#however. i am tired now and i still need to eat and wash my hair. so it is what it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

2weebswrite · 2 years

Text

Back From the Bar (Ai Mikaze x F-Reader x Ranmaru Kurosaki) (NSFW)

This is literally the first NSFW thing I ever wrote. This is in 1st person. I know some people aren’t a fan of that, but I didn’t want to go in and edit it. This is from a while back. -Frost

I closed the door behind me, leaned against it, and slid down. I was exhausted and honestly tired of standing. Being a bartender was hard, long hours full of drunk people slurring their words, and others flirting endlessly with you.

I shivered, remembering the man that had tried to climb across the bar to touch me. He had almost succeeded in grabbing me, and I would be forever grateful in my coworker for pulling me out of his reach. I was usually good about avoiding things like that, but I had been mixing a complicated drink and was focused on getting it right. I ended up spilling the cocktail all over myself.

I stood up, throwing my bag on the couch as I walked into the kitchen. There was a plate covered in foil with a note next to it. I looked at the time, 4:09 AM, might as well be my breakfast. I hated coming home this late. I clenched my fists, before ripping off the foil and shoving the plate in the microwave. There was no doubt in my mind that my boyfriends had been asleep for ages now. The microwave beeped and grabbed my food before hopping the counter to eat.

As I ate, I scrolled through the text messages that I had got during work. I responded to a few before I finished and put my plate in the sink. My shoulders fell as I realized there was no way I could go to bed without a shower. Just as I hopped off the counter, a hand was placed on my shoulder. I spun and attempted to punch whoever had snuck in.

Ai caught my fist before it could connect with anything. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"According to my data, you've never been this jumpy. Something must have happened at work. Do you wish to talk about it?" Ai asked. I gave him a tired smile before leaning into his chest. "Before you ask, Ranmaru is still asleep. The probability of him waking up is about 25%, as we had many photoshoots scheduled for yesterday."

"That's good at least. I'm sorry for waking you up." I looked up at him from my place against his chest. "As for what happened, all I'm gonna say is Drunk Men." An idea popped up in my head, and I smirked. "I do, however, need a shower. Care to join me?"

Ai's face shifted to show confusion. "I wasn't aware that I needed one. Do I smell?" He asked. I let out a small laugh.

"No, Ai, you don't smell or anything. Sometimes couples bathe together, they may have intimate moments while in the shower or bath," I said with a blush, and Ai tilted his head.

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of-"

"Ai. I love you, but I need you to throw logic and common sense out the window once in a while."

"Without common sense-"

"I want your company! So shut up and come shower with me." I finally told him, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the bathroom with me.

I nuzzled into Ai's chest, feeling content being held in familiar arms. We had both washed up and were now just standing under the warm water.

"You seem to be much more at ease than you were earlier." I looked up at him and smiled.

"I feel a lot better than I did, I'm no longer covered in sticky syrup and alcohol. I'm in the arms of one of the two men I trust." I told him before pulling his head down to mine. Our lips met, and it was like a switch was turned, suddenly my back was up against the wall. One of his hands was at my hips, the other was tangled in my hair, pulling me closer to him. The kiss was full of lust and longing, and I couldn't help but return with equal force. I ran my hands up his toned stomach all the way up to entwine my fingers in his hair.

We parted for just a second to catch our breaths before diving back into the kiss. One of Ai's hands came up and gave my breast a soft squeeze. I moaned into the kiss, my core heating up with need. It had been weeks since I last did anything this intimate with either of my boyfriends. His lips moved down my neck, and as I pulled his hair, he let out a little moan of his own.

"You know, I'm not sure what I was expecting when I walked in here at 5 in the morning, but it wasn't this. I'm not complaining, as long as you plan on letting me join in." I looked behind Ai, and there the other love of my life, Ranmaru. He smirked and turned the water off.

"Come on, the bed seems like a much better place for this. Ai grab a towel." He ordered. Ai stepped back, still holding me in his arms, and glared at Ranmaru. I stepped out of Ai's embrace, out of the shower, and into Ranmaru's chiseled chest. Ai grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my shoulders before grabbing one for himself, and walking over to the bed and laying down. Ranmaru looked down at me, the sexy smirk he had on his face almost had me on my knees.

He scooped me up into his arms and carried me towards Ai and the bed. Ranmaru gently laid me next to Ai, who promptly began to attack my neck with kisses and love bites, his hands gently massaging my breasts. I bit my lips in an attempt to hold in a moan.

