirt, your last item of clothing remaining. the one by your chest dips into your cookies ‘n cream frosting, beginning to smear it over your untreated breast. it’s cold and sticky on your skin, contrasting between the temperature that rises between the two of you.

“zu, s’cold,” you mumble, starting to curl in on yourself, gripping the shoulder of his shirt tightly to ground yourself. deku hums in content, latching onto your chest again where he's painted you like a canvas with the icing and the vibrations shoot straight through your body, down to your core—a patch of damp forming at the crotch of your panties from where he’s started to rub at you in sweet circles. “w-wait izu,” you simper, tone of your voice small and precious as the pro hero squeezes your clit, tip of his finger running over the length of your clothed slit. the sensation that builds in the depths of your core, like a pressure waiting to be relieved.

pushing a finger against your entrance from over the material, izuku watches in fascination as the spot of your arousal grows darker and larger, sweet honey seeping from between your folds.”what is it, babylove?” he asks you, as puffs of his hot breath begin stimulating your sex, your hips jump up against your will— body overcome with the fire.”does it not feel good to be touched like this?”

escaping from your hold, the pro hero finally falls to his knees in front of your parted legs— pulling his working digits away from your stained panties in awe, a thick string of clear essence being the only thing that connects him to you now. “i’ve never…” you pant, heat prickling underneath your skin like a thousand tiny stings. a feeling that's foreign and painfully seated just above your abdomen, desperate to be licked and soothed by izuku and his flames. “please, i’ve never..” if he would just explore the woods of your body then maybe you could garner some relief, but only feel taunted when the pro hero swipes more of the frosting against your panties and slots his mouth against your aroused cunt, tongue darting out to suck on your juices through the sticky material.

“c’mon sweet girl, spit it out, you can tell me,” izuku coos into your slick, groaning with debauchery at your taste. his nose bumps at your sensitive clit, sending waves of bright and brand new euphoria through your body.

“i’ve never been touched like this before, izu,” you squeal out at last, letting the syllables rush out of your mouth underneath slurs of pent up saliva— not even bothering for a pause in the middle. the green haired male pulls back from the solace between your thick and doughy thighs, eyes widening with shock as he realises how much of your innocence he’s burned away through forest fires already. a thick smog of ash and lust hangs heavily in the air with the weight of your next words. “i’m a virgin…”

“you’re a...you’ve never…” he dares to ask, rubbing smooth circles into your thighs, your skirt falling back into place over your sex. the fabric does nothing to hide the saccharine scent of your puffy and potentially virgin folds, and midoriya feels himself twitch with cupidity in his pants at the thought of being the very first into your garden. visions of you opening up for him like a blossom against his forest floor makes the blood pumping through deku’s body swelter with an undying need to take you; he wants to be the first to have you break and fall apart against his fingers and cock and maybe his tongue after everything he’s put you through. he almost feels undeserving.

“no,” you turn your head away from your newfound lover abashedly, liquid shame brimming in your eyes. “t-there was only one time in college with shinsou, we only used our hands but he...he was the only one who got to...to cum…”

izuku grunts in disapproval at the thought of your sweet cunt being touched by anyone besides him— even if it had been before he’d even met you. standing once more, the pro hero cups your cheeks with his sex tainted hands and brushes away your tears, thumb slipping passed your strawberry licorice lips and forcing you to taste the mix of your essence, frosting and tears. “no need to be embarrassed babydoll,” he says, dazed and distracted by all that you are.

fuck.

you’re so pretty, so obedient sucking on his digits with hesitant doe eyes. “we can fix that, yeah?”

you nod around his thumb until it's clean and hum with anticipation. “uhuh,” you mumble, blindly trusting izuku—because he’d promised never to hurt you again, because you knew that he would take care of you.

“good girl, now let’s get you out of the rest of these clothes, babylove.” deku pulls his thumb from between your lips, chuckling at the pout that smooths over them and leans down to capture them in a kiss. his scarred hands make quick work of pulling off your skirt and peeling away your panties that stick to your sex. you shiver when cool air hits your bare cunt, crying out for something to keep you warm. izuku knows that you yearn for his fire in the woods to drag you in and take your spirit as prisoner— so he rushes to shrug off his t-shirt before uniting your bodies and wrapping one arm around your shoulders, keeping you to him, the other dipping to toy with the treasure locked between your plush thighs. “shinsou used his fingers on you, right?”

“yes,” you say breathless, drawn to deku in a similar way a moth is to a candle flame, basking in his heat. “but i didn’t get to cum,” you remind him.

only then does the green haired pro send you one of those smiles, the ones where the constellations on his cheeks shone bright... the ones that you had always believed were saved especially for you, making you feel warm inside, because now you knew that they were. “then i’ll have to show you what it’s like to have a real man’s fingers pleasuring you, angel. you’ll have to wait a few dates before you get to feel my tongue on you though, baby,” deku whispers a breath’s width away from your ear, sending shivers down your spine as the calloused tip of two of his fingers circle your soaked entrance. “give me your hand angel, let me teach you,”

you writhe nervously against the metal table, dropping your hand to join izuku’s at the entrance to your awaiting cunt and let him guide your smaller-than-his fingers to your swollen clit. rubbing smooth circles into your back, your tits pressed salaciously against his sweaty pecs, the hero instructs you to draw dainty shapes onto the puffy nub, letting you jolt in his arms and grip his flexing bicep. “hah, zu...that feels nice,” you babble clumsily, brain growing hazy as the first shocks of ecstasy filter through your bloodstream. “zu...s’supposed to feel that good?”

your question makes him wonder how innocent you really are, if it's so much so that you’d never even buried your baby fingers into your own cunt and gotten off before...maybe with the success of your bakery, you just didn’t have the time. his chest swells with pride and his cock with need at the idea of being the one to knock you down a few pegs of purity— another sinner’s smile pulling at midoriya’s bruised lips. “of course it is, little love,” he chuckles, aiding your hand in stimulating your honeyed bud faster, helping your flower to bloom, more of your arousal to gather in your pussy lips. “oooh you like that don’t you? ‘course my little angel does, so naughty. just wait until i stuff my fingers inside that darling lil hole of yours.”

“don’ wanna wait, wanna feel you inside me now,” you drawl with impatience and teary doll eyes, yet again, lifting your hips as you ink star shaped patterns onto your sex. “‘m wet for you izuku, i know that… i can take your fingers,”

the hero spreads your folds with two digits, looking eagerly with darkened chartreuse orbs as your viscous juices pour from your empty hole. “fuuck baby, you talk so dirty for someone who hasn’t been fucked before,” duku grouses erotically— far more turned on than you’d thought. “spread those thighs, that’s it...nice ‘n wide babylove, keep playing with your clit for me...so fucking pretty…” you do as he says, legs nearing the edge of the table as you roll your clit to your heart’s content, lewd sounds echoing throughout the room as deku eases a single digit past your entrance—immediatley curling it to get a feel for your velvet walls.

“ohmygod—fuck ‘zu,” comes your needy whimper, the grip you have on his bicep tightening, nails digging crescent moons into his manuka honey skin.

“yeah? you like that? how do you feel ‘bout ‘zuku giving another?” he says and pushes his lips into a mock pout while concentrating hard on making you see stars, airily asking himself more so than you as he slips another digit into your hot cunt alongside the other—scissoring them in order to stretch you open and prepare you for his cock. “grab hold of my wrist, want you to control how fast or slow i fuck this pretty little pussy with my fingers, kay?”

an answer barely escapes you aside from a weak nod— following deku's gaze to the way your sex sucks him in and covers him in all of your liquid. it’s so dirty, the way the pro hero lets you control his hand,practically riding his fingers and grinding the seat of his palm against your clit, the action dragging you through the winding trees of ecstasy. he curls them against the spongy spot deep within your walls, making your thighs twitch and eyes cross lewdly. every thrust of his fingers earns a gush from your little cunt, weeping at the stimulation.

deku thinks you’re the most precious little thing, a delicate fairy tucked away into his neck—breathing heavily, strings of saliva hooked to the roof of your mouth while you grasp and grip his body for your taking. he mumbles sweet nothings into your hairline things like ‘that too fast, sweetheart?’ or ‘tell me if it’s not enough, babylove,’ his sweet honeysuckle words sending tingles down your spine and fluttering through your sex— deku stroking you into the shape of him.

the weird feeling in your belly from earlier returns, building up in slow stacks and twisting like rope inside of you. izuku holds you to the edge for hours, or that’s what it feels like— pumping scarred digits in and out of you at an impressive speed, telling you it would feel better if he made you wait for what was to come. “so tell me, is it true that he never made you cum like this?” the pro hero’s voice drops an octave, deep and rich like expensive chocolate and he shakes off your hand around his wrist, taking control of the pace at which you’re given pleasure.

“feels weird ‘zuku,” you cry, tummy starting to burn with every push of his fingertips againstyour g-spot, relentlessly scissoring their corresponding digits inside of you every time. “s’too fast, can’t… don’t think i can hold it..!” your legs shake violently, willing to close but izuku pins one down to the table and casts his gaze to where your body meets his hand, watching eagerly for something to happen.

“let go for me now, promise it’ll feel so good,” midoriya sighs and a scream tears in the base of your throat as the rope in your tummy finally snaps and the weird pressure that had been building up finally shoots out of you— more specifically from your sticky and squelching pussy. eyes rolling to the back of your head, clear liquid spirts from your sex in streams, pooling underneath your ass and running down the length of your slit— sliding between your lower cheeks. deku doesn’t stop even though you’re overstimulated and gushing like a river, thumbing fast and random shapes into your raw clit until your stream stops flowing and finishes splattering against your thighs along with izuku’s pelvic bone and hand.

you can’t stop shaking through your release, which pools on the floor and beneath your bum, allowing deku to cradle you into his bare chest and rock you in his arms until you’re grounded. “good girl, did so well,” soft praise is not wasted on your ears as you nuzzle into his addictive, sweet and tooth rotting warmth. “my virgin baby’s a squirter, huh?” slowly but surely, the hero lets you go to take a peek between the globes of your thighs— watching your face for any signs of discomfort when he touches you. his forest hair tickles your inner thighs when he dips his head to your cunt, grunting at the overstimulation when his tongue traces your folds to clean up your orgasm— making you grip his hair harshly.

and when izuku stands up and gives your cunt a second to calm down— his lips find yours in an overheated kiss that sets your body alight for him once again. under the mint sherbet flavour on his tongue, you find yourself. like candy and rock salt laced with izuku’s taste, unlike anything that's ever graced your tastebuds before.

the kiss lasts very little before the hero pulls away, fingers twisting with the knot on the grey sweatpants that he wears. a dark spot grows on his front from his leaking tip, cock hard against his inner thigh. you frown, wondering how long deku had been like that as he tended to you. how was he able to hold back? you surely would have lost your mind in his position— while your heart feels bad for leaving him alone and unattended, what’s left of your working conscious craves to see what hides behind izuku’s waistband and your mouth waters at the very thought. before your mind can catch up with your hands, you reach for his v-cut hips and attempt to run your fingers over his prominent dick print, yanking at the grey fabric to reveal what you’ve been waiting for.

“fuck, love,” izuku hisses, letting you roll down his sweats and boxers in one go, but snatching up your hands before you can jerk him off. “wait, just wait baby…”

he places your hands on his chest, the deep green of his eyes form a stern warning of ‘no’, despite the heavy heat waves of desire that radiate off of his well-built body. drool pools on the palette of your tongue as you watch his cock slap against chocolate and carved abs, precum smearing between them and his tip an angry shade of ruby red from arousal. “but izu..wanna help you like you helped me,” your lips push into a tempting pout, accentuating the devoir in your tone.

but deku continues to shake his head, his heart beating rapidly deep within the twisting timber land of his ribcage— protected by oakwood and tree branches that only you can figure out a way through. “another time babylove, when i’ve gotten a chance to take you on a real date,” he sighs, an immodest sense of agony drawn across his features and sewn into freckles. your heart soars and beats hard in your pussy, succulent hole clenching and causing nectar to drip from your forbidden flower. izuku fists his cock with one hand as he gently pushes your body back against the cool metal table, your back arching away from the frigid feeling giving him an erotic view of the soft mountains of your chest bouncing ever so slightly.

once you lay flat on your back, the hero presses his body over yours— trapping you between the cold surface and the blazing temperature of his body as if he were the sun… accompanied by his abs rippling against your tummy and hardened shaft sliding between your scalding, drenched folds. deku’s sticky tip skims dangerously over your bud, rewarding the silent back room with a pair of overwhelmed and eager moans. both of your bodies tremble, tortured from holding back. your hand searches for deku’s in the tangled heap of firewood limbs, fingers link during the sloppy afair of your grinding sweaty bodies— and you think you might cum again, just from the quiet whimpers your lover breathes into your ear and the sensation of him pushing his hard on against your quivering sex.

“want me to put it in now, baby?” izuku coos, his words are like delicate icing against your skin but his eyes speak of carnivorous obsession when he pulls back to look at you... as if he’s going to bathe you in every sense of him and drown you through your mind, body and soul. the keen smile he gives to you when you nod a little, warms your heart, to know that he loves you this much. “s’gonna hurt a little bit, so let me know at any time if you want me to stop, you got that?” giving deku’s hand a squeeze in acknowledgement, your breathing deepens as he lines his cock up with your entrance, tapping his tip against your virgin hole before pushing against it, slipping into you with a slight resistance.

you don’t want to resist anymore, you’ve spent so long running through the woods and away from its demon that carried your feelings for izuku that you’re so tired of trying to push him out. tears, salty, begin to well in your eyes at the pain of deku’s cock breaching your walls for the first time— the weight of him burns almost uncomfortably, he’s so much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin, enough to draw blood, in order to cope as you whimper wetly. “izuku!”

“shhh babylove, i know…’m so sorry. i know,” deku tries to comfort you, hating the way you cry for reasons other than feeling good. your pretty eyes are screwed shut, locking away the gems he treasures so much. he wants to stop, he should stop— he promised to never hurt you in any way shape or form ever again, but here you are clamping down on him with this tiny and wet virgin cunt...and he feels so fucking good.

midoriya should feel guilty for liking the way your body wriggles under his in slight pain, the way you drip and feel so fucking tight around him even though he’d given you his fingers.. you’re barely even half way down him, trembling legs loose around deku’s waist while he holds his hips back from cantering all the way into you. “it’ll all feel so good in a moment, promise you sweet girl,” deku slurs, already pussy drunk as he manages to sheath another inch into you. suddenly, he perks up with an idea and his fingers that remain free lean away from your bodies and dip into your frosting—he smears it against your neck and valley between your breasts before reaching between your impossibly close bodies and rubbing some into your clit.

“izu...wh-what are you doing?” comes your small voice, a sweet melody to the sluice noises your sex makes with every trace of izuku’s fingers against your frosting covered bud. already you feel looser, velvet walls beginning to welcome his dick instead of reject it, bliss building up in your veins instead of that uncomfortable sting.

midoriya continues to play with you there, easing the burn as he puts out hurtful flames, choking on his groans with every flutter that ripples through your increasingly wet hole. “trust me, s’gonna help, doesn’t that feel better already?” with every circle drawn against you, your juices mixing with frosting, comes another inch of deku’s cock pushing against unused and ribbed walls until he’s right at the hilt, finally buried all the way inside of you. like before, izuku leaves you seated right on the edge of another orgasm, both of you stilling to revel in the way your bodies finally connect and make one whole. izuku waits for you, for the throbbing pain to fade away as your pussy adjusts to his size, pressing butterfly kisses across your face while you stop your run from the forest just to feel. “i’m going to move now, okay angel? it might hurt again,”

“c-can you make me cum, would that help?” you whisper into the chill air, hips shifting beneath deku’s as he starts to draw his own back. a non-committal ‘yes’ is uttered against your neck as he prepares to take you, tongue beginning to roll over your skin to distract you and taste the frosting that covers old love bites. you don’t know what part of your question he’s agreeing to, but you don’t care— for deku brings back the stimulation of your clit right at the same time as his cock pulls away from your selfish walls and stretched out hole. “ohmygod!” you squeal in surprise, a small orgasm washing over your body like waves on a shore, you spill honey and molasses against your gooey sexes, providing deku with the lube he needs to make love to you properly.

“god, you’re so pretty when you’re cumming for me, babydoll…” izuki tells you with a dizzy and seraphic gripe, driving his hips forward to fill you up again. his face ducks into the other spots where he’s laid frosting over your skin, its sweet vanilla flavour tangling with the salt from the light layer of sweat that coats you too. deku makes quick work of licking it up in order to distract himself, because if he sees the way your angelic face twists with newfound arousal and thrill, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard to cope. that or he’ll burst and cum before he’s even had a chance to take you to high heavens. “‘m gonna fuck you now, promise to make you feel good.”

looping your arms around the back of his neck and losing yourself in the depths of his soft dartmouth hair, your words come out as susurrant in the darkness of the back room— catching in your throat and trembling towards their end as deku sets a slow and intimate pace to his thrusts. “you could never make me feel anything other, izuku...please give me your all,” you feel his cock pulse, sheathed inside your gummy walls mid-thrust, blood rushing through your body with every passionate rock of izuku’s body into yours. he overwhelms you, the demon in the forest taking your hand and pulling you through the canopy into divine devoir, telling you with the rustling leaves and the groans of your trees, of your izuku...to accept the love and lust he has for you.

tanned skin, cut deep with scars, feels slippery, slick against yours as izuku’s cock takes the dive into your virgin heat— the heavy vein on the underside of his shaft mapping out new pleasure points inside of you and committing them to memory for the next time you make love. the next time won’t be the last, nor will any time after that, because after years of chasing, deku doesn’t plan to let you go. the words hang like mist in the air he breathes over his lips, but his body tells them better, the way he leaks and lines your inner cunt with his aroused signature is enough to say what he can’t.

so instead of speaking, he grunts and groans into your neck, between your bouncing breasts and shoulder blades as he draws on them with dollops of frosting and bites or nips, or sucks it away until blossoms of purple and darker shades form against your sweaty skin. the air around you grows humid, the scent of vanilla and cookies and sinful sex beginning to waft through it. izuku slips in and out of your puckered hole with newfound ease, the clear and gooey strings of your last orgasm clinging to his cock and your puffy pussy lips help to guide him, to follow the channel of your cunt and claim it as his own. “you’re so wet, you’re so good, takin’ a big cock like mine and all on your first try,” deku simpers between the bruising paintings he leaves against you, barely audible against the slow build of skin slapping against skin and your sexes squelching in combination. “can’t believe i’m the first to claim you, gonna be for your first for everythin’,”

although your pupils are dilated and darkened from your epic high on lust, your gaze falls onto izuku’s face and how it twists with impassioned heat, his brows furrowed with concentration while he churns up your insides and shapes your pussy into the form of his weighty girth— making it so that no one can pleasure you the way that he does and that when you look at his face, you only see constellations in the night sky of his forest, ones that tell you… you’re getting high of off sex and balls that slap against the curve of your ass. you’re high off of dopamine flooding your brain with every jam of izuku’s blunt and angry red tip against your g-spot. you’re high off of him and the love you’ve been harbouring for him all this time.

“want you to be my one ‘n only,” you tell izuku earnestly and through hiccuped mewls— your hips lifting to suck more of deku into your cunt now that you can, and the only burn that you feel is the one from his hot body, stuck to yours along with the stacks of delectation in your lower belly. all caused by izuku midoriya himself. you’re grateful that shinsou wasn’t the one to have taken this from you, that you’d steered clear of lonely one night stands and random passionate flings. because all that waiting, all that longing meant that you could share this loss with deku, to start a new path into the untouched clearing with deku.

there’s no one else you could imagine holding you like this, pumping their cock into you so hard that your juices stream from your pussy and decorate his balls, especially when his tip kisses your cervix. there’s no one else you could want, except for him. “n-no one else can have me like this,” you say, earning a stuttered breath from deku.

you feel his cock twitch from your words, curving up to press against the soft spongy spot that has your creamy cunt choking him out. “don’t...d-don’t say stuff like that while i'm inside you baby...makes it so much harder,” izuku whines with tears docking in his eyelashes. he could cry from how good your hole feels clamping down on him. the hard ruts of his hips into yours, strokes of his dick against your molten sugar, gummy walls start to slow into rough grinds— his hips moving in smooth circular motions and pelvis rubbing harshly against your clit. “you make me wanna lose control,” deku can only soothe himself by slathering another patch of frosting against your collarbones, fangs sinking into the flesh and pink muscle scooping up what he’s laid down.

“you can with me, you can do anything you want with me...jus’ wanna feel you izu,” you lament zealously, pushing against izuki’s chest until he’s leaning up right and you’re able to sit up and rest back against your palms on the metal table creaking beneath you. at this change in position, you’re both able to see the exact point at which your bodies meet and witness the sheen of creamy white that’s started to gather at the base of izuku’s cock every time it pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy mound. the pro hero can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the sight, increasing the pace of his languid rolling hips just to see the way your pussy responds before spitting onto his cock and creating more dirty deluging sounds. the slick paints his strong thighs and stains yours as izuku grabs ahold of them and pins them down to the table to keep you spread.

reaching for the ruined bowl of cookies ‘n cream icing, you dip two fingers into it and move your upper body forward until you’re close enough to drag them over midoriya’s neck and your lips are within inches of latching onto his skin. “f-fuck, sweetheart, what are you doing?” deku mutters, spit pooling on his tongue, ready to drip it onto your sexes as they slap together— the sound echoing through the empty backroom.

“wanna try to make you feel the same way i do, wanna mark you too,” you say, voice barely audible over the way he ploughs into you with new vigor, bullying and bombarding your insides, turning them to nothing but mush and sending shockwaves of delight crackling through your veins. without missing another beat, you latch onto deku’s neck and suck, attempting to paint midnight blue into his skin and lay your own claim.

teeth and tongue abuse the spot on his neck, sweat dotting the pro hero’s brow and adding to the humid bubble surrounding your bodies dancing passionately in the dead of the night. “atta girl, you’re so good to me...shit,” izuku curses into your hairline, large hands going from gripping your waist to dancing up your back so that his fingers are able to grip at the roots of your hair and force you closer to his neck to give him a hickey. the drive of his cock into your sopping pathetic pussy never lets up, making a home for itself in your raw and used sex.

when you pull back to admire the flowering roses of blue you’ve created against deku’s timbre skin, he groans basily from deep within his throat— the sound vibrating through the cavity of his chest and shooting straight down to your creaming core. “you’re gonna kill me with this cunt, sweet girl. gonna ruin me so ‘m only ever thinking of you...is that what you want?” deku practically sobs, enchanting you and tilting your head to face his so he can place a lingering and sugar coated kiss against your wet lips.

his emerald eyes are crystalline with love and lust for you, and you alone, making your tummy warm and your candy cane heart turn to liquid sugar. you can taste the saltiness of tears on your tongue as your mouths slot together perfectly but you can no longer tell whose pellucid teardrops are whose and where they’re coming from as your bodies stay tangled, moving against one another in sticky and sensual movements. “‘s all i’ve ever wanted, for you t’be mine and for me t’be yours,” you say broken down by sheer yearning for the man you’re making love to— accepting harder assails of deku’s heavy girth inside of you.

“then i’m yours, fuck everything else, my heart is yours, angel.” izuku affirms, panting avidly into your mouth as his hands drop to the globes of your ass to pull you back and forth on his dick. after one last dollop of frosting and another delphinium flower sucked into your lover’s shoulder you lean back on your elbows, and match his thrusts with jumps of your hips into his, watching as streams of your arousals seep to the table beneath your bodies. you begin to head down a winding path in the smokey woods, the wildfire from before having surrounded you until your senses are overwhelmed with one another and you’re both climbing to your peaks. “can feel you ‘bout to cum, you’re chokin’ my cock...gettin’ so fucking tight around me,”

“take me to heaven, izuku,” you plead him with glass stained eyes, taking in his rosy star cheeks and his handsome face— a matched expression of craving scrawled across it. “wanna cum on your cock for the first time,” you clamp down hard on deku, pulling small ropes of precum from his tip while you chase him into the blinding white flames— coaxing him to take all of your body as you offer it up to him. you want him to cum, to be the only cause of his pleasure from here on out. “wanna feel everythin’ with you...”

pushing you to lay back, deku cages your body against the table, letting it rock from the sheer force of his hips ploughing into yours as his angry cockhead bares down hard against your cervix. his golden arms flex as they hook beneath your thighs, to drag you up to meet his unforgiving pace and izuku presses his forehead to yours, emerald stone eyes shining with tears beneath artificial white light before he speaks “i can’t— fuck, baby… i can’t hold back...need to cum soon, i can’t fucking hold back when i’m with you,” he stumbles over everything that he says, lips slipping over yours in slow and lazy motions unlike how he pounds into you. midoriya cups your head with one hand, pulling you flush against him and the other descends the planes of your flesh to toy with your clit once more. “i love you so much, you know that right? fuckin’ love you…”

“you love me?” you ask him in a moan, though you already know the answer. you also know that hearing him say it may push you over the edge for the final time. “please say you love me— f-fuck…say you love me, zu,”

brushing a thumb over your left cheek with the hand that cups your head, izuku offers you one of his warm smiles— reminding you of all the reasons you fell for him, reminding you of the sanctuary of your bakery and all the nights in it that you’ve shared. “i love you angel,” he whispers, slipping his lips against yours for one final kiss before the earth beneath you shatters and the gates of heaven open just for you; his tongue grazes yours in the heat of your mouth as his dick brushes up against your g-spot, launching you into your high. you cum hard, the life in your lungs swept away from you as every single one of your neurons fire at once. you moan loud, the sound swallowed by midoriya while his stuttering thrusts guide you through your orgasm— release gushing out of your hole and staining his tummy and pelvis.

you’re still coming around when izuku falls into his own high, his pretty green eyes locked away as they screw shut— whimpers coating his lips like glaze as your spasming cunt leads the way through his orgasm. “cum for me zu, love you s’much...keep comin’ for me,” you coo to him sleepily, love flooding your veins as he humps you desperately and pulls out at the last minute to paint your soft tummy with his potent white seed; letting it slick the spot where your abdomens meet while his cock twitches and softens between you.

silence lays thick in the air aside from your laboured breathing and the soft smooches the pair of you give to one another. izuku chuckles breathily into your neck, using his arms to pull away and hover above you. “it’s about time, huh?’ he says, kissing your nose with a lovestruck grin.