"Come on, Kitten, don't hold in those precious moans of yours." Ranmaru husked, his voice low and sexy, as he climbed on top of me. I whimpered as he began to finger my slit.

"De-Deeper!" I moaned out as Ai pinched my nipple. He was getting rougher with my body, moving from my neck to my ear.

"My sensors are going crazy; you’re the only one who can do this to me." He whispered in my ear, as Ranmaru slide in fingers into my pussy. I gasped at the feeling, it had been so long since the three of us did something like this.

"Ran-Ran-Ranmaru!" I manage to choke out between moans. He started to speed up, curling his fingers. I pulled his head down to mine and crashed out lips together. I was starving for his kisses, his body.

I was so lost in the kiss's heat and didn't notice the second that he stopped. I made a whining noise in my throat that turned into a full-on moan as I felt Ai start to lick and prod my cunt with his tongue. Ranmaru broke away from the kiss and began to suck on my nipple. I felt my core tighten.

"Ai! Ran! Pl-Please!!!!! I-I!" I shrieked, trying to tell them how close I was. Ranmaru looked up at me.

"Cum (Y/N)." That was all it took, I screamed, the coil in my stomach bursting. Ranmaru pulls me close as I come down from my high, and I hear Ai come and lay down by my side.

"I love you two so much," I said, panting.

"We love you too, Kitten," Ranmaru whispered, moving the stray hairs out of my face.

"Now get some sleep, we'll be here when you wake up. We have the day off tomorrow, don't worry." Ai said, caressing my cheek. I leaned my head into his touch, and grabbed Ranmaru's hand.

"Are you sure?" I mumbled, the exhaustion catching up with me. They both nodded.

"We can take care of ourselves."

"Just get some sleep, Kitten."

#utapri #ai mikaze #ranmaru kurosaki #Utapri Ai #Utapri Ranmaru #Uta no Prince sama #Frost Writes #Ai x reader #Ranmaru x reader

30 notes · View notes

bringmefoxgloves · 10 months

Text

(vent cw)

i really hate myself rn. i need to wash my bedding cause it feels gross but my step dad is washing the entire high school football team’s uniforms. i want to rip off this heart monitor even though i have one more day on it and i want to feel clean and normal and not hate how my hair looks and that i’m sweating so much, so i always feel gross. my room and this house feel disgusting and stresses me out and yet my room is the only place i can hide.

and i just now sat out in the kitchen eating something i fear will affect my tummy (chicken alfredo which has a lot of cheese but i forgot my lactaid) and trying to hold back my physical cringing at how loud my younger brother was yelling directly in my ear as he was telling a story to my mom on my other side.

it something about his wallet disappearing from the locker room because my step dad snagged it so it wouldn’t get stolen and how he was ready to beat up any kid who took it (they were all freshmen and he’s a senior) and then blew up on my step dad for taking it. i think my younger brother honestly has anger issues in how he was ready to employ violence as his first instinct.

and then as soon as i finished my plate i stood up, felt dizzy as my family immediately commented on me getting up so fast without talking to them. i told them i was tired, i just wanted to get the hand washes done while i had energy left as i was fading fast. which lead to my brother bringing up last night and then i had to expel more energy i didn’t have to defend myself against my brothers half assed apology as i tried to explain what happened. all for my step father and mother to say that ‘this seems to be a communication issue’ and take his side and it fell on me and *i* should have informed my brother that i was going to bed.

however, i told my parents i was going to bed early because my younger brother was still on an hours long facetime call with his girlfriend (who he drove to see… overnight? like he stayed over with her. wtf. so it’s fine for him, a 17 year old, to do that when you never would have let me do the same if i had asked when i was his age? i smell some sexism here) and wasn’t available for me to tell. i fucking told someone, i told my brother but he was too eager to get back to his facetime with his girlfriend to listen to me as i half sobbed from my bed when he woke me up with a pound on my door, i told him that i was too- and that’s all i could get out before he slammed the door last night telling me to just do the dishes. so i told someone, he just didn’t fucking listen because i must be lazy or trying to avoid chores.

i would have assumed my mom or maybe my step father (but who am i kidding. he’s not done hand washes if someone else cooks in years) to help cover for me but they didn’t, last night they just watched another episode of the good doctor and went to bed. or maybe i just wanted my younger brother to do them (he had a standing offer to do all the dishes if i was tired a few days ago? guess that has been rescinded) but no.