“mhm,” you nod, reaching up to brush your thumbs over his freckles, memorising every one of his details to convince yourself that everything is real and that pro hero izuku midoriya really does love you, the clumsy little baker girl. “it only took us two years, a couple thousand of my bakes and a bowl of frosting.”

“but i wouldn’t have had it any other way,” izuku tells you fondly, finally pulling off of you and helping you to sit up. he’s about to scoop you into his arms and take you up to your apartment above the bakery so that the pair of you can shower and rest; when his phone goes off from somewhere in his discarded sweatpants. locating it and bringing it over to you along with his shirt, he lets you slip on the material and lean over his shoulder to read the text alert— which makes his face flush with red and causes you to burst out laughing.

— INCOMING TEXT FROM HITOSHI SHINSOU:

are you guys done yet? midoriya i know i sent you over to fix my best friend but fucking her a floor below me isn’t exactly what i meant. whatever, just make sure you fuckin’ sanitise my kitchen before opening hours tomorrow. losers.

3K notes · View notes

jeonggukkiepabo · 4 years

Text

HWASAN [MYG] 🐉

SUMMARY: Yoongi, the only dragon hybrid to exist, has done a lot to escape the life he has been put into. He killed those who held him just to run away, to have the chance of living a life he’s been longing to have for years. Even after switching continents, they seem to be after him, hunting him. When he meets you, he knows you’re one of them and there’s only one way to survive - to kill you.

GENRE: smut 🐉 angst 🐉 action 🐉 fluff-ish

WORD COUNT: 11k

WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, mentions of murder and blood, violence, Yoongi rides a motorbike, cursing, blowjobs, fingering, Yoongi has claws and fangs, temperature play, his cum tastes different, choking, fighting for dominance, unprotected sex, breeding kink, Yoongi is stubborn but soft, fox hybrid!taehyung and i’m so soft for him

AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is finally here, my part of The Hybrid Collab! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to post this after months of planning. I think everyone agrees with me that the thought of Dragon!Yoongi is too much to handle. I had this idea in my mind for as long as Daechwita has been around now-it just took me a while to write it sksks.

I’d also love to thank @spicykoreantatertots & @yeojaa for betaing this fic and helping me with it. @kimtaehyunq Mags, tysm for designing this beautiful banner for me! Also; thanks for listening to my rambling and keeping up with me and this fic. It was so much fun cooperating your Taehyung into it, I love him. :(

NOW LET’S GET STARTED.

Running was all Yoongi had done for months now. Running away from those he killed. Running away from those who wanted him to get killed. Running away from those that held him ever since he was little, that taught him how to fight and kill. Running away from those that made him a murderer. Running away from Kkangpae.

Yoongi hates running (especially running away), but he had no other choice. He had to leave his home country behind and never go back, finding himself a new place to live instead. He should feel guilty, he regretted all his actions but by now, he only feels relief.

Kkangpae treated him like a fucking animal, like a worthless pet. He wasn’t treated like any human being should be treated; he didn’t even have a real bed.

All because Yoongi was a dragon hybrid, the rarest hybrid species on earth.

The lack of volcanoes in South Korea were the reason why Yoongi was highly valuable to the Kkangpae, because active volcanoes were one of the requirements for dragons to get born. As far as Yoongi knows, there’s only one volcano in South Korea: Ch’uga-ryong, a volcano that hasn’t been active for around five hundred years.

Around that time, the dragon species became extinct due to a natural disaster that Yoongi didn’t know anything about - because he was still sleeping peacefully in his comfortable egg, buried deep beneath the lava.

Yoongi’s mother, a purebred dragon, died during the catastrophe, and she was not able to protect the egg. Because of this, his body was not able to develop the way it should have. His egg was found hundreds of years later by scientists. They used newly invented technology to develop the preserved egg and mix human genes into it. Shortly after that process was complete, Yoongi hatched.

Yoongi has never met another dragon hybrid in his life. Maybe he was the only one in existence, maybe other scientists created them the same way as he was created. Even if they existed, they’re probably held the same way he was held - captured by some sort of underground gang and treated like shit.

Yoongi hated it, hated the way he wasn’t even a real creature, that he was built instead of born and that he was sold to Kkangpae to be their guard dog. Even though he was a dragon, well he was supposed to be a dragon, those fucking scientists pulled some weird Jurassic Park shit on him. Did humans even believe in dragons? To most of them he was nothing more than a myth, some creature from a fairytale.

Yoongi almost screams in frustration as his memories hit him once again. The night he decided to end it all, to kill everyone he finds comes back into his vision almost every time he closes his eyes. Because hell, he was a great fighter, the best assassin anyone could ever train and he never failed an attempt of murder. Ever since then, his nights are based on either nightmares or hectic rides on his bike, this is why he lives on coffee and energy drinks even though they're too sweet for his taste, they keep him awake. If he stops to sleep, the memories, the dreams will return in full force.

During that time, Yoongi tries not to stop in motels because:

1. he can’t afford them

2. he shouldn’t waste time on sleep if he can spend them driving down the highway on his motorcycle instead, getting as much distance between South Korea and himself as quickly as possible.

As a dragon hybrid, Yoongi has several magic powers that typical hybrids don’t have, simply because his body doesn’t work like other hybrid bodies; he is born a dragon. Most of his genetics are dragon-like even though he’s now trapped inside a mostly human body. The only features that give off his inhuman origin are his eyes, green and purple irises, swirling around like lava, never resting. Some scales are splattered around his skin, but almost all of them are well hidden under his clothes - and Yoongi is glad that he can hide that feature because of the weird looks he would get if he had scales on his face or hands; no thanks.

That, and the fact that he can extend claws from his “normal” fingernails, which is quite useful in fights… and during other situations.

One of Yoongi’s biggest advantages is the ability of changing his body temperature to the extreme - whether it’s hot or cold. If he wanted to burn you, he could; if he wanted to feel cold as ice, he could do that as well. He used that power a lot back when he was a little dragon, not wanting to be touched by humans that didn’t have his trust - not that any human has ever earned his trust - so he easily increased his body temperature until those who touched him left with blisters all over their hands.

People always think that dragons have the ability to spit fire, but apparently dragon hybrids can't. All Yoongi was able to do was spit acidic saliva with the ability to burn through all kinds of fabric and material (he even melted a spoon once because he hated the soup he had to eat) and whenever he was really angry, smoke would blow right out of his nostrils.

Kkangpae should’ve known better than to train him until he was invincible. Until he was stronger than them, until he was able to ruin them one by one.

It didn’t even take Yoongi an entire night to kill those who had held him his entire life, which made him Kkangpae’s enemy number one. He obviously didn’t get to kill each member, but he managed to ruin the leftovers by killing their boss, his wife and brother. The golden three, no longer golden anymore.

Which meant one thing: running away. Leaving South Korea with nothing but his motorcycle and never, ever, coming back. Yoongi doesn’t know if he will ever get to settle down somewhere or even where to go next, he just knows that he will never be able to come back to where he originated.

He has been in the United States for almost three months now, after secretly hitching a ride on a very disgusting container ship. In the beginning, he didn’t know where his adventure would bring him, but he has seen some beautiful places here. Yoongi even visits some of the biggest volcanoes in the country (he hates the volcanic mountains in Alaska, though, because the air outside is colder than what he is used to and Yoongi hates the feeling of icy air after a nice long nap in the comfortable lava) to spend some time relaxing his sore muscles. He just left his favorite volcano ever, the Yellowstone in the Rocky Mountains, a week ago and he really misses napping there, but if Kkangpae would ever look for him in the US, volcanoes would probably be an obvious spot to check for a dragon hybrid.

Now Yoongi is here in a cute little suburb that he doesn't even know the name of. Small droplets of rain are blocking the view from his motorcycle helmet and his gas tank is on low, so he decides to stop by the next available gas station and grab some hot coffee on his way to the bordering highway.

Yoongi didn't bring a crazy amount of baggage from Korea, because it's obviously difficult to ride a motorbike with an abundance of luggage. Instead he sticks to a simple black backpack with some clothes, money that he stole from Kkangpae, his phone, and an old notebook he uses to scribble down places he’s heard of during his trip.

Even though the gas station is quite empty, Yoongi acts out of instinct and pulls his cap lower into his face, hiding his shimmering eyes and starts to fuel his tank, looking around to check if someone has recognized him. Nobody catches his attention, until a girl on another motorbike stops to get some gas as well. Yoongi scrunches his nose, thinking that his bike was the only one in a suburb like this - because to be honest, he spent a lot of money on it, on spraying it matte black (instead of the bright teal it had before he ran away) and a bigger engine. It isn’t one of the luxurious Korean brands, but a MV Agusta F4 LH44, an expensive ass bike that Kkangpae gave him for jobs out of their area.

This girl though, she rides a fucking Kawasaki Ninja, one of the fastest - and most expensive - bikes out there. He only has eyes for her machine, but once she pulls off her helmet letting her messy hair fall over her back and turns around to the gas pump, he inhales sharply.

She’s Korean. She’s fucking Korean and she rides a fucking expensive bike.

To Yoongi it can only mean one thing: Kkangpae. But, would they really send a girl after him, a powerful dragon hybrid? Probably not. The girl hums some unknown melody as she fuels her bike, looking around as well. Yoongi makes sure that she doesn’t catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turns around to pay.

But the girl is right behind him, he can feel her body temperature on his sensitive skin and as he walks past her, he can smell something vaguely familiar. That’s when he decides to pull off a classic Joe Goldberg, waiting for the girl some streets down the road and follows her as inconspicuously as possible.

The girl comes to a quicker halt than Yoongi is expecting - simply because he didn’t like to stop more often than necessary -, but he’s quick to park his bike and follow the girl into the establishment she walks in. Bread, Sweets and Treats, says the small sign and Yoongi cringes. Who would come up with such a name? Is the owner inspired by this one Korean band that has a track with a similar name? Yoongi shakes his head to get rid of the distracting thought, instead putting his cap back on and stepping into the café.

She is nowhere to be seen, probably sitting in some booth further back, but as soon as Yoongi attempts to stride through the café, the girl behind the counter smiles at him.

“Hi, I’m Yura! What can I get you?”

He really wants to reply with “nothing.” But the smell of coffee lingers in his nose and who would Yoongi be to decline such a chance? “Just one regular coffee, black, please.”

He pays quickly, just slapping some notes onto the counter as he looks around once more.

“There’s a few empty tables in the back, go and sit down, relax a bit and I will be there with your coffee as soon as possible!”

That finally gives Yoongi the chance he’s been waiting for, strolling through the café to find the mysterious girl and once he has an eye on her, he sits down three tables to her right. She’s on her phone, taking sips of some hot beverage but takes nervous looks around the café from time to time and Yoongi wonders if she has seen him as well.

“Your coffee!” The barista smiles at Yoongi and places the hot mug in front of him. “Are you sure that you don’t want anything else? You look quite tired and I bet some pastries can help with that!”

Yoongi tries to crack a smile, but he knows people are most likely afraid once they lock eyes with him, but it seems like that his eyes aren’t anything that scares the friendly girl as he mutters a soft “I’m fine, thank you.”

He dares to take another look to his left, a silent gasp leaving his lips. There, on her right arm, is a tattoo of a dragon crawling up to her elbow. The symbol of Kkangpae, inked right into her skin. Yoongi’s assumptions were correct, she is one of those bastards and the only reason she’s here must be to kill him. But Yoongi isn’t one to have that, he’ll be quicker.

Patience is key, he reminds himself as he slowly sips his coffee, keeping an eye on that girl as he thinks about that one night again.

Things happen quickly then, the girl stands up and leaves to go to the restroom, but as soon as Yoongi plans to follow her, an elderly lady goes in there as well.

He sighs, pulling off his cap just to run his hands through his hair before quickly putting it back on, covering his eyes as much as possible. The hunter's knife in his boots feels heavy, ready to be used, but Yoongi doesn’t want to make a scene right here. It would cause more trouble than being effective - and he couldn’t find out more about Kkangpae’s plans in the middle of a café. On the other hand, Yoongi can’t risk losing her, that’s why he acts out of instinct once she comes back from the bathroom.

She makes her way past his table, Yoongi stands up quickly to follow her - and once she’s near the exit, he jumps onto her, slamming his full body weight against her smaller frame and smashes her into one of the tables, the wood breaking under their combined weights. His claws are out and he can feel his skin burning up during his rage as he snarls a low, “What’s your name? What are you doing here and where are the others?” at her.

She must be a tough one though, because even if she’s scared, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she glares up at him. “Why would I tell someone that attacks me in the middle of a coffee shop my name? Fuck, get off of me, you freak! What even are you?”

Yoongi smirks, pushing her even further into the remains of the table. “Min Yoongi, I think I ruined a bit of your family business.”

Now, her eyes widen in shock as she tries to get out of his burning grip around her throat once more. “You don’t have to kill me”, she whispers. “I don’t belong to them. Not anymore. After you killed my father and my uncle, I knew it would be the best to get out of it as well, trust me!”

Yoongi laughs, head thrown back - and it looks kind of funny, because there’s a little cloud of smoke coming out of his nose - before looking back down at her. “I’ve learned one thing in my life and that’s to never trust anyone. Especially not when they’re wearing that cute little dragon tattoo on their arm. Sorry, but I guess you have to die too.”

An annoyingly high-pitched scream causes Yoongi to lose his guard for one second, giving the girl the chance she needs to break free from his grip. "Stop it, please," one of the baristas pleads, trying to calm some of the nervous customers down. Yoongi looks at him for a second, smirking as he sees the obvious features only mouse hybrids have.

The dragon hybrid snarls, showing off some of his sharper teeth as he grips his target again. "Don't you dare make a scene, mousey. It's been a while since I had one of your ancestors for lunch, you know? And I haven't eaten in quite some time." Then, he turns around to the girl. "I'm sorry love, but this situation is getting a bit out of hand." He uses his foot on her chest to keep her in place as he grabs his favorite knife that's been sitting in his boot the entire trip, just waiting to be finally used.

Fate isn't on Yoongi's side today as another one of the baristas yells at him, running past some other tables to get to where Yoongi is standing. Yoongi groans, pressing the heel of his foot deeper into the girl's chest. "You stay there, little one, okay?" She doesn't answer, just grits her teeth to compensate for the ache in her body. The mouse hybrid freezes on the spot, staring at the scene in front of him. Then, Yoongi turns around to the new voice. "What do you want now, I'm busy and I really need to go after this, so would you let me do my job, please?" The irritation isn’t easy to miss, but Yoongi's patience has always been rather low and he prefers to get over this before the rest of Kkangpae arrives as well. "I don't belong to them anymore, fucking hell!" The girl yells once more, nails digging into Yoongi's jeans-clad calf.

“I’m the manager,” the other barista slash manager says, “You have two seconds before I call the police. Get the hell –“ Yoongi gets ready to leave yet another snarky remark as a rather lean looking guy pushes her behind his frame.

“I’ve heard rumors about your existence, I was skeptical about it – but anything is possible from where you came from.”

Yoongi’s eyes scan the stranger, thinking about how high his chances are to win another fight when he realizes that he’s one of the rarest hybrid breeds, not a regular fox but a canadian marble fox - which are often held for their beautiful fur. He has been living with one of those in the Kkangpae mansion, the fox hybrid was more likely the opposite of Yoongi’s reason to be there: Yoongi was being held to fight, the fox was a lapdog, bought to look pretty in the leader's wife's lap.

The man in front of him has similar ears, grey with black tips and his amber eyes remind him of the old fox as well. Yoongi tilts his head in visible confusion as he locks eyes with the man.

“I’m not one of them, my name’s Y/N! I’ve heard that you killed my father, my uncle and his wife so I used the chance and ran off, I didn’t know I’d see you here as well, Yoongi! Please, just fucking listen!”, the girl, Y/N, pleads with tears brimming in her eyes.

“Yoongi, is it? Listen. You can’t do that here, I know what you did to those who held you, but this isn’t the right place!”, the fox hybrid chimes in again. Yoongi’s head moves up and down, he doesn’t know who he should listen to, but he came for this one mission: killing Y/N.

“Shut up, all of you!” He screams out of frustration, the knife starting to melt in his hands because of the unbearable heat radiating from his body. Yoongi drops the now useless weapon to the floor, the weight of his boot no longer suffocating the girl beneath him. She coughs a few times, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible, trying to relax her wildly beating heart, but Yoongi doesn’t care about her right now. Instead, he locks eyes with the fox hybrid. “Who are you?” His voice is low, quiet, actually, because Yoongi doesn’t trust it enough to speak up.

“I’m from the Kim lineage”, the hybrid says with raised hands, probably to prove that he’s no danger to Yoongi. “Trust me, I know a lot about our individual histories.” Yoongi breathes through his nose, another tiny cloud of smoke leaving his nostrils as he finally steps back from Y/N. “Kim, as in Kim Jiho? That can’t be it. You’re related to him?”

He eyes the other man skeptically, not really sure whether to believe him or not. He doesn’t even look at Y/N who’s been standing but not running away yet.

The other hybrid's answer shocks Yoongi, his eyes widening as he sees the frown on his face, combined with soft ears flopping down sadly. "That's my father."

The woman behind the Kim hybrid whispers something into his ear, causing the man to nod as he looks back at Yoongi, but aIso at Y/N. "Let's just take this outside, we can talk out there."

Yoongi's eyes flicker between the hybrid and Y/N, then he nods slowly whilst pressing out a low "fine". Just as Y/N starts walking past him he grabs her wrist and pulls her closer, whispering into her ear. "If you try to run off, I'll be right behind you, ready to rip your guts out." As if to prove his point, Yoongi heats his skin up once again, burning Y/N's wrist before smiling sweetly at her and following the fox hybrid out of the café.

The hybrid, who introduces himself as Kim Taehyung, offers refuge to Yoongi and Y/N at his secret bunker in the nearby mountains. He uses the space to hide during emergencies. It isn’t anything special, it is a literal fox burrow with furniture which totally confirms the impression Yoongi has on Taehyung’s style: simple, yet elegant.

Yoongi is even allowed to eat some of Taehyung’s self grown variety of exotic fruits that he is extremely proud of. He smugly offers a dragon fruit to Yoongi who only raises his brows, a challenging glint to his eyes as he grabs some of the lychees instead and pops them into his mouth. “But you’re supposed to peel them!”, Taehyung screeches, his furry ears twitching in disgust, but Yoongi only smiles and eats one more, swallowing the entire fruit just to see Taehyung’s reaction once more.

“My saliva is acidic, I don’t need to peel them. I’ve been eating worse things, trust me.”

After Taehyung shows Yoongi and Y/N around the bunker (it even included a shower and a functional bedroom), he decides to call it a night and leave the two alone (not without them promising Taehyung to not kill each other, he would “check in the next day” to make sure of it) and heads over to his own little cabin nearby. Once Taehyung leaves, Yoongi pulls Y/N onto the worn out couch to actually sit down and talk.

“Okay, so you say you’re running away from Kkangpae too, right? Why?” Yoongi raises the eyebrow that was cut through by that ugly scar.

Y/N swallows, trying not to stare at Yoongi’s distracting eyes. “I was born into it, I didn’t choose that life, Yoongi. Just like you I was just a part of their game. I’ve seen people die since I was a kid. I’ve never been allowed to have friends or sleep somewhere else because my father was too ‘worried’ something could happen to me. That’s why one of his coaches trained me in different kinds of martial arts from the time I was able to walk.”

She looks at the hybrid again, shaking her head in disgust.

“Of course I knew what was going on with them, why they were behaving like that and I knew that my father and uncle were the leaders, so there wasn’t any chance for me to get away from it. I tried, really, but once I found out that they got killed... I didn’t know you did it, because the second I heard it, I ran. You can trust me, Yoongi, even though my last name might be occupied by all your prejudices.”

Yoongi listens the entire time, not interrupting her as he tries to understand what she was saying. “I’ve seen you when you were a teen”, he mumbles. “I age differently than humans, but I think you were just around 15 years old when you kicked that one security guy in the balls. That was kind of badass, not gonna lie,” Yoongi smirks at her, eyes glistering mischievously. Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “He liked my dress way too much. One more reason not to wear those weird things at all.” Yoongi hums. “I bet you look great in those, but I do like your leather pants too. Anyways, what leads you to the US? It’s not the most… unusual choice to run away to. Wouldn't a country like Greece or Egypt be better? They must be looking after you too. I tried hiding in volcanoes but it was too obvious.”

The girl shrugs her shoulders, shivering now that the evening starts to settle in. “I don’t know, to be honest. All those countries sound nice and fun, but I don’t speak their language. America is huge, too. I wasn’t planning on staying in this town, but now that I met you, I mean… We could run off together, maybe? I can fight and I know how to use a gun and I’ve heard of your… powers, too. You might know how they fight, but I know how they think. Us teaming up would be useful.” She shuffles around, unsure about how Yoongi would react.

“Are you cold?”

“What?”

This wasn’t the reaction Y/N was waiting for. “Are you cold? You’re shivering. I’ve never used my powers in this way, but maybe I could help you,”

Yoongi shrugs as he slowly touches her arm and attempts to heat up his own skin in a way that wouldn’t hurt the girl. Y/N flinches at first, but the temperature heating up her body is too comfortable to deny.

“Oh god, this is amazing,” she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes. “I haven’t been this comfortable in a while.”

Yoongi nods, he understands that. The bunker is the first place he might be able to actually sleep. “I’ve been sleeping in volcanoes, like I said, but I haven’t really slept since I left the last one. Not that anyone could come in it and try to kill me, but after two days of sleeping and soaking in lava, it got boring.”

“I wouldn’t even mind bathing in lava as long as it’s this comfortable”, Y/N whispers as she drifts off into a deep slumber.

Once she’s asleep, Yoongi removes his hand slowly and looks around to find a comforter to throw over her relaxed body. Then he decides that he finally deserves the luxury of a real shower, with real hot water (that he heats up even more), before snuggling into the bed and closing his eyes for at least a few hours.

The next few days went by like nothing, Yoongi and Y/N weren’t really ready to go outside and face the world, so they stay inside the bunker to plan their getaway. They go out twice, practicing their fighting skills and helping Taehyung to pick some fruits (because Yoongi felt bad, he ate the entire mango stash in one night).

This evening, Yoongi prepares some food that he finds in the cupboards, some pasta and a canned sauce that he heats up in his hands, not bothering to put it onto the stove. He’s at the point where he decides that Y/N deserves his trust, that she won’t kill him and he’s pleasantly surprised to have someone like that in his life.

Y/N steps out of the shower, towel wrapping around her delicate body as Yoongi plates the food on the makeshift table.

“I swear to you, my muscles are still sore from your training yesterday!” She huffs as she searches her backpack for fresh clothes. “Can I grab one of your shirts? One of us has to do laundry tomorrow, I’m going to ask Taehyung how he’s doing it when he’s out here. But for now, I need something comfortable because I can’t squeeze my tired body in leather pants and a tight tank. So, please, Yoongi?” Y/N smiles her sweetest smile, causing Yoongi to groan out, defeated.

“And what am I supposed to wear tomorrow? My old stinky one that I sweat into during training?” He raises the scarred eyebrow at her as he sits down in front of his own plate, starting to eat already.