instead i had my entire family telling me this was my fault while i was trying to shakily walk around to put stuff away in the kitchen. they finally shut up when i told them it took me two whole hours to do the dishes last night. and then my step dad muttered under his breath that he could hear how long i was doing dishes last night. like i was still the problem.

but i’m now on my bed and i just want to cry but i won’t because someone will come in and try to comfort me and ask what’s wrong and i can’t explain it without sounding ungrateful and entitled and weird and asking too much from my family and this fucking world

my entire scalp itches and i should finish repairing the pants i wanted to wear to pride which is in three days but i don’t know if i’ll have the energy. i also signed up for two volunteer shifts at pride cause i thought i would have more energy but this week has just been fucking draining me. i don’t want to let people down, i don’t want to miss out on my community, but i’m afraid i won’t be able to summon up the energy. i know i will crash afterwards for sure.

i can feel myself on the verge of a meltdown and i am in sensory overload mode cause my brother played such loud music in the shower that i could clearly hear it in my room, and everyone eating and talking made me want to scream, and now my parents are watching another good doctor episode in the living room with the sound up so loud. i stg i’m going to break.

today i still had to clean up after everyone just leaving random dishes out and crap scattered around cause i’m still the live in housekeeper as an adult child not paying rent, my bank account is empty (i have less than two dollars in there but i’m scared of asking my parents for more money cause i see my brother taking more money from them while they say we have to tighten our finances), i can’t get a job because of my health. i want to continue in my plans of opening my own business but i don’t know how i will with everything going on.

i’m scared and uncomfortable with how weak my legs are, i just want some time alone and to rest. i want my own space without anyone breathing down my neck, without judging me, without thinking if i just applied myself i could do things. i want someplace without my step dad asking me if i have more energy now, as if that answer will change right now in the conditions i’m in. someplace where i didn’t have my mother going on a new diet kick or shaking some alternative medicine that will surely cure my long covid and fix my gut microbiome (because if i fixed my gut i would get all my energy back and be normal again, it will fix whatever is wrong with me, cure me and make me normal again) in my face.

i want a place where i could eat at the table without feeling like i’m in the middle of a battle field and i can hear everyone’s chewing and breathing like they’re right in my ear, a place where my brother won’t walk in on me naked in the bathroom (because that happened today). a place i could shut my door without being called antisocial and leave it open without everyone coming to ask me to do something for them.

i want a place i could be alone, where i could spread out and inhabit my own space, someplace i could eat and make my own food, control what is in the cupboards and fridge, that i could lay on the floor and stim freely, a place where i didn’t have five pets assaulting my nose and demanding attention and getting hair everywhere.

a place i could use a shower stool without being called lazy or over exaggerating, someplace i could use a wheelchair because i desperately need to, someplace i could have things laid out to assist me rather than hinder me.

someplace i could dress as i want/have my hair as i want with no one questioning what my gender is. someplace i could have my own private sexual life and not have to answer my brother’s questions about my sexual orientation and identity and what i have done or listen to him boast about his conquests.

i want my own place, independent and stable and safe for a disabled and neurodivergent person like me.

but the world isn’t set up for that.

i look at other people my age or even younger who are in better places, with better jobs, living on their own, able to care for themselves and it just feels so unfair that i can’t have that. that my mind and my body aren’t set up to operate like that without a lot of help.

i know i will need help for a long time yet and it’s clashing with my desire for independence. i’m fucking 26 and living in my parents house. but i still need to stay here cause in two years my top surgery will take place and i have no one else to care for me.

i feel like i’m stuck in amber and going fucking nowhere.

i’m just…. i’m so tired. i know i’ll be fine eventually, all’s well that ends well and if it isn’t well yet it isn’t over and all that, i know. i know i just have to be patient but i’m tired.

anyways thanks for reading and i’m certain i will feel better tomorrow.

#wes babbles #sorry for the super long vent. it’s write this or sob until i feel like puking and for reasons in the vent i don’t want to do that

4 notes · View notes

pet1teyn · 9 months

Text

chapter one: my head's in a daze...

previous <- masterlist -> next

Golden sunlight poured through Y/N's sheer curtains as the birds chirped outside. Y/N groaned out of discomfort as the gentle but bright light hit her face and attempted to pull her blankets over her head. Her alarm softly rang throughout her room, but it was enough for Y/N to be annoyed. Her clock read 6:30 AM.

"Oh my fucking god. It's too early for this."

With this rousing statement, she rolled over in bed after shutting off her alarm and went back to sleep. Well, at least she tried.