Y/N pouts as she grabs one of his last clean shirts and runs into the bathroom. When she comes back, she’s wearing that shirt - and only that shirt. Yoongi almost drops his fork.

It’s not like those movies where the girlfriend wears her boyfriend’s shirt and it looks cute and stops above her knee, no. Yoongi isn’t the tallest, Y/N’s actually almost the same height as him - with more curves than Yoongi's lanky body. Instead, his ‘oversized’ shirt ends just a bit below her ass. Yoongi would bet that if she bends down, her entire peach would be on full view for him.

“Aren’t you going to wear any pants?” Yoongi mutters. To be honest, he hopes she won’t opt for pants because… he’s just a man and even his dragon instincts think about sex from time to time.

“Is it bothering you?” Y/N asks as she plops down besides him, starting to eat right away as well.

There isn’t much space between them and Yoongi can see her hardening nipples under the shirt that once belonged to him. He shrugs. “Nah, but don’t come ask me to heat you up just because you’re freezing your ass off again.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Would it bother you? Heating me up?”

“Probably.”

Y/N pouts and turns away slightly after she throws a blanket over her legs, continuing to eat her pasta. “How long are we going to stay here? We planned to leave for Italy, but when? It’s getting colder each day and I don’t like that winter’s coming.”

Yoongi stands up to go and wash his plate, not sure about the answer to Y/N’s question.

“There’s nothing holding us here. We could go and leave tomorrow, but we could also stay for a few more days, try to get enough sleep and take advantage of this bunker. I mean, would we get the chance to have such a perfect hideout again? Let’s use this opportunity for as long as we can.”

Inside, Yoongi knows that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wasn’t ready to face the world, not ready to be on the run again. “How much money did you take with you? Wherever we decide to stop by next, we should think about a way to earn money.”

“I left with my card and packed some money from the family’s safe before I realized it isn’t that smart to run away with my credit card that could be tracked. I withdrew some more money and gave the card to a homeless lady,” Y/N shrugs as she dries the plate Yoongi has washed before placing it back into the cupboard. “I think I still have around 10 grand in my backpack, I really don’t know. I didn’t need a lot of money, most of it was needed for gas and coffee.”

“You’ve been travelling with 10 thousand in cash? That’s kinda stupid. What are going to do if someone tries to rob you? Ugh,” Yoongi can feel the smoke leaving his nostril as he paces through the room, feeling restless out of sudden.

Y/N giggles. “Are you worried? Min Yoongi, the baddest dragon alive is worried about a girl that grew up with Kkangpae and definitely knows how to protect herself.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose, already feeling his skin heat up - but not in the magical way he’s used to. Nope. Min Yoongi is being shy.

“You are worried! How cute! Are you sure you’re a dragon and not just a little lizard? One of those that live in the fields and kids go and pick them up to have them as a pet in some shoeboxes?” Y/N steps closer, gently bumping her hip against Yoongi’s before patting his head with a giggle. “Who knew that the bad boy that’s one of the most powerful human beings is getting soft over a girl.”

Enough’s enough. Even though Yoongi never had the chance to fall in love, to be in a relationship or build a real friendship, he has had more than enough experience in other things, having shared ruts and heats with countless other hybrids that has some sort of place in Kkangpae. He turns around, his instincts taking over him.

Puffing out his chest a bit, standing completely straight so he will hover over Y/N, Yoongi steps forward, breath fanning over her face. “Did you just call me a fucking lizard?”

His eyes are going wild right now, the purple and green swirling around even faster than the usual soft flow of colors. He growls, stretching his neck from side to side as he starts to feel his fangs growing, soon poking out of his lips.

Y/N smirks, tilting her head to the side, looking up innocently at the fuming dragon in front of her. “Too bad you can’t change forms, huh?” She doesn’t even get to add another snarky comment to her sentence as Yoongi’s body presses her against the rough wall, his shirt sliding up her body as he cages her in.

“You’re acting like an ungrateful bitch, Y/N. Even got to wear my shirt like you’re someone that actually means something to me, yet you’re being bratty and annoying. I don’t hesitate to get rid of people that act up on me, you should know that by now.”

His hot breath fans her face and Y/N tries her best not to squirm under his intense glare. Then, she smirks. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

“Mhhm, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Still, you’re being bratty and I don’t appreciate such behavior.” Yoongi looks at Y/N, eyes still intimidating her.

“What are you going to do about it? Spank me?” She laughs, knowing that situations like this only happen in those new adult novels, not during an escape.

“I should, but maybe you won’t be able to keep up with it. In the end, you’re just human whilst I’m nothing more than a cute little lizard, huh?” Yoongi looks at his hands, claws forming where his fingernails once were. “I don’t remember lizards being able to hurt you, though. Wanna try?” His smirk is dangerous, but so alluring that Y/N just nods, not knowing what the night will bring for her.

Once they move to the makeshift bedroom, Y/N’s knees start to get weak. Yoongi feels the change in her aura, smirking to himself as he stops right behind her, hot breath blowing on her neck.

“Is there anything you don’t like, Bambi?” His fangs gently poke the juncture of her neck, not enough to actually draw blood but to make her twist under his touch.

“I don’t think so, I mean… I guess I like… Yoongi, can you stop that for a second, please?” She turns around in his grip, cheeks blushing and lips parted. Yoongi cooes.

“This turned on already? Can’t even form sentences? Alright, I’ll sit down then and you’re going to tell me what I’m allowed to do to you,” Yoongi smirks as he slumps on the mattress, manspreading to give Y/N the best view of the bulge in his pants.

Y/N rolls her eyes and sinks down between his legs, a dangerous smirk now lingering on her lips. “Maybe I’ll just show you what I like and you can take over from that? Figured you’d be one that prefers to be in control. I’ll go by the traffic light system if I’m not okay with anything - or I’ll kick you in the balls, so don’t worry.”

Yoongi doesn’t even bother to answer as Y/N presses her mouth against his clothed dick to kiss it lightly. His hips buck slightly as she wraps her lips around him and starts sucking on the side of his bulge through the fabric. She smiles as his cock grows harder under her lips, but Yoongi is quick to pull her off. “I really appreciate your effort but are you down there to drool all over my pants or are you going to suck me off? I promise you my dick is human, not one of a lizard.”

She pouts, playing with the hem of his joggers. “Where’s the fun in that? But fine,” Y/N rolls her eyes and pulls them down slowly, her nails gently scratching the skin of his stomach while doing so. As the waistband of his pants go past his cock, she is not even surprised that Yoongi isn’t wearing any boxers underneath them.

“Predictable,” she mutters mostly to herself, but Yoongi grabs a bunch of her hair to push Y/N back on his, this time naked, length.

It costs her a lot of self control to not retort him with a snarky remark, as she continues to remove his pants slowly. Yoongi growls, but she just smiles up at him and grabs his heavy dick to stroke it two, three times. Then, she leans down to gently lick his balls, still not using her mouth on his dick.

Yoongi twists and groans, trying his hardest not to grab her and shove his entire length down her throat until it’s sore, but this woman is testing his patience. One of his hands is still on the back of her head whilst he uses the other one to lean back a little, just to get a better view.

“Are you done playing now, Petal?” Yoongi’s grip on Y/N’s hair tightens, his claws digging into her head - and Y/N can’t keep in the silent mewl that leaves her lips at the burning pleasure. “Be a good girl now, will you?” His voice is almost alluring her to do as he pleases, but Y/N wouldn’t be herself if she follows his orders.

Their eyes meet and Yoongi has to admit that she looks perfect. Even though she isn’t wearing any make up right now, hair still damp from her shower and eyes already clouded with lust, he wouldn’t want any other person to be in her position right now.

She stares at his cock again, her own panties dampening at the thought of having it inside her. Y/N’s tongue pokes out to play with his tip, tasting him and getting a feeling for the heaviness on her tongue as Yoongi pushes her down in one swift motion. A gurgling sound escapes from Y/N’s throat, but she does her best to swallow his huge length, using her fist to stroke whatever can’t fit.

“Oh, shit,” Yoongi groans and throws his head back while trying to keep his eyes on Y/N at the same time. Her eyes are closed, lips beautifully parted around his cock and saliva already drips down her chin, even though Yoongi hasn’t even really moved by now. “You’ll let me fuck your mouth, right, angel?”

She nods as good as she can with a mouth full of dick, looking up at the hybrid in front of her. Yoongi hisses as he pushes his hips forward, losing himself in the feeling quickly as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. The sight of Y/N not only sucking him off but also wearing his shirt sends him close to edge quickly.

Y/N pulls off to take a deep breath and to wink at Yoongi before sinking down again.

"God, you're so good, Petal. Wanted to fuck that bratty mouth for so long now. Imagine your father seeing you like that, he'd die from the shock, his little princess on her knees to please the housedragon."

She moans at his words, fingers sIiding under her, Yoongi's, shirt, but the man is quick to grab both of her hands to cross them behind her head. He grabs her wrists as he plunges himself down her throat once more before he spills his hot load into her mouth with a loud growl a bit of smoke that comes out of his nostrils.

As Y/N pulls off, her eyes show the disbelief she must be feeling. "You… You taste like…"

"Cinnamon?", Yoongi smirks, his eye color now much calmer than before now that his inner dragon is somewhat sated - for now.

“Yes, I was expecting anything, a double penis, maybe some weird forms or scales, but not cinnamon flavoured cum. Not that I mind, though. Tastes like that gum I used to have when I was still in school.”

Yoongi hums, stepping out of his pants now that they won’t be used anyways, his shirt following too.

“Now it’s your turn, petal. Let me see you,” he gestures with his fingertip, swirling in a motion for her to turn around, finally giving Yoongi the view that he had been curious about ever since Y/N came out of the bathroom with his shirt on. She isn’t wearing one of those expensive lingeries that are nothing but lace, no. Expensive, yes. A sporty looking string is disappearing between her round buttcheeks, the rather thick waistband of it covered with the Versace logo. Yoongi hums, that’s definitely what he had expected Y/N to wear, it looks comfortable but still seductive.

Y/N smirks over her shoulder, lifting the hem of her shirt teasingly but letting it fall down again to cover her butt. “Maybe you need privileges to undress me, Min. I mean, I’m somewhat of royal blood, aren’t I?” She gracefully sinks down onto his lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

A chuckle leaves Yoongi’s lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want me to call you princess now? Because I didn’t know you were into that. Does babygirl also do the thing for you? I bet your blood’s blue too, I’d love to see that.”

Yoongi traces his finger tip over her thigh, his claw teasing the soft skin there and Y/N’s eyes follow it curiously. He presses down a bit, just enough to break the first layer of skin and draw a little bit of blood - enough to prove both of them that Y/N’s blood isn’t blue. “Oh, too bad, not a real princess,” Yoongi pouts.

Y/n raises her eyebrow. “Did you just cut me?”

“It’s not a cut, just a little… poke?” Yoongi wipes over the blood before bringing his finger to his lips and licking the drop off with a smirk. “Doesn’t taste royal to me, rather muddy. But maybe that’s what you get from living with Kkangpae for so long. Guess mine tastes like dirt too.”

Y/N laughs, not even shocked about the fact that Yoongi seems to be bothered about her blood on his tongue. The melodic sound of her laugh makes Yoongi smile too, an actual, honest smile that shows all his teeth and fangs, causing Y/N to coo. “And suddenly you don’t look scary anymore.”

Her eyes wander down his body, inspecting every inch, maybe to find something more dragon-like, maybe to just remember the skinship for much longer. “Oh,” She breathes out, “You’ve got scales.”

Yoongi looks down at his stomach where some scales are shimmering in the bedroom light. “Yes, I do have scales. I’m a dragon, remember?”

And to Y/N, they’re beautiful. They’re not huge, not as dry or disgusting as lizards look like, no. Those scales must come from a line of beautiful dragons. They match his eyes, shimmering purple and green whenever they hit the light. But they’re not only on his stomach, they are also winding around his sides and up his back.

Y/N’s fingers follow them as she orders Yoongi to lay down on his stomach to get a full view of them.

The scales grow larger on his shoulder blades, probably where his dragon wings imaginely would be and Y/N can’t help but kiss the rough texture. Goosebumps erupt on Yoongi’s entire body, skinship like this was never a real thing for him.

“Feels good,” he whispers into his arm, slightly ashamed. Y/N continues to pamper his skin in kisses and licks, biting the rougher areas here and there until Yoongi grows impatient and turns them around, growling playfully.

“Like I said, my turn now.”

Yoongi always has a thing for taking his time to please his partner, he isn’t one for quick fucks without foreplay. So, he kneels between Y/N’s parting legs, palms caressing the smooth skin that is covered in a few fresh cuts and old scars from practicing her fighting skills, but Yoongi definitely didn’t mind them. His shirt has moved on its own, not even covering her panties anymore but ending somewhere above her belly button by now. As soon as his fingertips glide over the curve of her hips, Y/N shudders with a quiet mewl. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm, ‘m here, you look so good, Petal,” Yoongi whispers while kissing her ankles, her calves, and the sensitive area of her inner thighs. “Truly like a flower. You know that there’s a flower called Dragon’s Breath? It’s bright red and can survive in the heat like a champ, even their leaves are red. But I don’t think it’s scent comes close to yours,” he hums in front of her clothed core, tongue poking against the wet spot on the fabric. “Bet you taste even better, Petal.”

“Yoongi, please,” Y/N whines, getting rid of the shirt by herself, the heat simmering inside her body is almost overwhelming. Yoongi looks up from the space between her legs, eyeing the swell of her breasts with a growl, muttering compliments again and again. He sits up the slightest bit to gently remove her panties - claws nowhere to be seen by now, even his fangs are gone and Yoongi’s just Yoongi, even though the arousal is visible in his eyes again.

He lies down, cock rubbing against the rough sheets causes him to hiss quietly, but his mind is somewhere else within seconds. How couldn’t he with Y/N’s soaking core in front of his face?

She can’t see his mischievous smirk as he swiftly controls the temperature of his skin, cooling down his fingertips as he slowly and teasingly traces her folds.

Y/N yelps. “Yoongi! Shit, what’s that?”

Yoongi laughs, holding up his unoccupied hand to her face, showing her how cold his fingers are by holding them against her cheek whilst the other hand works magic on her clit.

“Unbelievable. Warn me the next time,” she mutters as she sinks back into the pillows.

Yoongi’s hot breath fans the sensitive area before he broadly licks right across the flesh, enjoying the way her body jumps out of surprise again. “Oh, oops.”

Then, he finally pushes one finger in, tongue pressing right against Y/N’s clit as he starts doing what it feels like he was born to do. Yoongi eats her out with no mercy. Ignoring her squirming body and needy whines, he only concentrates on the places that bring the loudest moans out of her, massacring those until she’s close - to stop with a smug smirk.

Y/N could reach her high by just looking at his face, red and breathless, but also wet from her juices, lips glistering in the light. Two of his fingers are still inside her, teasing her G-spot just as his lips start sucking the life out of her clit again.

Y/N’s hands are buried in his chaotic mess of hair, pulling on it but also pressing him further onto her core until his tongue slips inside her as well. She doesn’t warn him, too scared of missing another orgasm, but Yoongi also doesn’t look like he’s about to stop this time, eager to pleasure the woman underneath him. Y/N screams as she reaches her high, hips bucking up from the bed, Yoongi’s head going with it, just so he can make sure that every second of her orgasm will be remembered forever.

He kitten licks her folds as she calms down; stroking her thighs, kissing her stomach while whispering praises. “Fuck,” she rasps out, her stomach still heaving heavily.

Yoongi crawls up next to her with admiration in his eyes as he leans over to kiss Y/N for the first time. She can taste herself on his tongue, but who cares? The kiss is more gentle than Y/N expects. Yoongi seems to be switching moods from hungry to loving within seconds, but that’s probably his inner dragon wanting to devour her whilst Yoongi just wants to take his time to make the night special. Y/N is the one to pull away, looking at him with dark eyes. “Get inside me, please.”

The hybrid smirks, tilting his head as he asks “How do you like it?”

“I’ll show you,” she remarks as she pushes Yoongi to lay flat on his back. She climbs into his lap and sinks down onto his cock in one abrupt motion without even bothering to tease him.

The pleasure is overwhelming; Yoongi stretches her so, so good and Y/N feels so, so warm and tight around Yoongi that he loses all of his control over his body. His eyes are bright purple now, pupils forming into slits that remind Y/N more of a snake than a dragon. His skin burns up, almost too much for her to bear, but the hissing noises Yoongi releases are enough to hold on through it.

“Fuck, sorry, wait a second,” Yoongi tries to push her off so she can cool down a little bit, but Y/N just shakes her head. She shushes him with a gentle kiss, careful of the fangs that now poke out between his lips again. “Don’t hold back, it’s not hurting me. Be yourself, Yoongi. I trust you.”

Yoongi curses under his breath as he tries his best not to move, letting Y/N adjust to his size and the circumstances of his inhumane origin. He’s never fucked a human, and even though they’re not that much different from hybrids he knew that he didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s not only the temperature,” Yoongi groans, “I tend to bite and mark my partners. I don’t know how your body would react to it, though. I sometimes say or do things that my human side would never say.”

Y/N smiles at him, fondness blooming in her heart as she starts swaying her hips slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Like I said, Yoongi, I trust you. I’m sure that you’re inside your inner dragon, that you won’t hurt me and even if I tell you to stop; you’d be able to. Now, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re getting all shy while your dick is inside me?”

She tilts her head with a playful smile as her hands glide down Yoongi’s toned chest, teasing his perky nipples and playing with his beautiful scales. It was still hard to believe that the rarest, most powerful hybrid was right here with her, laying underneath her, sharing this moment with her.

“Now come on, Yoongi, wake up the dragon and give me what you’ve promised.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, hands landing a firm grip on Y/N’s hips as he plants his feet firmly on the mattress before quickly pistoning up inside her. Y/N cries in pleasure, but Yoongi almost doesn’t hear it, too lost in the feeling of her tight pussy around his cock. He’s still trying to be careful, keeping his claws under control so he won’t actually tear her apart.

“‘m gonna make you cum so good, Petal. So, so good.”

Then, he flips them around in one swift motion, hovering over her frame as he looks down at her like only a predator could. “Mine,” he snarls as he licks into Y/N’s mouth, hips moving slowly but so powerful that her body pushes up into the pillow with each thrust. “Say it, Petal. Say you’re mine.”

Yoongi grabs her face so she can’t break eye contact - not that she would, who could look away from such eyes? They’re hypnotizing and Y/N is sure that she will do just about anything for him right now.

“I’m yours, Yoongi. It’s just you and me right now,” she breathes out as she grabs his hair, pulling his head closer so she can connect their lips once more.

Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, his orgasm approaching, but he didn’t want it to end just yet. Of course, dragon stamina is different, but where would be the fun in that? Orgasm control and denial is a thing that Yoongi enjoys here and there, teasing himself whilst masturbating, not letting him or his partners come and delaying their pleasure for as long as he possibly can. That’s why he pulls out quickly, leaving Y/N’s core clench around nothing.

“The fuck, Yoongi?” Y/N whines and glares at the man in front of her, eyeing his sweaty body.

He laughs and presses a quick kiss to her lips before he sits back on his heels, staring at her body as well. Her chest is heaving, fine pearls of sweat dripping down the space between her breasts and her legs are slightly shaking - all of that is enough to boost Yoongi’s confidence as he quickly pushes two of his fingers inside her, pumping them at a rapid pace. His teeth - and fangs - nibble on her nipples, pulling them slightly, almost crossing the border of comfortable pain as he fingers her through her second orgasm of the night.

“Do you want to kill me?” Y/N sighs as she catches her breath, knowing that Yoongi is not done with her for tonight.

He laughs again, fangs shining in the light and tiny droplets of sweat fall out of his hair as he shakes his head. “I could, but where would be the fun in that? Or are you one of those girls that like the thrill of almost being killed? I could choke you if you’re into that.”

“Oh, I am into that, but not after orgasming two times and knowing that there will probably be two more coming. Is that one of your kinks? Choking?” She tilts her head in an adorable way - too adorable for the position she’s in right now.

“Mhhm,” Yoongi hums whilst tracing the sensitive skin on her stomach. Y/N jumps slightly, shooting Yoongi a playful glare before quickly jumping onto him. She sits down on his abdomen, leans over and closes her hands around his throat. “Do you like being choked too?”

“Can you handle me fighting back against it?” The challenge shimmers in Yoongi’s eyes, knowing that Y/N is nowhere as strong as he is, but he loves playing. He doesn’t mind if she wants to be on top, he enjoys losing control once in a while, but his dragon usually hates it, fights against it.

Y/N loosens the grip of one hand to slowly rake her fingernails down his chest, leaving visible lines. “I’ve never said no to a good fight, Yoongi.”

The hybrid growls, hands balling to fists as Y/N tightens the grip on his neck once again.

“This is so hot, you’re so hot,” He whispers, eyes closed and lost in the feeling.

Then, Y/N lines herself up with Yoongi again and sinks down slowly, gasping slightly because the stretch is still there, but it feels so good. “God, move, please move,” Yoongi rasps and who would Y/N be to deny him such a thing? She uses both of her hands to sturdy herself on his chest whilst quickly bouncing up and down his cock. The noises that Yoongi makes are music to her ears, he’s usually so quiet, but now he doesn’t even try to hide the pleasure he’s feeling.

He groans, grunts, hisses and even moans whilst his hips buckle up to meet her thrusts. “Fuck, I’m going to breed you so well. You’re mine, Y/N. Gonna be my mate, huh? Gonna carry my chicks, all beautiful and round.”

Y/N’s eyes widen at Yoongi’s confession, but she can’t deny the arousal that floods through her body with his words. “Yes, Yoongi. Fuck, yes, breed me.”

By now the biggest roar leaves Yoongi’s chest as he pushes Y/N off, to grab her hips and position her on all fours in front of him. A harsh slap lands on her ass as he pushes in again, pressing her face-down into the pillows. “I will, Petal. You could never want anyone else after being mine. Nobody else. Just me.”

His hand finds its way into her hair, wrapping it around his wrist as he pulls her head back, having her at full mercy.

They’re both a loud mess by now and Yoongi is fucking thankful for the bunker, because imagine if they’d go on like this in Taehyung’s cabin instead - the entire forest would be able to listen to them.

It’s gross and sweaty, wild and not gentle, but both of them enjoy it way too much.

Y/N can’t even warn Yoongi before her third orgasm washes through her body and the tight clench combined with her sinful moans sends Yoongi over the edge too - spilling his thick load into her with one last thrust.

“Shit,” he groans as he collapses on top of her, pressing kisses all over her neck. “You were so good, Petal.”

Y/N smiles, nuzzling back into him and closes her eyes to enjoy the comfortable post-sex silence. Yoongi hums quietly, giving the two of them time to cool down - he helps her by reducing his body temperature again -, then he pulls out. “Ew,” he mutters as his cum gushes out of her.

“Creampies are hot whilst you’re still busy with fucking, but afterwards it’s just a gross mess. Wanna take a shower?”

Y/N’s way too lazy to shower right now, she’d die for a hot bath but the bunker didn’t give her any chance to fulfill that dream, so she just nods. “Mhm, yes, but you’ve got to carry me, you big lizard.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows before sighing in defeat. “Guess I’ll need to show you my dragon once again.” He lifts Y/N up easily and carries her towards the bathroom, just to have her at his mercy once more. And this time, Y/N doesn’t argue about him being a true dragon.

Days and nights go by quickly whilst Yoongi and Y/N grow closer each passing minute.

They spend their days together training, teaching each other self defense tricks and talking about which places they want to travel to next.

They do sleep together now, not fighting over who will get the bed and who will have to stay on the couch. Some nights are a bit colder, which gives Yoongi the opportunity to hold Y/N close to his chest while slowly heating himself up to a comfortable temperature to sleep in. In general, you could say that Yoongi and Y/N act like a couple - though they don’t talk about their feelings right now.

Yoongi has never been in love and neither has Y/N, Kkangpae hasn't given them any chance to find a suitable partner to spend their lives with. So how would they know if love is what they are feeling?

What Yoongi does know is that he’d protect Y/N with his life - and vice versa.

Cuddling on the couch has become a thing for Y/N and Yoongi and he hates being unsure about the whole situation, he didn’t want to label them, but he is itching to know what’s going on between them. So one evening after dinner, he blurts out “Are we in a relationship? Like, are we a thing now?”

Y/N jumps slightly in Yoongi’s embrace and looks up at the hybrid, unsure. “I… don’t know? I guess you could say so, we do a lot of couple things, I mean last night when you ate my..-”

“Oh, yes, I remember. That was fun!”

Yoongi smirks at the memory of last night’s bedtime adventures, Y/N trapped underneath him, her legs wrapping around his head as he ate her out slowly and teasingly, before he just pulls her on top of himself to sit on his face. Now he has not only her pussy in front of him, but also her ass - and what kind of man would Yoongi be to not use this opportunity?

“I mean, I would… I would like to be in a relationship with you, Yoongi. I trust you, I really like you and I feel like we’ll be spending the rest of our lives together anyway,” Y/N looks at her hands and bites her lip in anticipation, fearful about the man’s answer.

“That sounds like you’re choosing to date me just because I’m the only man around you, Petal.”

He gently grabs her face, giving her no chance to break the eye contact. This time, the green in his eyes is more prominent than the purple - a rare sight, but Y/N is still in awe. “I want you to choose me because you actually like me, Y/N. Not just like, but maybe even love me. I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, there can’t be love between us for now, but I can say for myself that I am really close to loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life running away with you, not just because I have to.”

Y/N pouts, eyebrows furrowing as she looks at Yoongi. “I didn’t mean it like that, Yoongi. But if you’re asking this charmingly, yes, I’d like to date you too, you big baby.” Yoongi growls playfully, showing off his fangs - which he knows that they don’t scare Y/N at all, but he’s proud of them, so he shows them off here and there - and pressing a gentle kiss onto her lips.

Feelings change kisses. Kissing somebody that you’re now dating is even better so the new couple spends minutes kissing each other carefully and lovingly. Yoongi is just about to get Y/N on his lap as the door bursts open and an out of breath looking Taehyung stands in the living room.

“Yoongi… They’re here… Rats, but they smelled weird,” the hybrid pants as he looks at Yoongi.

The dragon just stares at Taehyung intensely, before nodding. “Thanks, man. Really. For your help, for letting us stay here, take care of yourself, okay?”

All of them know that it’s now the time for Y/N and Yoongi to leave, not coming back ever again because Kkangpae would always have their men here from now on.

“Thank you, Tae,” Y/N bows slightly with red cheeks, still embarrassed that they got caught.

“Good luck, guys.” Taehyung sends them a hurt smile, knowing that he and Yoongi could actually be friends if their lives were different, but now it was time to say goodbye so Taehyung turns around and leaves as quickly as he came.

Yoongi sighs as he stands up and starts gathering their things. “Time to pack. You’ll do the bedroom and I’ll collect our stuff from here, okay? I think the next stop will be South Africa, it’s a long trip but it’ll be worth it, Kkangpae would probably never search for us there.”

And so, they do end up in Kenya almost two weeks later, the US long forgotten as their lives go on.

The trip is actually fun, Yoongi and Y/N riding on their motorbikes - Yoongi is even allowed to ride hers for a short amount of time - taking the ferry instead of the plane and sleeping at random places in the countries they passed.

Kenya is beautiful, the temperature is perfect for Yoongi and he finally gets the glow a true dragon should have. He doesn’t look as pale anymore, random scales growing here and there on his arms and neck and Y/N has never found Yoongi to be more beautiful. He seems truly happy.

The couple even started to go out, visiting different National Parks and trying to find some volcanoes for Yoongi. Y/N knows that she could never go near an active volcano, but Yoongi swears that he needed them at least once every two months to keep his dragon alive - though Y/N thinks he wants to take a long nap in the lava again.

During their time at the Masai Mara National Reserve they met another hybrid, a rare persian cheetah by the name of Hoseok. He greets them with open arms and is friendly enough to show them around.

Hoseok also gives them a perfect description of how Yoongi would find the only active volcano in South Africa on Marion Island. That’s where the couple is right now, Y/N swimming in the turquoise water around the island whilst Yoongi takes, to no surprise, a nap in the lava.

They’re genuinely happy, living more relaxed and peaceful than ever before and once Yoongi wakes up from his nap and sees Y/N still swimming around, playing with little fish and looking as beautiful as ever, he just knows that he made the right decision. She’s the one he wants to spend his life with, have kids with and die with.

They have a good feeling that Kkangpae won’t find them here. This can be their home from now on. Though, they wouldn’t mind the chance to discover more of the earth, travel around and meet new people.

But South Korea isn’t on their list, that’s for sure.

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raibebe · 3 years

Text

Genre: Fluff Words: 6.879 Prompt: best friend Yangyang x female reader + “Stop hogging all the blankets!” Warnings: MC is an oblivious idiot, Yangyang is a sweetheart, mentions of injury

A/N: What do you mean Valentine’s Day was on the 14th and not on the 24th? Seems fake. AnYwAys: This was written for the Candy hearts collab hosted by @127-mile. Thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write for my precious brezel baby. Thank you @ncteaxhoe for the lovely header after I went almost crazy...

Taglist: @byunniebaekhyunnie

“You’re going on vacation with Yangyang?” “Yes.” “Your best friend?” “Yes.” “To an abandoned cabin in the woods.” “First it’s not abandoned, just very far out and second I don’t see where you’re going with this.” “Well are you?” You sighed loudly, rolling your eyes at Donghyuck who was sat in front of you in the library where you had met to have a little study session before you were leaving for the weekend. “Yes I am.” “On Valentine’s Day.” “It’s just because it’s on a weekend and it was cheap.” “You do see where I am going with this, right?” “I am not Donghyuck,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re literally the most stupid person I have ever met and I am friends with a bunch of idiots,” your friend whined, throwing the straw wrapper from his iced americano at you. “Hyuck what’s your problem? We’re literally just both stressed out from classes already and he found that offer that’s within both of our budgets. Nothing wrong about two friends chilling in a secluded cabin.” “Have you seen the freaking cabin?” Donghyuck whisper screamed, earning him a hiss from one of the students sitting on the table next to you. “I have, Hyuck.” “Then you might have missed the fact that this cabin coincidentally has a hot tub but only one bedroom?” He went on, waving his phone in front of your face where he had pulled up the website advertising the cabin. Groaning, you faceplanted into the books that were scattered around you. “Do you see what I mean now?” Donghyuck hissed, scrolling through the pictures on the website. “Hyuck listen. Yangyang and I are both kind of short on cash so the bigger cabins just weren’t going to make it if we wanted that hot tub. So we agreed that we could sleep in the same bed for a couple of nights, no big deal. Pretty sure you’ve done that with Mark, Jaemin and Jeno as well when you four went on spring break vacation.” “Don’t distract from the topic, that was entirely different,” Donghyuck mused but the slight blush covering his cheeks was betraying him. “Is it though?” You asked, a shit eating grin on your face. “When did this conversation turn into you commenting on my poor live choices?”

“Discussing Hyuck’s poor live choices? My favorite part time activity,” another voice joined into your conversation and Renjun plopped down next to his friend on the bench. “Can you smell my misery or something?” Donghyuck groaned, slumping back into his seat, dramatically staring at the high ceiling. “I wish I could,” the Chinese laughed, loudly slurping his iced drink of choice despite the chilly weather outside while completely ignoring the glares some of the students were shooting him, “No, I was supposed to meet Yangyang to give him my car keys but you’ll do.” With that he threw his keys onto the table. “It’s parked by the student center, should fit all of your stuff.” “Thank you Renjun,” you smiled, pocketing his keys. “There is a chance though that I am out of gas,” he grinned. “I knew there would be a catch,” the familiar voice of your best friend groaned before he plopped down next to you, loudly dropping his backpack onto the floor which again had people to glare at your little group. “I swear to god you’re going to get us kicked out,” Hyuck hissed, throwing Yangyang and Renjun disappointed glares. “Not like you were studying anyways,” Renjun rolled his eyes. “What were you doing?” Yangyang asked, flipping through the pages of one of your books. “Well I was trying to get a head start on my essay,” you groaned, “But Hyuck had other plans.”

“Exactly. Which brings me back to my point,” Donghyuck grinned, turning towards Yangyang, “Yang, so did you, by any chance notice that the cabin you’re staying at this weekend with your best friend on freaking Valentine’s Day conveniently only has one bed but features a hot tub?” “Oooooh,” Renjun mused, leaning forward into his elbows. “Well... We were short on money but wanted a hot tub?” Yangyang slowly answered, blushing under the intense gazes of both of his friends. “See Hyuck it’s exactly what I told you,” you groaned, “No big deal.” “Sure, just two friends sitting in a hot tub, five feet apart because they’re not in love,” Renjun sang. “The original sounds better,” Donhyuck said flatly. “Yeah but the both of them are disgustingly straight,” Renjun shrugged. “You make that sound like an insult,” Yangyang snorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Anyways!” Donghyuck interrupted a little too loud, causing one of the students working in the library to actually walk over to your table to ask you to leave.

“Well great,” you groaned when you snuggled into your thick winter jacket once you were outside while Renjun and Yangyang couldn’t hold in their laughter anymore. “You guys are the worst,” you said and rolled your eyes even though you couldn’t stop the smile on your face from spreading. “You love us,” Donghyuck laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “We weren’t gonna get anything done anyways.” “And we still need to pack,” Yangyang added, “Also I still need the keys to the car.” “Catch,” you called and quickly threw the keys over to your best friend that Renjun had given you earlier, laughing as he struggled to catch them. “Treat her gently,” Renjun laughed, “Oh and she needs gas.” “Why did I expect anything else,” Yangyang groaned but pocketed the keys, “I’ll pick you up after your morning classes?” “Sure,” you smiled. “You’re leaving me alone in our literature class?” Donghyuck gasped, dramatically holding his heart. “Listen, it’s either listening to professor Quian all afternoon or drive to the cabin early, Hyuck. What would you do?” You giggled. “Fair,” he shrugged, “But I still feel betrayed.” “Yesterday you felt betrayed by that pizza place because you found one stray piece of pineapple on your pizza,” Renjun helpfully added. “That was an attack on my health,” he hissed, pointing his finger at his friend and roommate, “Pineapples do not belong on pizza.” “I am not having this discussion again,” you groaned and slipped out of Donghyuck’s grip, “I gotta pack my stuff.” “Yeah, have fun on your totally not couple’s vacation,” Renjun laughed. “It’s not a couple’s vacation,” you and Yangyang immediately shouted, giggling at each other afterwards. “You’re all disgusting, I am leaving,” Donghyuck declared, dragging Renjun with him in the direction of their dorm.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled at Yangyang. “Yeah, I’ll pick up Renjun’s car and get all the stuff inside. Be at your dorm at like 12.” “Sure, I’m really looking forward to this.” “Yeah, me too,” Yangyang said softly, a soft blush on his cheeks that must have been from the cold air. He quickly wrapped you up in a hug before waving goodbye to head over to the student’s center. Sighing you turned in the opposite direction to your own shoebox of a dorm room, skidding along excitedly. You really were looking forward to this vacation with your best friend.

The next day found you buzzing with excitement, quickly throwing the last things that had been missing into your bag before speeding to your morning classes that went by in a blur. In what felt like no time at all, you were rushing down the steps of your dorm to throw yourself into Renjun’s car and your arms around your best friend’s neck to squeeze him in a tight hug. “I’m so excited,” you squeaked once you let him go to heave in a couple of breaths. “I can tell,” Yangyang laughed, handing you his phone that was already connected to the AUX cord, “I spend two hours yesterday to make the perfect road trip playlist, so you better appreciate that.” “This better not suck,” you laughed as he started the car to start your journey.

The way up to the mountains found you and Yangyang singing along to his actually good playlist that included some of your favorite songs, your singing getting progressively worse and louder the higher up you got and the more snow was falling. After you had gotten lost just once or twice on the way to pick up the keys from a lady at the reception who handed you a big basket with rose petals, champagne and what seemed like condoms and lube. Heat had immediately risen to both of your faces and you had stumbled over your words for the rest of the conversation, relieved when you could finally leave and head over back to your car to drive up to where your small cabin was.

“This is so cozy,” you cooed once you had made it inside the cabin, dropping your bag right next to the door to race through the rooms that included a small but clean bathroom and small kitchen with the cutest old school curtains in front of the snowy windows and a door lead outside to where the hot tub was already steaming. The main room that you had come into had a small two-seater couch with a bunch of cozy blankets thrown over it standing in front of a little fireplace that both you and Yangyang were kind of scared to light but you had to eventually because that was all the heat you were going to get. “The bed is huge,” Yangyang exclaimed and the next thing you heard was a loud thump as he had faceplanted right into the mattress, currently starfishing out, his fingertips not reaching the ends of the bed. “But we only have one blanket,” you laughed, flipping up through the layers your best friend was laying on top. “Wait for real?” He asked, eyes wide and scrambling to take a look for himself. “I hope you like cuddling,” you giggled, tackling your best friend onto the bed who just screeched before he tried to get the upper hand in the tickle fight that had broken out.

“Okay, okay, I surrender,” you laughed with tears in your eyes and lifted your arms in defeat when he had you pinned beneath you, his fingers tickling your sides until you couldn’t breathe anymore. “You’re admitting defeat?” Yangyang laughed, all his teeth showing with how bright he was smiling, digging his fingers between your ribs one last time before he fell to the mattress next to you, you both panting heavily between giggles. When you turned your head to look at your best friend, he was already looking right back at you, something unreadable in his expression. For a while you just stared into each other’s eyes, the occasional noise of the wood of the cabin creaking the only sound you could hear. Had Yangyang’s eyes always sparkled like that in the low light? Or was it just more apparent now that he had dyed his hair back to his natural dark brown? You found your hand itching to push his too long bangs from his eyes so you could see them properly, captivated by how the edges crinkled up with how he was softly smiling.

The serene silence was very rudely interrupted by Yangyang’s stomach growling loudly which caused both of you to burst out into another fit of giggles. “I think that’s out cue to put the pizzas in the oven and to unpack,” you laughed, slapping your best friend’s shoulder when he made no move to get up, instead wrapping himself up in the throw blanket. “You’re so annoying,” you groaned and climbed off of the bed. “You love me,” he argued, sticking out his tongue at you. For some reason the easy answer of ‘Yes, I do’ got stuck in your throat and you just hummed before walking over to where you had unceremoniously dropped your bags by the door to get the half frozen pizzas and turned on the oven. What was wrong with you all of a sudden? You two always bickered like that. Screw Donghyuck for getting all up in your head before this trip. Nothing had changed. It was just you and your best friend spending a weekend together. Nothing unusual. That’s what friends did. It’s what Donghyuck did with his friends.

Staring blankly into the oven once you had put the pizzas in, you were lost in your thoughts that twisted and turned inside your head but didn’t seem to make any sense at all. “Are you mad at me?” Yangyang spoke and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to let out a high pitched screech from how surprised you were. “Don’t scare me like that,” you scolded him, trying to calm down your furiously beating heart. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hooking his head over your shoulder to look into the oven as well, just wordlessly holding you close. “I’m not mad,” you eventually said, letting the tension seep from your muscles and melting into his hold. Smiling you let your weight sag against him, knowing he would have the strength to hold you up. “Sleepy?” You just hummed nonchalantly even though you weren’t particularly tired but somehow your body felt exhausted. “The drive took longer than expected,” Yangyang agreed, “Let’s just eat and then try to get the fire going. I brought my laptop and downloaded all the episodes of our next season.” “You’re an angel,” you giggled, “I didn’t even think about that.” “I’m not,” he mumbled, hiding his face in your neck. “My angel,” you laughed, squirming in his grip to turn around and pinch his sensitive sides. What you hadn’t expected was him not backing off, so you found yourself pinned between his body and the oven, your faces dangerously close together. For a second or two you just stayed like that before Yangyang’s brain seemed to realize just how close you were, causing heat to rise to his cheeks and him nervously spluttering about how he’d set the table and unpack everything. Something was definitely off between you two but you chose to put it aside for now, not quiet daring to think about it.

Once you both had two steaming plates of pizza in front of you, everything seemed to be back to normal and conversation flew easily just how it always did between the two of you. You would complain about being swarmed with essays and Yangyang would complain about his two roommates who couldn’t be more different from each other which made for a lot of potential for arguments or about how his mother would continuously call him every week to bog him about how school was going, if he was taking his vitamins, if he was still practicing playing his violin, if he had found a girlfriend yet or if he had finally given up on his stupid dancing classes. You were always quick to tell him that he should not feel pressured to drop his dancing to take violin lessons again if he wasn’t passionate about it anymore, no matter how much his mom would nag him about it. You knew that he loved dancing way too much and had made so many good friends in his dance crew to just give it up. So just like every time you gently took his hand in yours to squeeze it reassuringly when you promised him he could live with you if his mother decided to disown him over this. But this time he didn’t let your hand go once he moved on to tell a story on how his roommates had started arguing in the middle of the night because one of them had started to eat snacks which had woken the other one up, this thumb mindlessly caressing the back of your hand.

“Do you really trust me with the fire?” Yangyang asked with a frown on his face as he read through the instructions that were hung up next to the fireplace. “I don’t,” you laughed from where you were washing the dishes in the kitchen, “But if they leave it for us to light, it can’t be too dangerous or difficult.” “I appreciate this incredible amount of confidence you have in me,” your best friend snorted before getting to work to pile up wood and paper and carefully lighting the latter. “I made fire!” He exclaimed excitedly, a bright grin on his lips which immediately made you smile as well. “Now just don’t let it go out,” you smiled, “I’ll go change into comfy clothes real quick.” Yangyang just hummed, carefully adding more wood to his fire so it wouldn’t go out again.

“Yo, I think I got the hang of it,” he announced once you came back to the warmed up living room with snacks and clad in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. “Is that my hoodie?” Yanyang asked when you sat down the bags next to his laptop where he had already pulled up the first episode. “Not a chance,” you replied and plopped down onto the couch to snuggle into the hoodie you definitely hadn’t stolen from your best friend. “It seems oddly familiar though,” he mused but sat down next to you anyways, your thighs touching because the sofa wasn’t particularly big. “I’ve had it for a while,” you grinned innocently, throwing one of the blankets over your legs to keep them warm. “Sure,” Yangyang laughed and threw up the large hood before pressing play on the first episode.

Throughout the episodes you seemed to gravitate towards Yangyang more and more the later it got: First only leaning your head on his shoulder, then he wrapped an arm around you to pull you even closer, followed by you pulling your legs up on the sofa, leaning even further into him until you were basically lying on his chest until it became too uncomfortable and you two shuffled around until he had both of his legs outstretched on the sofa with you sat in between them: your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you. “I could fall asleep like this,” you mumbled when you felt your lids getting heavy, the soft melody of the outro lulling you in. “Don’t though, we’ll be sore tomorrow,” Yangyang laughed, poking your cheek. “Is this your only concern?” “We’ve cuddled like this before,” he just shrugged it off. You just hummed and cuddled closer to his heartbeat, fully closing your eyes. “Yah. Don’t fall asleep on me like that,” your best friend protested, “There is a perfectly fine bed waiting with plenty of space.” “Not my problem your body is like 80 percent stupidly lanky legs.” “Come on, get up.” “But the bed is going to be all cold and it’s nice and warm in here,” you argued. “It’s not going to warm up if you keep clinging to me like that,” Yangyang giggled. “I’m not clinging,” you pouted. “Pretty sure you are,” he laughed, finger flicking your forehead, “Come on, lazy. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Grumbling, you agreed and followed your best friend into the small bathroom with the blanket still wrapped around your body where you two quickly washed up. You had been right, the air in the bedroom was icy to say the least. “We’re going to freeze to death and no one will ever find us, Yangyang,” you groaned dramatically. “They literally have to clean up before the next guests come here, so our corpses would be here for a week tops.” “You’re so good at this reassuring thing,” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help to smile. “I know,” he grinned, “Turn around.” “What for?” “I’m changing,” he simply stated, already unbuckling his belt. “Oooh.” With burning cheeks, you quickly turned around, clutching the blanket tightly in your hands. In quick succession you heard first his belt and then his pants and shirt hit the floor before he rummaged through his bag and stepped into new clothes. “Done,” he announced and immediately jumped onto the bed to shuffle beneath the layers of blankets. Still feeling shy you carefully dropped the blanket from the living room and crawled into bed as well, leaving a respectable distance to your best friend which was fairly easy with how big the bed was.

“If you’re going to hog all the blankets, I will scream,” Yangyang spoke into the sudden silence that had draped over you. “I bet you’re the blanket hogger,” you snorted and playfully tugged at the blankets to roll them tightly around you. “I swear to god,” your best friend groaned, his feet kicking the mattress in frustration, “I won one tickle fight and I will win again.” Giggling, you let go of your grip so Yangyang could easily pull the blankets back. “Good night, Yangyang,” you whispered. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered back and you could hear him twist and turn for a couple of moments before he found a comfortable spot to sleep in. Smiling you also settled in, pulling the blankets tight around you to not let the cold of the room seep into your cocoon. While thinking of what you would do tomorrow, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning the unforgiving light of the sun reflected by the snow outside tickled your nose to slowly wake you up from your dreamless sleep but you really weren’t ready to let go of the comfort that a good night’s sleep had given you. It was just too cozy beneath the layers of blankets, the warmth of another person seeping into your bones while outside the cocoon it was cold. Wait. Warmth of another person? That had you wake up way faster than you would have liked, your own body going rigid in the hold Yangyang had on you. “Finally woke up?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual and raspy from sleep. “Y... Yeah,” you hummed, scared to turn around to look at your best friend. “Why are we cuddling?” “Because someone wouldn’t stop hogging all the blankets, leaving me out in the cold to sleep,” Yangyang said matter-of-factly, his breath hitting your neck. Looking around you, you couldn’t help but chuckle, you really had balled up so much of the blanket on your side of the bed in your sleep that part of it had dropped to the floor on your side. “You laugh but I was freezing my ass off half the night,” your best friend nagged. “I’ll make it up to you with breakfast?” “Omelets?” “You’re going to help cutting veggies?” “Nope,” Yangyang said, popping the p-sound out loud. “You’re terrible.” “You left me to freeze!” “Fine,” you groaned and wiggled yourself free from his grip, leaving the warmth of his embrace and the blankets, “But you’re doing the dishes after.” “Sure.”

For the first time today, you turned around to look at Yangyang and you really weren’t prepared for his tousled hair and lazy smile. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest before it made a couple of summersaults. “Morning,” he grinned, burying himself back into the blankets. “Yeah... Good morning...” “Take your time, I’ll shower in a bit,” Yangyang yawned and you couldn’t hold back your own which in turn made him laugh. “Don’t take too long, lazy,” you smiled before quickly freshening up in the bathroom and starting to prepare the breakfast you hast promised.

Somewhere between filling two pans with the eggs and adding the cut up vegetables, your best friend joined you in the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower and your heart yet again did acrobatics in your chest. What was wrong with you? This was just Yangyang. Your best friend. You had slept in the same room countless of times. You had made him breakfast even more times because he was not to be trusted in the kitchen. So why was your heart all jumpy around him now? Had Donghyuck been right? But nothing between Yangyang and you had changed. You always cuddled up together when you binge watched shows together or had movie nights with your other friends.

“What’s up with you today?” Yangyang asked once you had slid the omelets on two plates and put down a steaming mug of coffee for each of you. “Nothing,” you quickly tried to reassure him but the way he raised up one of his brows was sign enough that he didn’t believe you. “It’s really nothing,” you tried again, forcing a smile onto your face that really wasn’t all that hard to maintain when looking at Yangyang, “I was just thinking about where we should go for our walk.” Your friend just hummed around a mouthful of eggs and pulled out his phone. “I looked something up,” he slurred before swallowing down what he had been chewing, “If we follow this trail, it will take us around the lake which should be frozen and eventually to a little town. If the ice is solid enough, there’s a shop where we can rent skates. And if it’s not we can just stroll around town. To go back, we can take the shorter way back along the road we came with the car.” “I like that,” you admitted as you scrolled through the website Yangyang had pulled up on his phone. The prices weren’t so bad and the scenery looked breathtaking. “Let’s do that,” you concluded, giving your best fried a bright smile.

Even bundled up in your thickest jacket and with a big scarf wrapped around your throat, the cold air outside of the cabin was unforgiving. But somehow you really liked how clean the air was as it prickled through your lungs before you exhaled again, your breath coming out in a little white huff. “I didn’t think it would be so cold, wow,” Yangyang mused as he locked the cabin before walking over to you. “I like it,” you smiled, “Which way?” But instead of an answer all you got from your best friend was a snowball thrown at you, hitting you square in the chest as you turned around to him. “Oh you’re so on,” you grinned, immediately ducking down to scoop some snow up yourself to fire right back. Your loud giggles and shouts filled the otherwise quite air of the forest and you didn’t even feel the cold of the snow and the air seeping into your bones and clothes, all you focused on was to get Yangyang back for knocking your hat off of your head when the face definitely should be off limits. “You little shit,” you yelled, running over to him to dunk his face into the big pile of snow that had gathered in front of the cabin when suddenly you stepped onto a plate of ice, making you lose your footing and the world quickly turned sideways.

You heard Yangyang yell your name before his worried face came back into your field of vision. “Shit, are you okay?” “Yeah, fine,” you crooked out. The fall really had knocked all air out of your lungs and who were you kidding, you would probably get a nasty bruise on your leg from where you had fallen on the unforgiving ice. “Hey, careful,” Yangyang said, taking your hands in his to pull you back to your feet. “Fuck,” you cursed when you put weight on your left leg, pain shooting up all the way up to your back, “I don’t think I can stand.” “Shit, left foot?” You simply nodded and gritted your teeth together as he tried to help you up again, immediately stabilizing you, so you didn’t have to put weight on your injured leg. “I’m sorry,” you muttered as he helped you to waddle back over to the cabin. Great. Now you had not only ruined your day but maybe even your whole short holidays. Yangyang for sure hadn’t wanted to be stuck inside this cabin with you for two more days. “Don’t be. Let’s take a look at that, might be broken or something,” your best friend reassured you.

With awkward little hops, he guided you over to the little sofa in the living room where you had been cuddling all evening yesterday. “Let me take a look.” After shedding your jackets and other gear you had worn to shield yourselves from the cold, Yangyang carefully unlaced your boots with nimble fingers, apologizing every time you winced in pain. “Well fuck. This thing is so swollen,” he announced once boot and sock were off of your foot. “How bad?” You asked with your eyes squeezed shut, not daring to take a look at it. “Hold still,” he instructed you, gently touching the swollen ankle to rotate it carefully which tore a whimper from your lips. “I don’t think it’s broken,” Yangyang eventually announced, “Ten has sprained his ankle during practice before and it looked similar, so I don’t think we need to get you to a hospital right now.” Thank god that your best friend was taking those dancing classes. “On a scale from when you burned your hand while trying to cook ramyeon in milk to whatever your roommate once left in that pot for too long, how gross does it look?” “It’s really not that bad yet,” Yangyang giggled before he let out a fake gag, “Please do not remind me of that pot, it’s a wonder that whatever that was had not grown legs and left the pot on its own accord.”

“Hold my hand,” you demanded, making grabby hands at your best friend where he was sat in front of you on the floor. “You big baby, it’s really not that bad. It’s not even bruised yet,” he laughed but took your hand in his anyways, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Finally opening your eyes, you took in the picture: You ankle was definitely fucked. If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess that it had already swollen to at least three times of its usual size and pulsating with the blood that was rushing to the surface. “Disgusting.” “If we cool it enough and keep it still, everything should be fine,” Yangyang reassured you, giving your hand another squeeze and rubbing your leg with his other hand, “You’re all tensed up. Does anything else hurt?” “My whole leg?” You slowly said but it came out more as a question than anything else. “Let me see.” “What do you mean let me see?” You all but screeched, pulling back your hand to clutch them at your chest instead where your heart was beating in quick succession. “Come on, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in a bathing suit or anything. I just want to make sure it’s just the ankle,” he calmed you down. Why was your heart beating so fast anyways? Yangyang was right. You had seen each other in different states of undress over all the years you had already been friends. But for some reason everything felt different in this secluded little cabin in the middle of nowhere. It was like you were seeing Yangyang in a completely different light. He was not just the funny guy who only cared about hanging out with his friends and having fun; he suddenly seemed a lot more mature here. Weird. The clean air must have already gotten to your head.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Yangyang spoke again, kneading soothing circles into your still very much tensed calf muscles. “Okay,” you whispered, slowly unbuttoning you jeans, thanking whoever was listening that you had packed and worn nice panties. With combined effort, you wrestled the damp fabric of your jeans from your legs to reveal that your whole left side had already started to bruise up, dark colors bleeding into your skin. “Oh fuck,” you cursed, throwing your head back, “That looks so bad.” You couldn’t help but giggle. “I look like I have been fucking mauled.” “Or like you have a very unhealthy skin condition,” your best friend joined your laughter. But what you couldn’t see was how his eyes darted over the exposed skin, not knowing where he should look first. “I’ll check your knee,” he mumbled once you both had stopped laughing, gently touching your skin. You couldn’t help but hiss when his fingers met your flesh even though he was being gentle. It felt like his fingers left little flames in their wake, leaving your skin tingling. You saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat before he spoke: “Your knee seems fine, but those bruises will turn nasty in an hour or two.” “G-great,” you stuttered, avoiding Yangyang’s eyes while looking down to where his hand was still resting on your knee. “I think I still have some ointment from dance class in my bag that could help,” he mumbled, “I could get that and massage the muscles for a bit in case you pulled something as well.” “Massage,” you repeated, starstruck. “Not if you don’t want to but it might get worse if you’ve pulled a muscle or something if it keeps being this tense.” “I- Yeah. Ok,” you stuttered. “Don’t move.” “Funny,” you grumbled as Yangyang went to fetch his ointment from the bedroom.

“It’s going to be cold,” he warned you when he sat back down in front of you again, lathering up his hands with the strong smelling ointment before he gently pressed down on the muscles of your calf, his fingers working on the knots in your muscle before slowly making their way upwards. You had to bite your lip in order to keep any noise from slipping once his fingers had reached the skin just above your knee. “You’re really tense,” Yangyang mumbled after a while, his fingers itching almost dangerously high on your thigh by now, kneading your sensitive flesh. “Yeah, you’re just. I’m- yeah,” you really didn’t know where you were going with this answer, hyper aware of his fingers on your skin. “Should I stop?” “No, it feels good. It’s just...” “Weird?” “A little,” you admitted, making both of you chuckle awkwardly. “Maybe a little heat would be good as well.” “Y... Yeah.” You really weren’t sure if even less clothes between Yangyang and you would help with whatever this atmosphere between you two was right now. “Let’s get you up and going then,” your best friend smiled and if it was a little less vibrant than it usually was, you chose to ignore it.

Once you were submerged in the warm water, a blissful sound slipped past your lips and you felt all tension that was left in your body leave you, the jets and the warm water effectively relaxing your body and mind. “You good?” Yangyang quietly asked as he submerged himself right next to you, gently pulling your injured leg onto hip lap to prod at the muscles again. “Yeah,” you sighed and closed your eyes, willing your mind to shut up about how he was just your best friend and it should definitively not feel this good when he was innocently kneading your muscles. As all the tenseness seeped from your body, his fingers got more and more gentle until they all but caressed the soft skin of your thigh.

“Yangyang?” You quietly asked after a while when the only sounds between you came from the bubbling of the water and the occasional sound of a bird. Your best friend just hummed to indicate that he had heard you, his fingers stopping to draw random shapes onto your thigh. “Is it weird that I really want to kiss you right now?” At that your friend seemed to freeze, his thigh muscles tensing up where your leg was thrown onto his lap. “N... No, I don’t think so,” he eventually mumbled. “No?” “No. Because I kind of really want to kiss you as well,” he confessed, his dark eyes finding yours and the amount of trust and openness in his eyes momentarily took your breath away. “Then kiss me,” you breathed. “I- I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he replied but inched closer to you anyways. “It won’t,” you promised, gently cupping your best friend’s jaw and stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. “Promise?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise,” you whispered back before you let your eyes flutter closed when your lips finally met in a delicate kiss, barely more than a gently press of lips.

When you separated again, you sighed gently against his lips before pressing another quick peck to them which made your best friend chuckle. “This feels nice,” he whispered. “Not weird?” You asked just to confirm, gently tracing his features with your fingers. “It feels just right.” “Yeah,” you sighed. “More?” Smiling you nodded and connected your lips again, firmer this time but still gently exploring this new territory. Slowly Yangyang seemed to grow more confident and he let his hands settle on your waist to pull you a little closer to him, causing you to softly gasp. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pressing little kisses to your cheeks and the corners of your mouth until you giggled. “Kiss me,” you demanded, wrapping your arms around his neck so your hands could play with the long strands of his hair before kissing him again. By now you almost sat in his lap, the angle a little weird because of how your leg was still thrown over his lap. But none of you seemed to mind as you took all the time of the world to explore each other’s lips.

After a little while Yangyang broke the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. You couldn’t fight your smile, basking in the feeling of being close to him. This close you could count his eyelashes that were stuck together from the water and admire the blush that sat high on his cheekbones. “I really like you,” Yangyang suddenly confessed, pulling your bodies flush together to hide his face in your neck. “I really like you too,” you giggled, running your hands through his damp hair. “No I mean I like like you. I- I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time,” he mumbled against your skin. With how close you were pushed together, Yangyang must definitely feel how hard and fast your heart was hammering in your chest. What he couldn’t see was the big smile that spread on your lips while you were trying to find the right words to tell him that you felt the same, that he was a very special person to you. “You don’t have to like me back,” he suddenly said, tightening his grip on you, “I know you probably only see me as a friend and nothing else. But if I keep this to myself any longer, I might burst. I just- Please don’t hate me. You’re all I have.”

“Yangyang,” you gently spoke, trying to pry his head from your neck. “I don’t have any courage left to look you in the face as you reject me,” he whined when he wasn’t budging, this grip he had on your waist tightening just a little. “I’m not going to reject you.” “You’re not?” Your best friend immediately straightened up, his face full of surprise. “No,” you chuckled and couldn’t resist to press a quick kiss to his lips, “I think I’m in love with you as well.”

For a while Yangyang didn’t say anything, his mouth just wordlessly hanging open and eyes wide. “I mean it,” you giggled, playfully hitting his shoulder, “Say something, idiot.” “I- I was full on prepared for heartbreak. I didn’t mean to confess until Sunday to not make it awkward. It just. Yeah…” “Why would I reject you?” “You never said anything and whenever I would try to take you out or do something alone with you, you kept inviting the others and simply played my flirting off as a joke.”

Thinking back, you felt like there were scales falling from your eyes when you remembered all the times Yangyang had asked you out to the movies and you had dragged Donghyuck or Renjun with you. Or when you had invited him for movie night and his face fell when he saw Jaemin and Jeno already sitting on your sofa. Or when he had invited you to one of his dance shows and you had marveled about how graceful Ten could dance and he had become all grumpy.

“Holy fuck, I’ve been so oblivious,” you groaned, pillowing your head on his chest that shook with laughter. “I’ll forgive you if you become my girlfriend,” Yangyang gently spoke, combing his hands through your hair. “Yes,” you breathed, your heart fluttering wildly. “Seal it with a kiss?” He didn’t need to say anything else because you quickly pressed your lips together again, hoping Yangyang could feel all your love and you could at least make up for the pain you had caused him.

“Me too,” he whispered against your lips in between kisses, “I love you too, idiot.” “Your idiot,” you grinned. “All mine,” Yangyang smiled brightly. And if you two shared more kisses and sweet giggles beneath the sky in the hot tub next to your cabin, only Mother Nature would know about it.

#yangyang #liu yangyang #wayv #nct #kafenetwork #yangyang fluff #wayv fluff #nct fluff #yangyang imagines #yangyang scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Thurs 18 March ‘21

The Zayn/ Zach Sang interview is happening, for real this time (fingers crossed)! It’s scheduled for tomorrow!! Zach promises to ask lots of NIL questions. And I really believe it’ll happen this time, Zayn OUT THERE doing promo-- he did multiple radio spots yesterday and answered every question thrown his way however stupid, even throwing caution to the wind and taking on the one they’re all always trying to avoid (though not so far to the wind as to choose any of the other options each of which would be a scandal in a different way- you can take the boy out of the media training but...)- “I’ll tell you what,” he said, “Niall is my favorite. How about that? There you go. Niall makes the best music. Yeah I will say that he makes better music than me. Yeah, I’m a Niall fan." About the grammys he said, “It's nothing to do with my own personal gain because even if they nominated me at this stage, I wouldn't even go and accept the award because it doesn't mean anything to me.”

Zayn talked about how he just wanted to do a song with Ingrid, he didn’t know what, “I didn’t expect it to be anything less than great but it was better than that… it hit the nail on the head” and “the fact that it’s an important message in the song makes it better.” He also said that he listens to a lot of country music and would really like to collab with Chris Stapleton. OKAY! TBH I can hear how that makes sense- amazing, I am manifesting this, come on universe! He also said that he will have new music this year in an old school R&B style though and that he would like to do live shows after the pandemic!! If I didn’t think he was just saying things I would be LOSING MY MIND right now but omg WHAT IF?? He said Khai is an easy baby, a good sleeper and eater, that he likes singing to her, and that Gigi is a “wicked mom” and “a big help,” LMAO (RIP Zayn, strangled by his baby mama). RCA posted a couple more gorgeous new Zayn pics, and Ingrid raves about how Zayn’s fans are “the sweetest most supportive people” and she feels “like I’ve been hugged by a million stars today.” Am I to understand that it’s possible for stans to treat a woman working with their fave with kindness?? My mind is REELING!

Hopefully Harry has had enough time to process having achieved a great industry honor, because yesterday brought another- he was on Beyonce’s insta! She included a picture of the two of them talking backstage in her big grammys wrap up post (plus he’s visible behind her in a shot of her winning- say what you will about the orange jacket it’s great for visibility!) And Lil NasX, perfect as always, has something to say about Harry too- he says “stop using me as a bait against harry styles. I love harry, if y’all fw what I wear say it without mentioning him,” and posts a couple examples of the types of tweets he means such as “we have GOT to stop acting like Harry Styles is a male fashion icon when lil nas x is right there.” Stop pitting girls against each other2k21! Nas gets it, bless him. Oh yeah and an old pap video from DWD set of Harry going into Olivia’s trailer posted which I ignored because it was so completely uninteresting but apparently that’s a BIG DEAL to some people. My bad! You’re so right, the only reason someone would possibly go into a room with a coworker is obviously that they’re fucking! They probably had sex right there while the paps were outside! I mean there were a bunch of other people visibly in the trailer too but whatever. Oh and as long as we’re doing nonsense catch up- he was seen with a FEMALE in Malibu the other night omgggg they’re clearly dating. Oh but actually it might have been Mitch! LMAO, but that’s okay we can have discourse about how they’re obviously fucking anyway cause like… dinner! TOGETHER!! The scandal.

Anyway Louis has a message for us, can you guess what it is? Yes that’s right-- “Hope everyone's doing alright!!” No matter how many times he says it, I still love the hello, thanks love (even if it was an afterthought and he was actually there to follow a crypto currency trading account). A bunch of old videos of him were posted today, including one from 2019 where Louis says about acting in his music videos “I wasn’t acting it’s who I am hahahaha” (ahhhhh I miss that laugh) and he’s on the wall of a THIRD MUSEUM! Louis is Art pt lll-- A Doncaster history timeline at the local museum has a big entry for Doncaster’s finest export, labeled “Louis Tomlinson Achieves Super Stardom”! Earlier entries were his face (hung up high) in the National Portrait Gallery and the science museum employee who saw their chance and took it by crediting a mushroom joke to him, a deep Video Diaries reference in the year of 2019; whoever that unknown louie is I hope they are having a very nice day every day, what a hero.

And a photodump from Zayn’s favorite member of OT4! Labeled DUMP (charming thank you) Niall posts an assortment of selfies (that sunglasses one! Ashe agrees, commenting “photo number four thank you very much”) and aesthetic pics and one tiny snippet of a piano tune, and speaking of photodumps from favorites of Zayn’s, a BUNCH of outtakes from Liam’s Grinder Tetu photoshoot just got posted and if I were a gay man I’m pretty sure I would have just had a heart attack, view with care they should probably be PG13.

#zayn #Niall Horan #Liam payne #louis tomlinson #Harry styles #the way Zayn is doing more promo for this song than he did for his album right? it looks to be organized by ingrid’s people #I realize the fandom conclusion from this is that it’s proof that his own label is fucking him over and that’s not impossible #it could be why. it could also be that it isn’t what he himself chooses to do but when he’s on someone else’s turf #he doesn’t get to make the call about what the promo strategy is or even that the timing is just better for him #but like there was one interview where they were like we don't know if we're getting ingrid or zayn! We'll see!#so you can tell it's a joint thing #18 mar 21 #ziall!!!!!#ziall rise 2k21 #zach sang #louis as art

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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Fairy Ring (Kurogiri x Reader)

Summary: You enter the realm of Faerie despite every instinct telling you not to, in order to save the life of your sick sister. But you make a mistake far greater than you can even imagine when you catch the attention of a truly powerful, dangerous Fae. Pairing: Fae Kurogiri x Reader Rating: Explicit+ Warnings: Fantasy AU. Noncon, dubcon, aphrodisiac, drugging, manipulation, coercion, stalking, yandere. Word Count: 5.5k Note: My entry for the BNHarem Discord collab! The theme this time around was fantasy AU, and I stepped out of my usual characters by trying Kurogiri. The full masterlist can be found here, so make sure you check out the fics from all of Special Note: Thank you to @thewheezingwyvern for being my fae lore expert, I could not have done it without you. And also for talking me through 7AM induced sleep delirium.

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This is a mistake, you know this. This is, in fact, one of the biggest mistakes you may ever make in your lifetime, assuming that you live past what you’re about to do. But you know that you have no choice. Your sister’s life depends on it. And for her, you would do anything.

And so with a deep breath, you step into the fairy circle. You feel a tugging at the core of your being before white hot agony lances through your bones. You think you scream, but you can’t be sure as you briefly lose consciousness.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It feels like hours before your eyes open again, but in all likelihood it was mere minutes. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that it worked.

You’re in the Realm of the Fae now.

There’s a sense of unreality, a haze that makes you feel like you’re dreaming. Everything seems too bright, colors that don’t seem like they should exist in the real world, and what looks to be a purple mist covering everything you can see.

You’re standing in an open clearing, right on the edge of a large forest. Behind you, there is a large lake that looks so inviting that you just know something is lurking below the surface, waiting to pull you under, never to be seen again.

The forest doesn’t look much better, trees so close together that it feels claustrophobic, making it very hard to see anything that would approach you. You have no idea what kinds of things might be lurking inside, but this might be your best bet to find the specific plant you need to cure your sister.

And then there is the swamp that you see in the distance. The mud looks thick and deep, as if it would suck you right down into it so that you can do nothing but wait to die. The fog is so dense that you doubt you’d be able to see much beyond the reach of your arm, and in the depths of it you see pretty, flashing lights.

Will-o'-the-wisps, spirits that deliberately lead travelers off the paths to their deaths. If you go into that swamp, you worry you’ll never leave, doomed to wander around without ever finding the path back out.

Before you can come to a decision of where to go, you hear a strange whooshing noise behind you. You turn around to see something totally unexpected. A purple opening rimmed with black around the edges appears in the air as someone steps out of it. A portal, you realize, and so this must be -

He’s a very tall, slender being wearing a well tailored and expensive looking suit. But where a human face and hands should be is a swirling purple mist instead, leaving you no idea of what he looks like underneath. He has piercing yellow eyes that seem to bore right into the very core of your being.

“Welcome, human. May I ask what brings you to Faerie? We have very few of your kind coming here, and even less who come willingly.” The Fae speaks in a perfectly polite tone, but you know that doesn’t mean you can let down your guard. Everything and everyone here needs to be treated as dangerous.

“Greetings,” you nod politely. “I am here for a certain plant that I need to find.”

“Hmm, I may be able to help you find such a plant. What’s your name, human?”

Ah, you think to yourself, the very first trap the Fae intend to set for you. You know what can happen when you give a Fae your true name, and you have no intention of falling for this one.

“You can call me the Seeker.”

The Fae’s eyes seem to glimmer with amusement. “Cautious, are you? Very well then. I am called Kurogiri.”

He parrots your phrasing back at you, which means that it’s not his true name either, and nothing you can use against him.

“If you don’t wish to deal with me, then by all means, continue.” He takes a simple step away before motioning to the forest. “Were you intending to go into the forest? I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

The fact that he is deliberately leading you into a certain direction makes you reconsider where you intended to go. He notices your hesitance and gives a soft laugh. “I am not leading you astray, human. The forest is treacherous, and that you can be sure of.”

You ponder your options for a brief moment, before deciding to listen. At least with the swamp, you know one of the dangers you’ll face right off the bat. With the forest, there is no way to tell what you’ll stumble across. “I believe I will take the swamp, actually.” You give him a respectful nod as you take a few steps away from him.

“Please, be my guest.” He motions you in the direction of the swamp. You keep him in your sights as you walk past, worried that he’ll attempt something when your back is turned. But he makes no move to follow or stop you, and so you turn your back to him completely as you take your first steps into the swamp.

It’s very slow going, as the muck is so deep that you have to stop to pull your shoes out every few steps. The will o'wisps are hovering around everywhere, looking like delicate, beautiful lights showing you the way out. It’s a deception that you don’t let yourself be lulled into, deliberately choosing the paths where it is darker. Your world narrows down to simply taking a few steps, clawing your way out of the mud, looking for the plant you need, taking a few more steps, over and over. But nothing ever seems to change, and you seem to be getting no deeper into the swamp.

Finally, you can move no further, and so you stop to catch your breath. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and covered in mud and brackish water. You find a nearby tree to lean against and close your eyes for several seconds, trying to take deep breaths in and deep breaths out to calm your racing heart.

But when you open your eyes again, the wisps have surrounded you completely. There is no clear path anymore, the entire swamp cast with brilliant purple light as they fly around the area. You try to think back to the way things looked before you took a break, but everything is hazy in your mind.

You’re lost, with no idea which path to take to get out of this swamp, or even go back the way you came. Picking a random direction sounds like a horrible idea, but standing here and doing nothing sounds even worse. So with a deep breath, you pick a path and start to follow it.

Everything seems fine at first, passing through terrain not as difficult to traverse, but it quickly becomes apparent that this was not the correct way when you hit a patch of deep, thick mud and begin to sink in. You let out a startled shout, trying to claw for purchase, something to stop your head from being pulled under. But there is nothing, no way to get yourself out. Just as only your head and raised arms are visible, you feel something grab your wrist and begin to yank.

The strength behind it is unbelievable, and you’re out within seconds and looking at the face of your rescuer. The Fae Kurogiri is very hard to read, but you think he seems to be laughing at you.

“You seem to have lost your way, little Seeker,” he muses as he raises his arms up. You’re surprised when you feel a solid pressure against your cheek, running down along your jawline to cup your face. “Why not simply give in and make a deal with me? I could tell you where this plant is, easily.”

“And what would your price be?” You stare into those yellow eyes, a challenging tone in your voice.

“That would depend on exactly what you’re willing to give up, now wouldn’t it? Let us leave this swamp and we can discuss price and terms.”

Alarm bells ring in your head at his words. There is something very off about this Fae, something telling you that making a deal with him would be to your detriment. Maybe it’s his overly polite tone that seems to hide darkness underneath. Maybe it’s the fact that he is still gripping your face, pulling you tightly against him in a possessive hold that makes you feel like he never wants to let you go.

He must see your refusal in your expression, because his grip against you tightens imperceptibly before finally releasing you and stepping away. He makes a motion behind you, and you turn to see a portal opening up, with a view of the clearing that you came from on the other side.

You make a move to go through the portal before realizing something. Your backpack that you have been carrying with you this entire time is gone. You glance around quickly in all directions until you see the very top part of it sink completely within the muck that almost did the same to you. All of your supplies were in there, including the most important thing of all.

Your food and water.

Kurogiri lets out a deep chuckle at your panic. “Ahh, I see you lost your supplies. I could help you with that, as well.”

Your eyes meet his yellow ones as you narrow them. “You saw my backpack sinking, didn’t you?”

His silence is answer enough, and you shake your head and turn towards the still open portal. You go through it with him close behind and find yourself exactly where you expected to. Right at the beginning.

Remembering his words about the forest, you glance over at the massive lake and the faint sign of land on the other side. Your instincts scream at you that there is something horrific lurking within the forest, but you also really don’t want to swim.

“Before you go, you may want to hydrate yourself. The lake’s water is poisonous for humans such as yourself to drink.”

He holds a water bottle out towards you, and you simply cross your arms. “You must believe I’m incredibly stupid if you think I intend to drink that.”

“You will not believe me, but I am simply trying to help you. I don’t want to see you injured or wanting for a single thing.”

You glance back down at the bottle of water. It really does look good, you think to yourself. And you realize now how very thirsty you are. Would it be so bad if you took the water? You snap yourself back to reality before you can reach for the bottle, taking several steps back. “That is a kind gesture, but I must decline.”

You’re at the water’s edge now, glancing over to the land you see on the other side. You know of too many dangers that can lurk within bodies of water, and you have all but decided to skip the lake altogether when you see it. A beautiful looking flower on the other side, That could be it, you think to yourself, and it doesn’t look too far to attempt the long way around.

You begin to walk around the shore’s edge, not getting very far before your curiosity gets the better of you. You glance back at the clearing to see if Kurogiri is there or not. But he’s already gone, like he was never standing there at all

You turn back and continue to follow alongside the shoreline, setting a slow but steady pace so as not to wear yourself out. You’re not out of shape by any means, but you still don’t want to push yourself overmuch. As you walk, you try not to discourage yourself by staring at the land you’re heading for.

With the sun beating down on you and sweat pouring from your face, you truly begin to regret the choice of not taking the water Kurogiri offered. It could really be of use right now, with your tongue feeling like sandpaper in your mouth. Even worse, you’re starting to feel dizzy, occasionally stumbling forward before regaining your balance at the last second. Things are still fine, you try to reassure yourself, but you realize the extent of the trouble you’re in when you glance to the other side of the lake. You must have been walking for what feels like hours, and it’s not a single bit closer.

You turn back towards the direction you came from, only to have a moment of horror when you realize that you don’t see it. To that side is nothing but open shoreline as far as you can see. How could the land behind you have disappeared completely? You finally lose your calm, beginning to panic as you start to run, hoping that you’ll reach your destination soon. You only succeed in wearing yourself out even further, forced to stop as you pant for breath.

But that’s when you see the flower from earlier, looking even closer than you thought. That’s it, you think to yourself in elation, that has to be the plant you’re looking for. It isn’t so much farther, you could easily make it. But as you begin to walk again, your head swims even more, going completely hazy. You sway on your feet, barely keeping yourself up. When you open them again, there’s a horse standing by the side of the water.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? To ride the horse, get the plant, and then get back to the clearing where you started? It would be so quick, so easy. And then all of this would be over, your sister would be cursed, everything would be fine -

You come to your senses seconds too late to stop yourself from grabbing the horse. Well, not a horse anymore, at least not really.

It’s a Kelpie. Travelers have always been told to avoid Kelpie near the water, so as not to be pulled down into the depths. And you just grabbed onto the back of one.

You try and pull your hand off the creature, but it’s too late. Your hand won’t budge and you have a moment to curse your stupidity before you’re dragged into the water. Despite your best efforts not to panic, you still do, accidentally taking gulps of water into your burning lungs as you jerk and kick in an attempt to get away.

You’re going to drown, you think to yourself as you thrash about in the water, you’re going to drown and there is nothing that you can do about it, all because of your own stupidity -

Just when you think you’re going to drown, everything stops. You’re suddenly laying on solid ground, choking and sputtering as you take gasping breaths. You lay there for a few long minutes, simply gathering your bearings before you glance up at your rescuer. You know who it’s going to be, and you are proven correct as you see Kurogiri’s towering form lowering down beside you. He pets the back of your head, as if you were a dog that needs comforted, and coos soothing words at you.

“You’re okay, my little seeker.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “You truly should have known better than to try and ride a Kelpie. I can protect you, you know. Just talk to me for a bit, and I’m sure we can make a mutually beneficial agreement.”

You fly up from the ground, wrenching yourself a bit away from him. “No agreement,” you shake your head. “You want something from me, and I can’t figure out what.”

Kurogiri gives a long sigh. “I tire of this game. Things will go so much better for you if you let me help youl. But don’t misunderstand me. You will make the deal, one way or the other. So you may as well give in to me now, my little human.”

His demeanor has become different than before, more impatient and more annoyed. All of the alarm bells in your head are ringing, and you find yourself running towards the forest before he can say anything else. You are instantly surrounded by thick foliage, and as you glance back into the clearing to see if you’re being followed, the Fae and the portal are both gone.

You push through little by little, making your way deeper into the forest. Occasionally you have to make your way backwards to find another way forward, as the way is blocked by trees or thick vegetation that doesn’t quite look right.

You hope the instinct that you’re being led a particular way is wrong. But you have learned to trust your instincts, especially when it comes to the Fae. So when you emerge suddenly into another open clearing with Sluagh flying around, you’re not overly surprised.

You are, however, terrified.

The Sluagh are well known for their sadism, said to be feared by even Death itself. They are skeletal looking, so thin that there is barely any meat on their bones. What skin they have is dangling and loose, and their legs end in talons with razor sharp claws. Their mouths smile at you, filled with rows and rows of vicious, sharp teeth.

And right now, every single one of them is staring at you like you’re a delicious meal, waiting to be devoured. You know it’s useless to run, as they will find you even more enticing if they are able to chase you down. So you simply stay stock still, waiting to see what the creatures do and desperately hoping that they’ll get bored of you and fly away. But of course, that’s not in the cards for you.

In unison, they let out a shriek that sounds like nails down a chalkboard, causing you to cover your ears in agony. At least five of them rush you at once, and you brace yourself for the pain. But it doesn’t come, as the creatures lock their talons into your clothes instead and begin to lift you into the air.

Fuck, you hiss to yourself, you knew this may be suicidal to go into Faerie. You have faced so many of Faerie’s challenges and only survived by the help of one of them, and you knew it must only be a matter of time before your luck ran out. But you had no idea it would end this way, to be lifted up and dashed on the hard ground below. You squeeze your eyes closed when you feel them let you go, and you brace for an impact that never comes. Instead, you hear the distinctive whooshing sound before and fall into the arms of Kurogiri.

“I did tell you not to go that way, didn’t I?” His voice has a dark amusement to it, and you realize instantly that he knew the Sluagh were there and didn’t think to warn you directly.

“Yes, you did. And your assistance is appreciated,” you say carefully, fully aware that this is yet another trap. You never tell one of the Fae thank you, as they can take that to mean any number of things you’re suddenly obligated to do for them.

“You are welcome, my little seeker,” he chuckles to himself, sounding every bit like he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Will you accept my deal now? I can help your sister if you would only allow me.”

You squirm a bit in his arms, fully hoping that he gets the hint and puts you down, but he squeezes down as if he never wants to let you go. The thought worries you, there is one thing that worries you even more.

He knows the plant is to cure your sister. And you never gave him that information.

“I - I will think about it, if you’ll kindly let me go - “

“Ah, of course.” He sets you down on your own feet, and you finally get a chance to look around. He teleported you back into the same clearing where you started from and keep managing to return to. “Now, about the deal -”

Before he can finish his sentence, you are running in the only direction that you have yet to try. It’s another smaller section of forest that you hadn’t considered because it looked impenetrable. But now you see a way to enter, and you flee there without glancing back. The trees there seem to suck you in, darkness enveloping you. You wonder if he’s still somehow watching you before shaking the idea from your head. That way lie madness, and right now you must run, must hide.

You don’t know how long you run, only that your legs almost like rubber, barely able to carry you anymore. Your breath comes out in gasping pants as your lungs struggle to take in more oxygen. And your head is spinning, most likely from your lack of food.

Just as you’re about to reach your limit, you spot a large, wrought iron gate and a large house beyond. You don’t have any time to consider the implications before you’re rushing through the gate, stopping only long enough to lock it before you reach for your last resort. You’re not sure why there’s an iron gate here, as iron is one of the things that the Fae are joined together in their hatred of. But right not, you don’t care as long as it can protect you.

Just as you suspected, Kurogiri portals to the location just outside of where you stand. But rather than be deterred by the iron, he lets out a loud chuckle as he continues to walk to the gate. Your eyes widen as he gets closer and closer, a sense of deep unease crawling up your spine.

The Fae hate iron, you tell yourself, he’s simply bluffing, he’s not going to be able to get past the gate. And then the lock simply drops away, as if it’s nothing. The gates slowly slide open as he walks through, and there seems to be a look of true admiration in his eyes.

“That was a very good try, my little human. But ultimately, you lose our game.”

It all clicks into place at once. “You - you’re a dullahan,” you whisper in fear. The dullahan are widely feared, and for good reason. They are harbingers of death, and it is said that when they stop, a mortal dies.

“Yes, I am. And now there is nowhere for you to run. Simply give in to me”

You realize you have one single card left to play, and if this doesn’t work, then you are done for. You reach into your back pocket where you stowed your ring before entering the swamp earlier. You hold it up to him to see, and smile when you see him recoil from the gold metal. You turn and begin running again while he’s distracted, only to run face first into a portal he opened back up.

When you fall out of this portal, you are no longer in Faerie. It looks like home, just as when you left it before. Nothing appears different, except for one big thing. Your sister is out of bed, looking like she’s never been sick a day in her life.

“Is that - sis, is that really you?” You whisper in shock at seeing your sister, healthy and happy before you.

Your sister gives you a warm smile as she holds her arms out for you, just like she always did when you were kids. You grin and run into them, giving her a tight hug that you don’t ever want to be let out of.

“I don’t understand, I didn’t actually make a deal.”

Your sister gives her characteristic shrug. “I don’t know either, I just know that I felt something really warm come over my body, and suddenly I felt better.”

It must be Kurogiri’s doing, you think to yourself. You have no idea what you did to earn this, or maybe it was just that he was impressed you beat him at his own game? Either way, you won’t take it for granted. “How long have I been gone?”

“Too long. I was so worried about you, I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” She pulls you into another hug, and you smile as you run your hand down the back of her head. The moment is ruined by the sound of your stomach growling, causing you both to laugh. “Bit hungry, there?” She teases you, and you simply grin.

“Yeah, I ran out of the supplies I took to Faerie and then I lost my whole backpack. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had anything, to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you something!” Your sister runs off the kitchen to grab you some food. “Um, I’m sorry that we don’t have much, but -”

“I know, you haven’t been able to go to the store without me. It’s okay!” You take the simple sandwich she offers you, wasting no time at all before you’re devouring it. You didn’t realize how truly hungry you were until right this second. And this is easily the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. You freeze, blood running cold as you hear an amused chuckle from beside you, where your sister was just standing. A decidedly male chuckle.

You look down at the mostly eaten sandwich as you begin to tremble, dawning horror hitting you like a freight train. Beside you, what you thought was your sister has turned into Kurogiri. What you thought was your home has turned into that same damnable clearing.

Despite your best efforts, you were tricked after all. You never truly left Faerie.

And you just ate fairy fruit.

He pulls your trembling body tightly into his as he runs a hand down the small of your back. “My little seeker, don’t feel too bad about this. You did a rather good job of avoiding my tricks. I had to resort to more extreme measures.”

A tear runs down your face as he strokes your body. Forcing you to eat fairy fruit means that you’re trapped here with him now, forever. Completely defeated, you numbly allow him to lead you through the newly open portal, taking you to the house with the large gates. The place where you believed you won this little game, only to realize that he was always one step ahead of you.

“But the gold -,” you whisper, “I had the gold, why didn’t that work?”

He laughs a bit as he kisses you. You’re surprised that he’s able to, but you assume he must have some form of human body underneath the mist. “Not all myths are true, little seeker.”

He takes you into the house, leading you down several corridors until you reach a bedroom. He leads you in, shutting the door behind him. You have only a second to worry before he’s on you. Lips run down your neck as hands come down to grip your ass. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I’ve planned this.”

He rips your clothes off easily, piece by piece, until you’re shivering and naked before him. He lays you down on the bed, sliding his tongue skillfully into your mouth and massaging yours with his own. His hands aren’t idle either, tracing up and down your body in featherlight touches that has you writhing.

Everything seems almost dreamy, and you feel very warm. Overly warm, in fact, and it only increases the more he touches you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your head spinning. You wonder briefly what he did to you, if it was the faerie fruit you ate.

“What did you do to me,” you whine as you continue to squirm on the bed, fire raging through your veins. “I feel - god I feel so hot, make it stop.”

But when his tongue licks up your heated, dripping pussy, you realize that it really doesn’t matter what the answer to that question is. You throw your head back and moan as you try to grind down on his tongue, and you feel rather than hear his laughter as it sends pleasurable vibrations against your throbbing clit.

“Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards and grazing against a spot inside you that has you throwing your head back onto the pillow.

“Yes,” you whimper, sounding more needy than you ever have in your life, “please make me feel good.”

“Your name then, little human. I can’t very well pleasure someone whose name I do not know, wouldn’t you say?”

“But what about yours?”

“You give me yours first,” he sounds so imminently reasonable that you give him a blissed out smile as you nod your head. You make a come hither motion with your index finger and he leans in closer as you whisper your name in his ear, and he gives a contented laugh as he works his fingers inside of you again.

“You didn’t tell me yours,” you whine a bit in protest.

“Mmm, I am Kurogiri, remember?”

You do remember him saying that, but you also remember not believing that to be his true name. But that part seems less important than him working his fingers inside again, and you let out a small gasp as you clench down, only to be left feeling empty when he completely withdraws. You’re about to complain when you hear him unbuckling his belt.

“I would much rather feel you cum around this cock,” he whispers as he sinks into your aching pussy, filling you up completely when he bottoms out inside. You let out a deep groan at the stretch, and the burning sensation you’ve been feeling since you ate the fruit abates just a bit.

And then he begins to move, and desire flares back up inside you. It doesn’t take long for your muscles to tense up, toes curling as you squeal when your orgasm overtakes you. “So sensitive,” he whispers as he simply fucks you through it, groaning when he feels you clamp down around him. “And so needy for me. It makes me want to keep you like this all the time, my pet. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you feel another orgasm building up, “Kurogiri, please keep fucking me, it feels so good.”

”My good little pet,” he grabs your hand and guides it to your throbbing clit. “Stroke that clit for me.”

You instantly obey, moaning loudly as you begin to rub tight circles on the swollen bead. You clench down around him as you cum again, liquid gushing out to soak the bed beneath you. His movements slow as he reaches his own end, filling you up with hot ropes of cum before instantly getting hard as he begins to fucki you again.

You lose all sense of time, only aware of the burning desire, and the twitching and thrusting of Kurogiri’s cock as he fills you up again and again. You can’t seem to stop cumming either, pushed beyond your limits and blissed out until finally all you can do is lay there and take it as he continues to ravage you.

Finally it’s over, and he collapses beside you as he pulls your back into his chest. “My precious little pet,” he whispers into the back of your neck. “I worked so hard to get you where you are now, into the realm of Fae where I could claim you.”

“And now you’re mine. Forever.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @shigaraki-is-my-master, @kittycatkrissa, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @reinawritesbnham @sawamooora, @yanderart

#kurogiri x reader #kurogiri smut #yandere kurogiri #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #yandere mha #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: kidnapping #tw: aphrodisiac #tw: drugging #bnharem collab

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all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Tricks & Treats

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Orion’s Halloween is quickly turning rotten until someone helps to turn her day around with a few sweet treats.

Warnings: N/A Unless you count a disgusting amount of fluff to be a warning.

A/N: A new Astrophile drabble! This is set in the very far future, Halloween 2042. Orion is 27 and it’s just the kiddos. No Beck or Bucky. This does have some bits (okay a lot of bits) of the the shared Price of Astrophile universe collab with Tara and if you haven’t read The Price of Gold you need to! Thank you to my beautiful @moonbeambucky for looking it over for me. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

Halloween 2042

Today has been a disaster. A complete and utter nightmare. It started with spilling hot tea all over her copy of Star Lore and down the front of her favorite skirt, which forced Ori to settle for the little black number Cassie bought her as a Halloween costume. It’s supposed to be a cat but it’s really a dress accompanied by cat ears. It’s not that it’s awful, it’s not her usual taste. It’s a simple spaghetti strap dress, sweetheart necklace that doesn’t dip too low and cut just above her knee. As far as Halloween costumes go it’s fairly modest but it’s a little tight compared to the rest of Ori’s closet.

Little did she know that was just the beginning to her terrible day. This was the first day in months that Ori was running the store on her own. No mom to fall back on. Not that it hasn’t happened before. At fourteen Ori was working the floor by herself so none of this was new but, today has been a nightmare from the moment the doors opened. It was unusually busy for a holiday, especially Halloween. It wasn’t often that the store was packed with customers on a day like today and there were moments when Ori began to feel claustrophobic with the amount of people filling the tiny shop.

Half of the morning was spent on decorating the window display for a new series that was set to be released at the beginning of November. The copies were scheduled to be delivered today, but they never showed and when Ori called to check on their status, the man she was unlucky enough to be put in contact with screamed at her, explaining that it was a holiday and not everyone spent their lives working.

It was one of those days where she wished she was ten years old again and Bucky could swoop in and save the day.

By some miracle, there was a lull, and she was able to slip behind the counter where her phone is kept when she’s working the floor alone. She swiped away the missed calls from Cassie and ignored the texts from Leo. There was only one person who knew how to calm the swirling mess in her head right now and she knows how pathetic she looks, twenty-seven, and tears swimming in her eyes. She didn’t care because just hearing his voice would help settle her. Theo’s voice rang her ear and as happy as she was to hear it, part of her wished it wasn’t his voicemail.

“H-hey,” Ori’s voice cracked, she cleared her throat ridding it of the tears choking her. “I know you’re at work. I’m sorry I’m calling. Please tell me I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m so sorry if I did. I just… I needed to hear your voice. I’m having a really awful day. That party with Cassie is tonight. I don’t want to go even though Cassie says it will be fun. And this new series. This stupid dumb shipment. They said they would be here today and I spent all morning doing the window display between the mad rush of customers by the way, they never showed. When I called to check in they said they can’t get here because it’s a holiday and well, they yelled at me. Now, I have to find something to replace the window display and spend another hour fixing what I did this morning. The store is so incredibly busy. I haven’t even stopped for lunch. I’m hungry and tired and I hate this day. Great. Now, I’m whining. Did I mention that I miss you? Well, I do and-”

“Ma'am?” A deep voice grabs Ori’s attention and she turns around to find a man in a UPS shirt standing behind the counter, she smiles as kindly as she can and pulls the phone away from her mouth to answer him, “I’m so sorry. Can I help you?”

“We have your delivery.”

Ori can feel the color drain from her face. She shouldn’t have that many boxes and the publisher on the clipboard being handed to her isn’t right.

“Wait… No. No, I didn’t order that. That’s not mine-”

“Orion Barnes?”

“Well, yes that’s me but,” She sighs, holding back the whimper that’s threatening to escape her. “Can you hold on just one second?"

Ori didn’t wait for his okay like she normally would have, she stepped towards her office and put the phone back up to her ear, “I guess my terrible, awful, no good day isn’t over. Talk to you soon? I hope.”

Orion had her eyes glued to a stack of invoices in front of her when the bell above the shop door rang. Thankfully, she was able to clear up the whole shipping mixup, but dealing with that set her even further behind inventory. It didn’t matter much. She knew who it was without having to raise her head. Ori didn’t have to look up to know her sister had arrived. Cassie skipped nearly everywhere, she has since she was old enough to walk and between the jingling of the bracelets on her wrist, the massive keyring on her purse, and the bells on her shoes (that had nothing to do with Halloween) it was easy to know when she arrived. The jingling came to a stop next to Ori, and a slight nudge to her hip that made Ori look up from the papers in her hand to find Cassie handing over a small brown paper bag from the bakery next door. Ori narrows her eyes at the gesture. Is she trying to butter her up about the party tonight?

“What’s this?”

“Cinnamon bagel from next door,” Cassie said with a certain self-satisfied taunt to her voice. “A certain boy texted me and said you hadn’t eaten today and asked if I could bring you something when I come by to pick you up for tonight."

Ori beams brightly as she peeks in the bag, avoiding her baby sister'’ suspicious and slightly giddy gaze.

“Question. Why is Theo texting me about your food needs and how does he know about tonight?”

She doesn’t answer, but this isn’t unusual. Like Bucky, Ori’s softer, gentler when it comes to revealing things close to her heart. There are some secrets she’s not ready for the world (or herself) to know yet. Cassie on the other hand is loud, in all things, but especially with what’s written on her heart. She loves just as deeply as Ori does but she’s quick to shout it from the rooftops, without a hint of fear.

Ori wishes she could be like that sometimes.

“Something is up. I can tell by the smile you’re trying to hide!”

"I’m smiling because I was hungry and it was very thoughtful of you both.”

Ori finally gets a look at Cassie’s costume when Cassie sheds her coat and she can’t help the surprised laugh that slips out. She’s in a white cotton dress that looked like it was made from one of those adult onesies, covered in glitter from head to toe and the rainbow leggings she has on matches the tail sticking out of the bottom of her coat and the mane on her hood she has pushed down.

“What are you wearing?!”

“What? I’m a sparkly unicorn. I look adorable!”

Ori grins.

“Yes, you do. You look beautiful.”

The bell chimes again and Ori greets her brother without looking, he’s never far behind Cassie after all. Leo looked pretty much like he always does, slacks and a button-up white collared shirt under his coat but he was wearing black square-frame glasses. He leans over the mahogany counter and presses a kiss on Ori’s cheek. Whatever Cassie was hoping to get out of Ori would never happen now that Leo was present. Ori laughed at the pout on Cassie’s face, picking at the bagel as she scans over the invoice in front of her.

“Ready for tonight?” Leo asks as he steals a piece of her bagel.

Ori shrugs a little, glancing at the clock and sighed when she saw it was nearing six. They would be pushing her out the door soon. It’s not that she didn’t like going out, she did. Things have been off lately and she hasn’t felt much like socializing, which is why her siblings insisted they have a party. If it turns out to be as terrible as she predicts it’s going to be, she can always call Bucky to pick her up because no matter what Bucky still drops everything to come to her rescue whenever she needs it.

“It’s going to be fun!”

“I guess. I’m not really a party person.”

“I know but you make the cutest cat ever.”

Leo’s brow furrows and the worry on his face has him looking so much like Bucky it almost makes Ori laugh.

“You’ve been working a lot. Skipping family stuff. When was the last time you came to family dinner and didn’t rush out the door? Mom said you’re working more hours than she is-”

“I should! She deserves time with dad and it’s not like I have a life waiting on me right now.”

It’s been a little over a year since she called off her wedding and ended things with Cole and while she’s happy that relationship has ended, she’s nowhere near where she thought she would be at her age. She had plans and lists, milestones she promised herself she would hit by a certain age and now she’s… floating. No purpose. No real path. Simply riding her mother’s coattails, managing a store she wouldn’t have without her mother and she has no idea where she’s going or what her future is going to look like. It’s terrifying. So maybe she’s been spending a little more time at work to keep her mind busy. Sometimes it doesn't quite calm the chaos in her head, but staying busy helps.

“That’s not true. You have us and, yeah, mom deserves a break but so do you. We thought it would be good to get out of the house. If you hate it I’ll bring you home.”

Ori smiles. Leo has always been their protector, ready to jump in and save his mom and sisters from anything that could cause them the slightest bit of discomfort. She couldn't be aggravated with him for wanting to help, he’s only following in Bucky’s footsteps.

“Yeah, okay. Today has been a mess. Give me a few minutes to wrap things up, okay?”

She’s barely had time for her eyes to focus on the words in front of her when Cassie chirps from her side, “The window display is a mess. What happened there?”

“Cassie!”

“I’m just saying. Want me to help you fix it tomorrow?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Ori snatches the brown bag with her bagel resting on top and heads back towards the office in hopes she will be able to focus there, “and yes. I would like help. Thank you.”

“I’ll watch the desk!” Cassie shouts behind her, getting an appreciative smile from Ori. The quiet doesn’t last long. The shop bell is ringing and Cassie is yelling for her before she’s managed to make it through one invoice.

“Ori! Get out here. There’s a delivery.” Cassie’s shouts are piercing her ears and she’s certain the entire bakery next door can hear her clear as day. Ori steps back out onto the sales floor, frowning and having every intention of reminding Cassie not to scream in the store, but she can’t because she’s staring at the largest bundle of lavender she’s ever seen.

“I-- this. What is this?”

“They are for you!” Cassie squeals but quickly stops smiling and looks at the older gentleman who is wearing a warm smile when he confirms that they are indeed for her sister.

“Yes, ma’am,” The man says with a chuckle, “If you’re Orion Barnes. These are for you.”

He passes the delicate bundle wrapped in brown paper in her arm and passes over a pen for her signature. She quickly scribbles her name and pulls the small white card out of the twine, grinning foolishly at what’s written.

“Who are they from?” Cassie begs, jumping up and down. “I already know but I need to see the card myself.”

Ori presses the card to her chest to keep Cassie from sneaking a peek, she’s not willing to share a bit of the sweetness written there. Cassie quickly gives up on the card and snatches the receipt before Ori can grab it, finding exactly what she was looking for.

“Theo Tucker! I knew it!”

The thin paper is pulled from Cassie’s hand by Leo, who is staring at the receipt with a deep frown as if he can’t process what he is seeing.

“Why is Theo sending you flowers? Where did he find a place that delivers lavender like that? More importantly… why is Theo sending you flowers?"

Ori can’t answer her brother, she’s too busy grinning like a fool and hiding her blushing cheeks behind the soft purple sprigs in her arms.

“What do you mean ‘Why is Theo sending her flowers?’ Because he loves her. Am I the only that’s been paying attention?”

"He loves you. It's the same thing and you don’t get flowers.”

“It is a hundred percent not the same thing, Leo.”

There’s the faint sound of the twins arguing in the background, “How is it different?” “Leo you can’t be serious. You’ve seen the way he looks at her!” She should probably stop their bickering but she can’t. She can’t focus on anything, not while she’s daydreaming about California.

Maybe it wasn’t the worst day, after all.

“So, are you going to wear a sprig of lavender as your catnip? Seems like it added a little spring in your step.”

“Cassie!”

Cassie had squealed when Ori asked her to draw a cat nose and whiskers on her face. If she was going to dress as a cat she had to go all out. The ears, while cute, weren’t enough to satisfy the perfectionist in her. Before they left her apartment, she sent Theo a thank you text and a picture of her all dressed up. The simple response, you look beautiful, makes her stomach flip and leaves her head spinning. It drops a fraction when Leo asks why she’s smiling at her phone with such a goofy grin.

No one is ready for that answer, so she tucked her phone in her purse for now.

The minute they arrived, Leo stepped through the front door and pulled his shirt open to reveal a giant S stitched onto his blue undershirt and he proceeded to do several more times throughout the night. Despite her reservations about the party, it wasn’t so bad. Or maybe she was simply in a better mood. She spent a better part of the night hanging around Cassie and Ariel, who was dressed as Tinker Bell and her lovesick Peter Pan never strayed from her side for long. Ori didn’t know a lot of the people currently filling Leo and Ollie’s apartment, so it felt safer to stick by family.

At some point a small group of people broke off from the larger party and started playing spin the bottle. It was strange to watch twenty year olds play a childhood game. There was bobbing for apples which didn’t seem all that sanitary if you asked Ori, which is why she declined rather emphatically when asked if she wanted to try.

Halfway through the night their mom texted asking for pictures, so she took a few with Cassie and Ariel, some of her and Leo and of course all of them posing together. She even sent the few of Ariel and Ollie off to the Tuckers. Another text comes in but it’s not a response from her parents, a very handsome Indiana Jones pops up and she can’t help the huge smile that forms. He looks adorable with that hat and playful smirk and she tells him so. Ori peered over her phone to find Cassie and Ariel smiling, she cleared her throat and quickly hid her phone back in her purse.

“Oh, look. There are some mummy cupcakes left. I better go grab one before they disappear,” Ori had muttered as she quickly tried to divert attention off of her.

There was every Halloween themed treat you could think of. The chocolate covered strawberries dressed up as ghosts, bloody s’mores, and candy corn rice krispy treats were gone first. When Ori asked how they managed to do all this, Leo admitted with a sheepish grin that their mom had done most of the baking and Cassie and Ariel had decorated. She should have known Ariel had a hand in the planning, it was too well organized for Leo and Ollie to handle on their own.

The party started to die down a little after one in the morning, Leo offered his bed but Cassie was already fast asleep and there was no way she was sharing with that human koala. After refusing to take Leo’s spot on the couch, Leo brought her back home with the promise to text him the minute he got back. There’s no way he would let her catch a cab back to her place all by herself.

It’s nearly three by the time Ori trudges up the stairs to her apartment. She’s tired, but it’s a good kind of tired. Not that she will ever admit this to Cassie but tonight was fun. It wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be, and a very important someone was missing but it wasn’t as bad as she envisioned. She slips out of her heels and drops her purse on the table by the front door, she can clean up tomorrow when she’s not struggling to keep her eyes open. Right as she reaches kitchen island where her bouquet is sitting in her mother’s chipped mint green vase, her phone rings in her hand and she can’t help but grin at the name staring back at her.

“Hey, you.”

Ori grins, dusting a finger over a stray sprig and she’s suddenly not feeling as tired.

“My day? You know, it wasn't so bad actually. It got better there at the end. Even better now.”

#Orion Barnes #astrophile files #Theo Tucker x Orion Barnes #Theo x Ori #the price of astrophile #poa #Astrophile

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

and now we’re here

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: This one is a collab with @kayleafs221! We flash back with (Y/N) after Freddie left her and to her finding out she was pregnant

Author’s Note: We have a part three! I wasn’t going to do more than two but @kayleafs221 wants ✨drama✨ so we’re gonna see what we can conjure up together. We teamed up to see how much drama we could fit in so hopefully it fits the bill. @kayleafs221 also mentioned that she wanted to structure this sort of how New Moon was written so we went with it! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I’ve got one last chapter in me to make it all fluffy and bring these two back together! Stay Golden, loves! <3

masterlist

the other masterlist

It had already been a month. You kept telling yourself you shouldn’t be so devastated but he hadn’t called or even texted. You were alone. He had left you completely alone and he wasn’t coming back. You found yourself curled up in his large hoodie on the bathroom floor for the umpteenth time while your chest tightened with every sob and gasp you took as if he took your lungs with him; falling asleep clinging to the last piece you had of him.

Month 2

You had no choice. You had to throw yourself into work, it was all you could do. Even when you were home, your laptop was out. You let yourself be distracted in any way you could but even that was no use. You had been sick all week and your boss had made you stay home. You didn’t know what to do as you sat on your couch refusing to watch movies because they were all the same. Always a happy ending and the thought of love and sex made you sick, sick to your stomach. You were determined to do something productive, maybe going for a walk would make you feel better. A walk by the beach. It was just as you remembered it. Beautiful. Peaceful. Suddenly your mind was flooded.

“I’ve been traded to Toronto. I leave at 4am.” What bullshit was that? How could he leave so suddenly and not even be phased? Not have any remorse for any of it?

“Stay in touch Freddie.” You were so stupid to think that he would care enough to keep whatever this was going long distance. You had to face reality, that you didn’t mean anything to him. It came again, the dizziness, the shortness of breath. It couldn’t be stopped this time. There was only black. You woke up to the incessant sound of beeping, beeping, what was all that beeping? Your eyes were met with an uncomfortable brightness. This isn’t the beach, you thought to yourself, before rubbing your head, “What?” you started to say, confused as to how you ended up in a hospital bed

“Ah, Miss (Y/L/N) I see you are awake,” the nurse checking your vitals said, “I’ll get the doctor for you, I’m sure you have many questions.” Sitting yourself up, you watched her leave the room before finding the clock and realizing that it had been two hours since you went to the beach. You couldn’t believe you were unconscious for that long, this was crazy, “she’s still groggy” the nurse said, directing the doctor to your bedside

“That’s normal,” the doctor explained with a smile, “well, we’ve run some tests and you’re severely dehydrated”

“Dehydrated?” you asked, “I don’t un– I mean I haven’t been out of bed for a couple weeks but I’ve just been dealing with some things”

“Seven” he smiled, checking the paperwork in front of him casually

“Excuse me?” you replied, furrowing your brow

“Seven weeks,” he added, “my guess is that you haven’t been drinking a lot of water”

“I haven’t really been up for it” you cowered

“Well, please do,” the doctor said, “for your baby’s sake”

“I’m sorry what?” you exclaimed, “Baby?” you said, shaking your head

“Yes,” the doctor repeated, “you’re about seven weeks along. Give or take a couple days. All women handle their pregnancies differently, which might account for your drowsiness and any mood swings you may have been experiencing”

“I’m not pregnant” you scoffed, readjusting yourself in your bed

“You are” the doctor returned your scoff, seemingly annoyed at your behaviour

“I can’t be…”

“The results say otherwise”

“But I haven’t had sex, I haven’t left my bed in.. like two months”

“Which is about seven weeks”

“But I… I can’t be pregnant”

“Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“No… there’s no one” you lowered your eyes as the realization came over you.

Month 3

After you were released from the hospital, you tried to make the pregnancy easier on yourself by reading a million books and telling your parents what you needed or letting your mom tell you what she thought you needed

“You know what I think will really help?” she said, “telling the father…”

“Mom…” you whined

“He deserves to know, too.” She was right, of course, as all mom’s usually are so you agreed to reach out but you deleted his number when you convinced yourself it was better to forget about him, forcing you to search him out online; a huge mistake really. There were stories about girls who he’d slept with and left ‘in his wake,’ none of which you could be sure of their validity, but then you’d find pictures of him hanging out with Auston Matthews or William Nylander or any of the younger teammates in clubs and bars and you could only imagine that their behaviours spilled into his, so you let it go.

Month 9

“But what happens when that kid is born with red hair and freckles? Or when he’s a natural athlete?” your sister asked

“What do you mean?” you scoffed

“You can’t hide that,” she tried, tilting her head as she continued, hoping you’d get her point. “He’s gonna know. If there’s a picture, he’s gonna know. He’s not dense…”

“The kid probably won’t be a red head. So he’d never know..” you said knowing very well it could be a possibility. She huffed when she realized she wouldn’t get through your stubbornness. As time went on, you realized that there was no use denying it, Jackson was already excelling at every sport he tried. Knowing this, you kept him as far away from ice as possible. You knew it was wrong but you just couldn’t risk it, especially after so many of the Ducks already knew you. Whenever you thought about reaching out and telling him the truth, something was being said about him. He seemed to be a magnet for negativity.

“Possible Frederik Andersen injury a very troubling turn for Maple Leafs”

“Maple Leafs placing all their faith in Frederik Andersen”

“Andersen Said What Every Maple Leaf Fan Is Thinking”

“Maple Leafs goalie Frederik Andersen fined $2K for embellishment”

“Toronto Maple Leafs: Andersen has been a Disaster”

Every headline seemed to be worse than the last and you knew that if you were feeling stressed just reading them, then he was probably shutting himself away to hide from everyone after living with them. This was a normal thing for goalies to go through in the NHL but there was something about the way Toronto was treating Freddie that made you want to be there for him. But you couldn’t make a decision like that so easily anymore. It wasn’t just about you and your feelings anymore, you had your baby boy to think about and the older he got, the more you could see his personality grow and the more his personality grew, the happier he was; you couldn’t imagine taking that away from him. You couldn’t take that life away from him. But watching Freddie’s career hit highs and lows, noticing he was alone through most of it, your heart broke for him. You hoped that, somehow, your love would reach him. You hoped for his happiness even before your own. Even so, you would protect your son through everything, knowing that meant it might cost you the truest of love.

Toronto 2021

“Why did you lie to me?” Freddie said under his breath. You could tell he was angry and there was no getting away from this.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t lie. I told you I had a one night stand with some guy– why are we even talking about this again?” You tried your best to keep the story straight, hoping to appease him

“You lied about Jackson not being mine!” he started to shout

“I didn’t…” you stammered. There’s no way. He couldn’t know. You had made sure of it

“I did the math… I saw your post and I went back because something didn’t… add up…” he admitted, “and the math didn’t fit with some one night stand. That kid in there, who looked an awful lot like me as a kid, he’s mine. And you lied about it. You kept it from me, kept HIM from me!”

“HE’S MY SON!” you cried. Everything was falling apart and you weren’t sure what to do anymore. There was no getting around this, you had to let out what you’d been holding in from that night, “and you left me! YOU LEFT US!”

“BUT HE’S MY SON TOO!” he countered and you furrowed your brow, shaking your head as you tried to think of what to say next.

“I made a choice, Freddie. I looked at how quickly our life together changed and I… made a choice. I couldn’t put a child through all of that. Moving at the drop of a hat, having to say goodbye to friends and homes and cities whenever your job called for it… You never looked back, you never reached out. After two months of waiting, I woke up alone in a hospital and you didn’t even care to call. So I did this. I HAD TO” you confessed, sorrow filling your eyes as you watched his face soften. “So yeah, I lied. But I didn’t lie to hurt you. I lied to protect him. No matter what. I make no apologies for that.”

“How was I supposed to know that you were in the hospital?”

“It doesn’t matter, Freddie,” you sighed, “the point is, you left and I was alone and I couldn’t wait for you.”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know,” you started. “If this had happened before you got traded, our life would’ve been so different. I pictured it, you know,” you smiled, “our life. With Jackson. We looked so happy in my daydreams”

“We could be happy like that,” he whispered, moving close to you, “in real life”

“I can’t change his life for you”

“I don’t want you to change his life,” he smiled, closing the gap between the two of you and you felt your heartbeat in your head, making it hard to think straight, “I just want to be part of it...”

“He doesn’t know who you are” you said through bated breath

“Let’s tell him then” he exclaimed

“No,” you insisted, putting your hands on his forearms, “if we’re going to do this, we have to take it slow”

“Slow?” he asked, leaning down to your ear, “how slow?”

“I just don’t want him to feel overwhelmed,” you replied, your hands drifting up his arms, “just... start by introducing yourself to him... We’ll have lunch”

“I can do that” he smirked, pushing your hair back before laying a kiss to the exposed skin of your collarbone

“You have to be patient”

“I can do that” he repeated as a moan left your mouth

“I don’t know if you can” you chuckled, finally pushing him away from you

“I can”

“I’m serious”

“So am I!” he laughed, placing his hands on your hips to stop you from turning around, “he’s my son and I will do anything to get to know him”

“He can’t know you’re his dad yet,” you said again, “I know it seems weird but, please, just don’t fight me on this”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it”

“Good” you joked, cocking your eyebrow before he smiled at you. That smile always broke you, always made your heart louder than your head, and, right now, you were more than happy to listen to it. He met you in the middle, pressing a kiss to your lips before his hands pushed your body into his and suddenly, it all felt so perfect. Like no time had passed. He was yours again and you were determined to keep it that way.

#Frederik Andersen #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen imagine #freddie andersen #Freddie Andersen fic #Freddie Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen request #Freddie Andersen request #Frederik Andersen angst #Freddie Andersen angst #masterlist #the other masterlist #nhl #hockey #tml

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joezworld · 3 years

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📁

Specifically, any headcanons of the Sodor Engines interacting with the internet, or the internet in general?

For some reason, I’d imagine that podcasts and the like are popular among vehicles in general.

That is a question that I've been working on for some time - because I'm workshopping my own Tornado headcanon (and boy oh boy does she use the internet a lot) - but I have some ideas for the Sodor engines as well:

Henry is probably the most "plugged in" engine on the island, weirdly enough. One of his drivers gave him an iPod back in the early 2000s, and kindly preloaded it with a bunch of torrented music.

BTW, that works because all the engines are now equipped with automatic train warning systems, and the little on-board computer has a USB port - as a nice side effect it allows music players to work with the engines in the same way as bone-conducting headphones do. The computer also acts as some kind of computer interface, which I am not going to explain how that works because Jesus Christ I don’t know how it does either.

Henry has managed to upgrade his iPod a few times since thanks to hand-me-down units from NWR staff, so he eventually got his buffers on a wifi-enabled iPod Touch and now downloads new music from the station wifi. He does listen to podcasts, but as every other engine will tell you, you could show Henry ten thousand new and exciting songs from the best artists in the world, and his top ten played songs are still going to be Genesis, Phil Collins, and Yes. Bear considers it a win that he managed to convince Henry to regularly listen to Rush after a mere twenty years of convincing.

Mavis and Daisy listen to a very interesting program called The News, because as stated elsewhere, they invest a shitload of money and need to be on top of things. Thomas and Percy wish that Daisy would use headphones or something similar to that, instead of listening to Bloomberg TV at loud volumes in the middle of the night. Toby frankly doesn’t mind, as it’s very nice to be kept up-to-date on the outside world.

In a move that surprises no-one, Bill and Ben have a podcast where they talk about whatever they think about at that moment - usually horse-racing, investing, and clay mining. As such, they have a wide audience, almost none of whom know that they’re that Bill and Ben, as their podcast is audio-only.

In an also unsurprising move, Edward and BoCo have been made very much aware that Bill and Ben have a podcast, but are still unsure as to what the hell a podcast is, despite being frequent guests on it.

Of the main line diesels, only Bear has shown any real interest in the internet, and was immediately put in charge of the Amazon Alexa when a unit was installed in the diesel shed. He also has an iPod that he got for Christmas a few years back. (The NWR has a very good personal electronics recycling program called give it to Henry, he’ll make use it.)

Bear does listen to podcasts as well as music, but his choices are so insufferably boring that even Henry refuses to listen to them. (I don’t really listen to podcasts - despite making one - so insert the most boring podcast you can think of here.)

As for other internet uses...

Gordon is very up-to-date on the newest social media trends - somehow - but only really cares when he is involved. He won’t admit it, but he’s been trying to figure out how to work a camera/selfie stick for some time so he can start up his own Instagram account. So far he has been unsuccessful, but one day he will manage it.

James has had an ongoing feud with his own Wikipedia page for about a decade now. The article sourced most of its information about his construction off of some out-of-print book about the L&Y. The book in question is accurate about James’ class, but not James himself - as he was a prototype engine. There’s no other primary sources available, so the very dedicated Wikipedia mod who created the page won’t change it - no matter how much James complains that he was there! He knows what happened!

Every now and again a TTTE fan blog/tumblr will make a post about hypothetical “ships” of the Sodor engines. Most of the time it’s shipping the core characters like Gordon and Henry, much to Gordon’s bafflement and Henry’s amusement!

Only one blog (a ttte fan tumblr by the curious name of @mean-scarlet-deceiver ) has gotten it right. Henry actually reached out to congratulate this blogger, but was unfortunately mistaken for a very dedicated roleplay account.

James is very annoyed by these blogs, as they have never once correctly guessed who he is “shipped” with! He has tried several times to be seen in public with Delta, but these events have never gone as planned - the “best” instance is when Edward rolled by at exactly the wrong moment, leading to months of speculation that JamesxEdward was the ship to look out for!

Thomas, being a generally oblivious sort of engine, was totally unaware of the online fan community around the TV show until he started getting actively harassed by vloggers and Instagrammers in the early 2010s. He’s fine with it now, but it was a deeply unusual experience for most of 2012.

Toby has developed an unexpectedly popular following on social media following his collab with Stormzy. His official twitter is huge now, with over a million followers, even if he has no idea what to do with it. He posts rarely, but usually manages to make an incredible post when he does.

No-one is sure who told Oliver what a “fan-production” is, but if you manage to get ahold of him for any period of time and ask him nicely, he will lend his voice to your TTTE fan-project, so long as it isn’t about [INSERT TERRIBLE SOCIAL/POLITICAL VIEW(S) HERE]. This means that he has 100% voiced dramatic readings of NSFW Fanfics before, which is always an absolute riot to spring on people unannounced.

There is a series of slice-of-life TTTE fanfics on Ao3 that have been written with such accuracy and innate railway knowledge that people are sure it was written by a Sodor engine, but nobody knows which one.

The Culdee Fell Railway has very active Instagram, Twitter and YouTube accounts, with all of the engines and coaches showing up regularly. It’s about the closest any of the railways on Sodor have come to what those outside the UK would call “normal locomotive social media”.

The Skarloey Railway has social media accounts too, but they don’t really feature the engines in any meaningful way, instead being used as a normal service announcements page.

The SR is a real working railway that doesn’t rely on tourism money as much as the others do, so they get a bit of a pass here.

The Arlesdale Railway has Twitter and YouTube, which didn’t usually get a lot of hits until 2020, when Ivan and Amanda Farrier started badgering the staff to make some videos just to alleviate some boredom. So far the most popular videos on the channel are a front-mounted camera video of the entire line slow-tv style, Bert explaining how steam engines work, and a video of Mike complaining about Justin Bieber for a solid half-hour.

That’s about it as far as Sodor goes, but before we’re done, I want to take a moment to talk about Tornado, because I have some fun ideas for her...

First of all, we need to establish that Tornado is very young. Her construction only started in late 90′s, and she was steamed to life in 2000, putting her firmly into the “Zoomer” category. Add in the fact that she was built by a bunch of old men who didn’t really know how to treat a new engine, and she was raised much more like a human than a locomotive - I’ll get to this much more in the proper Tornado Headcanon post, but what this means here is that when social media started being a thing in the mid-to-late 2000′s, the people at the A1 Trust decided that they needed a young person to run things like Twitter, Facebook, and Myspace... and, well, Tornado was the youngest person in the trust by a large margin.

I should state here that in the rest of the world, locomotives are on the internet at roughly the same level as humans are, so there’s plenty of equipment to connect a phone/computer/camera to an engine - being English, the A1 Trust didn’t know how common it was, but they managed to get it up and running just the same.

So Tornado has very quickly become attuned to the internet, just like any other teenager would. (yes, let’s let that settle into our minds for a moment - Tornado is barely old enough to drink in the US!) Quite naturally that means that she knows social media inside and out, and is actually quite a proficient social media manager for the trust, managing all of their social pages. More than one person who has complained about the trust on twitter has unknowingly been complaining to Tornado herself!

“On the internet, nobody knows that you’re a dog Engine”.

Tornado has her own personal social media accounts too, but most/all of the time she gets mistaken for a very dedicated role-player, as the general perception of British Locomotives is that they don’t tweet. This has resulted in some amazing reactions from podcast hosts (because, as you might expect, Tornado is very knowledgeable about steam traction in the 21st century, and tweets about it often, so train podcasts want to talk to her) when she gets invited onto video calls, turns on her webcam, and is met with screams from people who suddenly realize that her profile picture is accurate.

By far the best instance of this is when she was invited onto a video call with a railfan podcast. She was at the NRM at the time and managed to convince them to let her use their Skype setup. A wide-angle lens was needed because she was on the turntable in the Great Hall, so that podcast quickly got sidetracked when her webcam was turned on and revealed Tornado, with Mallard, Evening Star, City of Truro, and Green Arrow visible behind her. Whatever the original topic was quickly got thrown out in favor of a 2-hour Q&A with some of the most famous engines in the UK.

#ask response #the internet #ttte thomas #ttte toby #ttte bill and ben #ttte gordon #ttte daisy #ttte mavis #ttte henry #ttte bear #ttte oliver #tornado #nrm #trains using the internet #ttte #sodor #sodor shenangians #the formatting on this one is super fucked up and i can't figure out how to fix it - sorry

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shaydeoffical · 3 years

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Burnt Chocolate Kisses: Osamu Miya x Fem Reader!

Summary: Osamu and (Y/n), think about their first valentines together, and find a way to celebrate their third anniversary after a busy day.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings/keywords: fluff, light fighting, Suna with Barbz energy.

Author’s Note: This is for the Sweethearts Collide Collab I am hosting. Please go support everyone who joined in! I am so excited to share all these V-Day fics with you, and maybe make it a little less lonely for some of you! Please enjoy

Collab Masterlist: here

Burnt Chocolate Kisses

"Samu." I sat my box down and rushed to meet him at the door. Rice was scattered across his hair and chest, not to mention there was a small patch on his cheek. His eyes were barely open, movements slow, as he took off his shoes. "I told you to let me help at the store today." "Be glad you didn't." He stepped up from the genkan and slumped into my arms. "One couple tossed their food at the cashier. Instinct kicked it, and I spiked it across the store. I'm going to be collecting those free onigiri vouchers for the next three months." "Valentine's day is about being with your loved ones and sharing a romantic evening. Yet, there's always an idiot or two who like to ruin the day for everyone. I'm sorry it was hell today." Rocking him lightly, we slowly edged our way to the kitchen. Part of the reason I stayed home today was so I could cook him a magical dinner. But my day hadn't gone to plan either. "Why do I smell smoke?" Finding some energy, he moved past me and ran to the oven. Opening the door, the last billows of smoke rose up and out. "(Y/n); what happened? Are you okay?" Grabbing a towel, he fanned the air away from the smoke detector and glanced at my hands. There were few people in this world who'd be more interested in my well being than their stove in shambles. "No burns this time." I laughed, gritting my teeth. The air was thick, my throat closing up. "I guess I did surprise you; there's just nothing to eat…" Inside the oven was a charred goose. We had watched someone cook a goose on Master Chef, and we had wanted to try it for a few months. He held his forehead and turned his back to me, getting the bird into the trash. "So, um, are you going to cook my goose over this?" My voice cracked, but I couldn't stop the joke from slipping out.

He giggled to my relief. Osamu was a wonderful boyfriend; of course, we had some fights, but he never let it get out of hand. Though it was a different story between him and his twin. Atsumu always used me as a human shield from his brother during fights, and it worked every time. Osamu wouldn't risk hurting me, no matter how much he wanted to strangle his brother. "Nice pun, baby." Coming back to reality, I jumped up, sitting on the counter. "Well, I wanted to make today special. But I think we both just want to try again tomorrow." I leaned my head against the cabinets. Soot had stained the ceilings and coated the light fixtures. To say I almost burned the house down was an understatement. Thankfully, 'Samu told me that if there was a fire in the oven, to just let it smother out by keeping the door shut. "We have a history of celebrating the 15th, ya know." He slotted between my legs and pressed his soft stomach against mine. "We'll get our half-price teddy bears and snacks, walk around the park, maybe go to the arcade. Or." "Or what?" Stealing a kiss, I tapped his nose. "We just do what we did for our first valentines." He slowly kissed up my throat, nibbling here or there. "No. Th-that doesn't count!" Blood rushed to my head, his hands ghosting up and down my back. "You can't sweet talk me into this. That was three years ago, and I didn't get to tell you how I felt. Plus, it was after midnight, so it doesn't count. Now, if you want to go skating like our first real valentines, I will." "I'm not sweet talkin'," he bit down on my favorite spot, my hand anchoring in his hair. "Come on, it's nothin' scandalous. But if I have to keep persuading you, it might take a sloppy turn. I'm too tired to be any count tonight." "I'm exhausted too." Pulling apart, his eyes sparkled, waiting for my reply. "Alright, let's do it." I jumped down and started to get my warm clothes on. "I'll make it up to you, for last time. Though this might tire us out more than we remember." "Let's do it." He grabbed a quick snack and went to the bedroom to get changed. "It'll be fun." Hollering back at me, he poked his head out the door, and I could catch a peek at his chest, my chest fluttering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Flashback

"So you burnt 'em?" Atsumu held the obligation chocolates to the street light. "You skipped class to cook all day, and this is what you made?" "Thank you (L/n), they'll make a nice paperweight." Suna snickered, placing the pink heart bag in his pocket. It was Valentine's day, and the three of us were waiting for Osamu to join us for the festival. "Oi, (Y/n). Tell me you didn't burn your hommi cocos for my brother." Atsumu poked the bulge in my bag. "I'm going to wait for next year. There's no way I can confess with these." Gripping the side of my bag, I swallowed hard. "No matter how many times I tried, it just… didn't turn out. Hey, wait. How the hell did you know that Osamu's were hommi cocos?" I gripped Atsumu by his collar. "It's not hard to tell. You keep sneaking away from your club to watch us practice. Not to mention, you've been up each other's ass the past three years of school. It's only a matter of time before one of you does something about it." Suna snuck out one of his chocolates and took a chase bite. His eyes bugged, this throat struggling to swallow the charred candy. "Damn it." I stomped my foot. A dust cloud formed, sweeping through the crowd of people around us. The weather had been dry for a while; there was a debate on whether it was safe or not to have a fireworks display this year. That's when I was going to give Samu his candy, but things weren't really working out. "I guess there's next year. Maybe we'll go to the same college?" "What about next year?" "Ahh, nothing." Twirling on my heels, Osamu was right behind me. Our shoulder's bumped when I turned; his hands steadied me. There were lots of thoughts racing through my head, but I couldn't help but notice how handsome he was, the star's reflecting in his eyes. "Sorry, I'm late." He smoothed the wrinkles on my sleeves and smiled. "Now, what are we planning for next year? A date without these two idiots?" "I resent that." Suna looked towards the food booths. "(Y/n) would rather it just be us, right?" Atsumu pulled me into his arms, pressing my head against his chest. "Cut it out." I wriggled in his hold. "I'm the superior twin by far. Who wants to spend time with a loser like Samu, when I'm right here?" "Let them go, Tsumu." Osamu's voice was even. I was surprised he wasn't trying to lunge around me to hit his brother. "She even gave me and Suna coco's, isn't that right (Y/n)?" "She did." Suna agreed, egging them on. "What's wrong with you?" I finally broke free. "Why are you trying to start a fight?" Atsumu grinned like a fox, holding up the candy I made him. When I looked at Osamu, he seemed crestfallen. The two fought all the time. Why was he so hurt this time? I had made him candy…it just wasn't good enough. "Just say it (Y/n). I know you want to." Atsumu pushed me towards his brother. "Tell him how you really feel." "Enough, Atsumu." I dug in my heels. "Can't you just let us have a good night? This is the last Valentine's we're going to have- Oh my god, Rintaro Suna. Put that god damn camera away." Tugging my hair, I noticed a crowd has started to form. Shaking, I hid my face in my hands. "I can't believe you two." "Come one (Y/n)," Osamu took my hand, breaking the crowd so we could pass. "Let's do what we always do." "Ditch our friends and stuff our face?" I sniffled, clutching onto his kimono. "Of course." We stopped in front of a booth selling sweets. "I'm really sorry about the things that were said." I played with the strings hanging from my outfit. "Let's just focus on making happy memories now. Like you said, this could be our last chance to do this again." He stepped closer to me, tucking me under his arm as a large group passed us. There wasn't much of a line, and in a few minutes, it was our turn. My eyes were glued to the apples, and Samu noticed. "Two candy apples, please." "Here." I tried to pass him some cash. He pushed it back into my palm and handed me the apple. "It's my treat today." "It's your treat every day." A pout settled on my lips until I dug into the apple. The red candy coating crunched, and the sweet juice rushed into my mouth. "Hmm, this is good. We should try to make some of these next weekends." "We should. Let's make it a date." He grabbed my hand, walking towards the line for the next booth, which was selling ticker fish. Diving through the people, my heart was nestled in my throat. "You shouldn't sound so casual, or I'll get the wrong idea." Someone stepped back, and I tripped over their foot. My candy apple went flying, and my arms failed for any support. Osamu caught my upper half and eased me into a squat before I crashed. Popping back up, I apologized to the man, and he went on his way. "You okay." Samu dusted off my dress and examined my knees for any stress. "Thanks to you, I'm fine." I looked at my candy apple, crusted with dirt. "But my apple isn't." The line was moving fast, so I nudged him forward. "Seams like today has been nothing but bad luck for me." "Is that so? Why?" He ordered the fish, a few drinks and some grilled chicken too. As the food was being prepared, he handed me his apple. We shared food all the time, this was no different, but something was off. His fingers brushed mine when he handed it off. Sure the stick was hard to balance, but this was…so soft. Osamu grabbed the food and re-entered the crowd. "Well, I-." Pushing my shoulder's back, I bit into his apple and collected my thoughts. We veered off the path with our dinner and find a quiet place to sit and eat. "I was making hommi cocos for someone special, and they burned…multiple times." I plopped down on the grass and took another bite of the apple. "So Atsumu was lying." Osamu showed me his phone. Atsumu had texted him a picture of the obligation chocolates I made him. "Yup, he just wanted to upset you." The fire flies lit up the sky as our eyes adjusted to the dark. A breeze filtered through the area, and I scooted closer to Samu for warmth. "So you were making the hommi cocos for me?" He held out a piece of fish for me, and I used my teeth to pull it off the stick. "Like I said, today's been terrible." I curled into my knees. "I can't share my true feelings with burnt chocolate." "I see." He looked at his watch then the sky. "The fireworks about to start. Which means it's almost midnight." He reached over and took another bite of his apple. "We can just wait till then." "It won't count if we wait, though." I realized that I was basically admitting my crush then and there, but there was no point in pretending now. "Our feelings will be the same today and tomorrow." He reached into his bag. "I made these for you." "Sumu." It was a box of cocos; they were wrapped in pink ribbons and had special frosting with my name. "You, put so much effort into this, I. I defiantly can't show you what I made." Fireworks went off in the sky above, raining down red and pink sparkles. They illuminated his eyes, making them glow almost. His face was inches from mine, our breath shared. "They are hommi cocos. I couldn't wait for white day. I didn't know for sure if you returned my feelings, so just in case, I made these for you. I really like you (Y/n), please, be mine?" "I don't know what to say. I had all these things planned, but I'm lost for words." I pulled back, handing him the box. "These aren't good enough to express my feelings, but I want you to know I tried." Having killed the moment, I wanted to kick my own ass for pulling away. "You skipped class to make these?" he asked, popping one in his mouth. "I did. Feel free to rub in how bad they taste." I laughed, wiping the sweat from my brow. "They're perfect." He leaned forward again, but not as far. I met him halfway, our lips touching in a feathery test.

"Mm, that is so much better without the taste of burnt chocolates." I slid off his lap and onto the blanket beside us. We had gone to a festival and got the same dishes as before. The firework show was about to start, and we finally were alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Present "It was cute. You put some much effort into them that all I tasted was your love." He grabbed my chin, pulling me in for another kiss. "My love and scorched caramel." Leaning against his chest, I looked at the sky, the first firework going up. "I'm glad you were braver than I was back then." "As much as Atsumu pissed me off, I'm glad he tried to push together." A loud boom spoked me, of the fireworks bigger than usual. It made a giant red heart. "He sped things up for sure. Thinking back on the day, there were a lot of disasters, but it was all worth it. Because I got to find the love of my life." I laced our fingers together. "I wish for us to always be together." "We will; no need to wish for it." He kissed my knuckles, his knee knocking down the stick from our food. "Thank you for working so hard today." "Well, burning stuff is my love language." I giggled, and we curled deeper into each other. "I love you (Y/n)." He closed his eyes, starting to drift off. After a hard day's work, he needed a little rest. Considering how hard he fought it to spend time with me today, I could let him use me as a pillow.

#haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu fluff #Osamu Miya fluff #osamu fluff #Osamu x female reader #osamu miya #Osamu imagine #miya twins #suna #valintinesday #fanfiction #sfw #fluff #romance

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thatlongspringnight · 3 years

Text

Effortlessly Alone (Chapter 1) (Jin x Namjoon)

Pairing: Namjoon x Seokjin

Genre: fluff, soft angst, fantasy

Rating: T for teen

Length: 3.5 k

Warnings: Feeding fish food they shouldn’t eat, sad boys

Summary: Jin is an ancient river god, cursed to be trapped in his fish form for his heartless transgressions. Namjoon is a lonely twenty-something who takes to feeding him cheese crackers and telling him about his life. Together this unlikely pair may just find the answers to the loneliness in their hearts are closer than they think.

This is for the Spring Sprouts collab, which has honestly been the highlight of my March, I had no idea how much this idea would spring out of control, enough for me to make this a chapter fic. Tune in next time for more of Jin’s past, and Namjoon taking a date to the river. <3

The first time Namjoon visits the river, it's to clear his head. Odd, considering the vast emptiness that had seemed to take over in the last few weeks, a sort of dullness that not even reading could banish. He’s new to this small town, and he knows that in part...that’s the problem. He’s new and he’s lonely. Lonely and bored, a job transfer from busy Seoul that had upped his pay, but left him stranded in what seemed like the wilderness.

It’s different, so different from the fast paced life he’d left behind, and some days...some days its maddening. Maddening enough to force him up onto his feet, jogging through winding roads, rarely paved, taking in his new home, hoping to burn off the anxious energy he’d yet to find a healthy outlet for.

And today - that takes him to the river, plopping to the ground as he makes it there, the grass soft and cool against sweaty thighs. There is a little sitting area his eyes trail, and a pagoda that looks far too old for his comfort. Like a relic from another time. A cherry blossom tree, not yet blooming, that looked just as old. Out of respect, or maybe fear of spiders, he chooses to avoid them both, instead finding himself lounging at the water’s edge, basking in the warmth of the day...the sound of the water moving by.

“Its not so bad.” He speaks out loud, but only to himself, he’s alone here after all. Nature has rarely comforted him in his short life, but this place...well, he wonders if the water is too cold...or if it would be nice enough to dip his feet in. He wonders what the stars look like at night from here, gazing above the river. “I mean, I have all this free time.” It’s a musing, punctuated by him sliding off his shoes, socks shoved inside them.

There is no harm in it right? He shifts, a jolt as his feet hit the water, current smooth and soothing and very cold. But he doesn’t move.

It is grounding and liberating all at once...at least until he feels something nip at his ankle.

“Ahhk!” He tumbles back, feet yanked out of the water. “What - “ He can’t help himself, scrambling to look over the edge of the water, to find out what - And it is a what, Joon thinks, eyes widening. A beautiful what.

A beautiful fish. Long flowing fins in elegant shades of ivory fading to soft pink. Big too - like a koi who has gotten comfortable in a well sized pond. Is it a koi fish? Namjoon thinks to himself, his situation forgotten as he stares at the way its fins fan and move, making waves of their own in the current.

It has to be a koi fish. “You bit me.” The man complains, shifting so he’s staring down into the water, feet safely on the bank, “are you hungry?” He gives the fish benefit of the doubt, surprised to find its gaze on him.

There is...something there - something behind the fish’s eyes, it gives Namjoon pause - because its an all around human look. A sort of awareness that breeds curiosity in the man. He finds himself reaching for his fanny pack, grabbing the snacks he brought. “I know these can’t be good for you.” he speaks as he breaks a cheez-it in half, tossing it to the surface. “But as a treat, I don’t think its that bad.”

The fish devours them, and circles after, clearly wanting more. Namjoon settles himself on the bank, happy enough to feed the pretty creature and soak up the sun.

He goes to speak, then pauses. Would it be completely unhinged if he talked to the fish?

“What’s your name?”

The voice is a whisper, a sweet sound against Namjoon’s ear, he shudders, glancing around in the darkness, searching for the sound. There it is again, he doesn’t understand what’s being said, but its so close, he reaches out, he can’t help it, he just wants to know…

Who the voice belongs to, what the voice is saying.

“.....Name…?”

“Namjoon - My name is Namjoon, Kim Namjoon.” He finally answers, and suddenly there is color, bursting everywhere, and...and a man, beautiful, ethereal, like staring at the moon in reflection over the river.

He’s sitting, and there is a divide, something Namjoon can’t see - and they’re touching, fingertips brushing each other - How does the man look like that? Namjoon can feel the confusion. Beautiful and fragile like glass, but with a piercing gaze.

He can’t remember ever meeting someone who looks like him, with those full lips, tousled hair, and almost petulant look.

“You - who are you?” “My name….not important.” The man answers, staring up towards the cloudless sky and too-close moon. “You - you are lonely.” its a simple pronouncement. “I’m lonely too.”

“I - “

His alarm is blaring, and he groans, its time for work. He sits up, nearly toppling over as he rubs his eyes. The river, the silver moon, a man - its disappearing as quickly as it was there the memories of his strange encounter already fading to the background

For the fish, however, it’s not so easy. Centuries of loneliness, trapped in this disgraced form, culminating in this human boy feeding him something that made him want to be alive again...what had he called them...cheese things? Cheese rounds? He wasn’t sure, but what he was sure of is that the moment those flavored breads hit his mouth, he felt alive again….for the first time in over a hundred years.

Alive, and ravenous for more. For too long he had dined on the refuse of the lake floor, smaller fish and wilted water weeds, when once upon a time he had feasted in banquet halls lined in gold, on bread dripping in honey, wine soaked lips demanding more.

And yet these delectable cheese rounds trumped them all. Made his belly storm and growl, demanding more of them.

But those are memories that just bitter his heart, move him further and further from freedom from breaking the curse that bound him here. Here trapped in this forgotten land, in the body of a fish - a once great god brought low for his pride, Seokjin, the fish thinks wryly - god of rock and river, whose tears overflowed these banks as a child, lonely and lost.

Whose only friend in the world was himself, his reflection along the water’s edge keeping him company. It is no surprise how easy it was to fall in love with his own features.

Jin, of comely face, on his lonely rock in the middle of the river - attracting suitors both human and divine, temples raised in his honor as his power and beauty grew. Jin, with an indolent smirl, laughing merrily, taking a new lover every night, discarding them come morning, no consequences for the divine. Relishing in life because life relished in him, blessed with beauty and an insatiable spirit, a whole where his heart should be.

All lost overnight, cursed for his own hubris - for his own inability to love.

The fish glances up, risking the dangers of the surface to stare at the moon, at the reason he was cursed in the first place.

To linger on the huge, ancient cherry blossom tree that shielded the pagoda, the temple erected in his name so many years ago. So beautiful, the springtime blossoms nearly ready to burst. His first real friend, even if he didn’t know it then.

But its now, not then, and he’s lonely, and hungry for life - and something about that boy’s unhurried, somewhat awkward smile touches that part of him, the part that longed to live again - even in this very changed world, this future that had forgotten him.

If anything then just to get those crackers again.

And that’s why he visits his dreams. The only place Jin can show himself, his true self, unable to voice that ancient curse to the boy - but able to be seen, truly seen, to speak those words...loneliness -

Its...its a trick, to coax him back, with more snacks, Jin justifies, unwilling to admit that he reached out for any other reason, that he took the time under the light of that damned, too-bright moon to expend thousands year old energy on a boy who nearly kicked him in the face that day at the river for any other reason.

That he wasn’t lying when he said he was lonely. That the empty spot where his heart should be ached for something, a friend, a confidant - how he ached for a voice, to speak in more than just dreams.

But he can’t.

Either way, it works - and he learns his name.

Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.

It takes effort that first time, tendrils of magic that he used to control with barely a glance, still -

Namjoon makes a habit of visiting the river after that first time, Jin wonders if he feels that pull. That same pull he can’t deny every time the man sets himself down on the river bank.

Jin wonders if its the magic, if he’s grown that unused to the feeling...or...or if its something else.

“You’re really ridiculous, you know.” Namjoon scolds the water lightly, looking down at the white and pink fish that is floating close to surface,

Mouth opening and closing in an ill concealed attempt to get snacks. “I shouldn’t be feeding you, I’m sure it’s bad for you.” Namjoon drops a broken cracker in the water anyway, watching how the beautiful fish is quick to eat, thrashing a powerful tail.

Today Namjoon has his camera, a Polaroid he bought to document his new home, a collection of photos of nature and old stone piling up on his desk. He snaps a picture of the fish, knowing full well the film couldn’t capture the beauty. “...I took your picture.” He explains, noticing the way the fish swirls his tail in discontent. “Nothing bad, see?” He’s shaking the developing Polaroid, knowing that’s not effective. “I’ll show you.”

He truly wonders if he’s that lonely, lonely enough to become friends with a fish.

But the fish is the easiest creature to talk to, in this town full of ancient history and even older families, well established and not looking to accept a stranger...or all too eager too, to pry into his personal life, there was none of that here, at the quiet little bend in the river.

Maybe the fish judged him, but that was easy to ignore, and he always hung around to listen - sentient fish - Namjoon was growing confident of that.

“I wish you could tell me more about you.” Namjoon offers the fish, showing him the photo, watching it reflect in the water. He watches the way the fish eyes it, mouth moving to blow bubbles at the surface. Does he like it? Does it matter? “Like first of all, why do i only ever see one of you? Are you all alone?” He’d started to develop some theories, and it mostly just ended in someone dumping the fish in the river when they were tired of taking care of it.

He couldn’t think of any other reason, no amount of internet browsing found him a koi that looked exactly like him, certainly not in the wild.

Which meant he was probably home bred, maybe even tossed out for looking like that, and…and that made Namjoon sad.

Sad, to go from having a family to none at all. It makes him empathize with the creature, who was once new to this place too, who found a home...but was still alone. “You don’t have to be alone if I’m here.” He’s tucking the picture into his wallet. “And I’ll keep visiting you.”

Seokjin does not understand the human boy. He comes back, usually every other day - with Jin finding himself more and more longing for every day - but he does not understand, just the same. Does not understand why the boy bothers, time and time again,

To visit, to sit by the river with him, to talk to him. Especially when Jin cannot talk back, relegated to bubbles and splashes, to lingering glances that he hopes the boy processes as listening. He’s lonely, Jin does recognize that - but why….why seek company with a fish?

Namjoon is in that haze again. That landscape he’s started to recognize as a dream, he thinks - it feels familiar, like he’s felt so many mornings lately, comforted, though he doesn’t know why.

“You’re back.” Oh, right, memories of dreams come rushing back, of the beautiful man - who won’t give him his name. His voice is sweet, wistful. “It took you a while to fall asleep tonight.” The man, he can see him so much more clearly than before, resting on the bank of the river, hair as pink as the heavy laden cherry blossoms behind him. “I’ve been waiting.”

“Waiting…?” Namjoon questions, watching the way the man beckons him forward. “For me?” “Always.” Jin answer, a sort of soft purr to his voice, one that has Namjoon joining him on the river bank. So familiar, Namjoon thinks to himself, wondering if thinking in dreams is even possible, this riverbank - this man with the soft pink hair and lonely gaze.

“Who are you?” It could be the first or hundredth time he’s asked, judging by the look on Jin’s face.

“I’m someone not worth knowing.” Jin answers, looking up at the stars, the full moon, a grimace dancing on his lips.

He’s always being watched, even here, in the dreams of a boy who thinks to know him, in his own way.

There are a thousand years between him and freedom and still that damn moon watches.

“I think i’d like to know you more.” Namjoon answers. “Or at least your name, I always read you dream only about the people you’ve met, or seen before, and I’ve never seen you.” “Oh but you have.” Jin corrects, often even, though he doesn’t add that part.

“Untrue.” Namjoon is simple about it. “I’d remember meeting someone like you.” “Like me?” “You have the saddest eyes of anyone i’ve ever met.”

This time when Namjoon wakes up, he’s got tears dripping down his cheeks, and he doesn’t know why.

Many years ago, someone said something so similar. Jin is trapped, trapped in this form but that does not mean he doesn’t feel as a man, think as a man. That he doesn’t - he doesn’t remember.

Many years ago when he was beautiful, young, powerful...and so foolish, there was one who said something so - so similar.

A beautiful creature, a human like Namjoon - come to give him praise, to worship at his temple, at its height. He could remember him now - clear as day. Beauty then, like now, was not rare, but what was rare were his words.

He was quiet, shy even in his splendor, a boxy smile that alighted warm on Seokjin, and often. There were many, many pretty humans who came to see Jin, but he stayed, he became an acolyte, a worshipper - and he never left.

Taehyung.

Taehyung stayed at his side from the moment their eyes met, from the moment he told him those words “You’re very lonely...you smile, but your eyes tell me what you won’t say.” Seokjin could remember how he felt then, cold water tossed on him, like a rolling sea.

He had looked away, away towards another pretty thing, a playful woman come to bathe in his waters - and he vowed to not look upon Taehyung again.

But Taehyung stayed, and it was hard not to look - especially on those nights when he was alone, utterly alone, when it was just him, Taehyung...and the moon.

“You should worship him instead.” Jin remembers forming the words, Taehyung settling beside him on the river bank. “The moon, he gazes at you every night, I can feel it.”

“No.” Taehyung shakes his head. “When i saw you, Seokjin, I saw the world in a way I had never had before.

Taehyung - the memory fades, gone before Jin could get to parts he doesn’t want to remember. Too good for him, Taehyung. He looks up at the cherry blossom tree, weighed down with blossoms. Beautiful, quiet Taehyung, who had asked for so little and gotten even less.

Lessons that it was too late for him to learn now, Jin thinks to himself. He couldn’t go back in time and change the way things were, and maybe that was the true curse of it all.

Namjoon is starting to remember, and they both realize it about the same time, the man sitting on the river bank, lounging in the feel of mid-spring. Wondering just how long the blossoms would stay on the trees here.

“I’m having weird dreams.” Namjoon confesses. “Of a man.” Jin is far too concerned, far too quickly, not even complaining at the lack of snack. “A...beautiful man.” He adds on, cheeks heating in a way that Jin knows all too well. If he could smirk, he would smirk - the familiar thrill of the chase not lost on him, even now. “And I don’t think i’ve ever seen him before.” Namjoon is frowning lightly at the water, well - at the fish.

“He reminds me of someone - but at the same time, no one I know.” He confesses, knowing full well that even to the fish he must sound ridiculous. “And he says I’ve seen him before, or - or met him before.” Namjoon is frustrated, even Seokjin can tell, he bubbles a little, trying to sooth the man. “I just want to know why - “ He sighs. “I know why, its because - its because I need to get laid.” The confession makes the fish freeze, literally, all movement stopping.

“I am trying so hard, you know I went on a date last night?” The confession makes Jin lap anxiously around his legs. “it didn’t go as well as I hoped.” Namjoon sighs, enjoying the coolness of the river water against his skin. It is suddenly hot, too hot. “But...a date is a date - and - well, i’m not getting any younger.”

A date. Jin might be old, far older than any other being he would be talking to, certainly older than a foolish mortal boy, but he knew the word date. Had seen many along the banks of the river he called home.

He could feel himself frown, bubbles rising to the surface of the water as he glared at Namjoon, tail thrashing behind him. The other man was in no way required to entertain men for the sake of his age. It made Jin - well it upset him.

Namjoon watches, sees how the fish seems to disagree with this notion. Bubbles gathering at the water’s edge as he sways his tail. Namjoon is struck by how disapproving he seems. Can….can fish feel that emotion? Disapproval?

“Don’t look at me like that, I feel judged!” Nothing, his expression doesn’t change, and Namjoon grimaces. The last thing he wants after the day he’s had is even the fish judging him. “What if I give you the sharp cheddar cheez-its this time? I know they’re your favorite.”

They ARE his favorite, and Namjoon is the only one of the human crowd who still thinks to bring him offerings that brings the strange and delightful crackers. The tail thrashing ceases, though his eyes still hold that frown. He wishes he could speak to Namjoon then, tell him that as a priest of his - he do not need to - to date. Jin will take care of his every need and more - but he cannot, not yet at least.

And so he just waits until Namjoon is sighing, muttering something about a conscious spirit in the fish, pulling out the bag, breaking the pieces up as he feed them to him

“Sometimes I think you don’t really love me, or my company.” Namjoon stares at him, an amused, albeit sad look on his face. “You just come here for my cheez-its.”

No, Jin thinks to himself. Its Namjoon that comes to him, time and time again, and he doesn’t want it to stop - something that his statements only put into perspective. Namjoon had gone on a date, had met with a mortal, and he had not...had not known.

The emotion that Seokjin feels is...Jealousy, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

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