Dust tickled Y/N's nose and she sneezed. Now, fully awake, Y/N grumbled and lay in bed for a few more seconds before reluctantly climbing out of her warm and cozy blanket nest. Begrudgingly, she dragged her feet to her bathroom, where she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

She took a moment to glance at herself in the mirror. Combing her hand through her gleaming blonde hair, she sighed.

"God. When did my hair get so fried? Should I just dye it back to my original hair color," she murmured.

Suddenly, Y/N snapped her head up, gazing intensely at herself in the mirror and lightly gasping, as if she had just remembered something important. What was it?

"Oh. OH MY DAYS," she yelled.

Today was the day of Jackson Wang's party. And she didn't have a dress. Everything in her closet was weeks out of date and she hadn't had time to go on a shopping spree in the last few days. She brushed her fingers against the clothes in her closet. Nothing piqued her interest. Everything just seemed so. So boring.

Y/N sighed again and gazed mournfully up at the ceiling. The party would start in 3 hours and she had no clothes and her hair, makeup, and nails were still raggedy af. Cutting through the silence, a knock was heard on her door.

"Y/NNNN are you ready for Jackson's party?" Her best friend Yuna said.

Yuna had long black hair and her makeup was always perfectly done. Her big chocolate orbs always caught the attention of the guys and Y/N couldn't even be mad about it. Yuna was just that perfect. She had great grades, was kind to everyone, and even volunteered in her spare time. Yuna was the most popular girl in school and Y/N knew that she was lucky to know her.

However, sometimes Y/N couldn't help but wonder why such a perfect girl like Yuna would want to be friends with a basic, poor girl like her. Y/N had no money, compared to Yuna. Y/N's long blonde curls were the result of Yuna dragging her to the salon due to her black hair being "boring and out of trend."

Sometimes, Y/N felt like Yuna was controlling her life but she loved Yuna. Yuna was her best friend and Y/N wouldn't have her life any other way.

"I'm coming! Just give me a few seconds," Y/N called from her room. A faint "okay" was heard on the other side of the door and Yuna's footsteps receded away. Y/N made her way in front of her mirror and checked out how she looked today. Sighing, she finally turned towards her bedroom and made her way downstairs.

As Yuna caught sight of Y/N, she smiled sweetly and gestured towards the empty seat beside her at the dining table. Just then, Y/N's mother came out of the kitchen carrying two plates of delicious looking breakfast sandwiches. Smiling, her mother put the two plates in front of the two girls.

"Omo, auntie, you didn't have to do this," Yuna said to Y/N's mom, who loved Yuna simply for bringing Y/N out of her shell. Y/N had been an introverted girl who stuttered all the time before she met Yuna.

Y/N's mother smiled. "It's no problem, dear. Eat up! I'm sure that the party will be tiring and you need all the energy you can get in order to dance with those boys, eh?" Yuna giggled shyly and looked down as Y/N's mother chortled.

Y/N also looked down, but for a different reason. Why does Mom always praise Yuna when she's here and completely ignore me? I'm her daughter, not Yuna. Y/N felt jealous and guilty. She shouldn't be jealous of Yuna! Of course her mom loved Yuna. Everyone does! Even Changbin...

Ever since he had saved her from falling out of a plane like Wonyoung, her old neighbor, in elementary school, Y/N had a massive crush on Changbin. Now that they were in high school, Changbin had really grown up. He was now 6 feet tall and super muscular and all the girls loved him.

Sigh. I don't have a chance with him, Y/N thought to herself.

Yuna noticed Y/N's downcast face and smiled. "Y/Nnie! Why do you look so down today?" her big eyes watered cutely. "Is it because I intruded on your breakfast time? I'm so sorry," Yuna wailed. "I know you love your food more than anything else!"

Just then, Y/N's five brothers came down the stairs.

"Hey! Yuna! Don't listen to my sister," cried Yeonjun, the oldest. He was very handsome and his flinty eyes narrowed as he looked at the trembling Y/N.

"Yeah! Don't listen to her! Come sit next to me instead," said Huening Kai, the youngest. Kai was Y/N's step-brother through her dad with Amelia, a stunning and gorgeous lady that was 5'11" and had long, jet-black hair. For some reason though, he spent more time at her mom's house...

Soobin, the second oldest and leader of the pack, looked disappointed. He sighed and took Yuna's seat as she got up to sit next to Kai. Soobin avoided eye contact with Y/N and filled his plate, scooting his chair away from Y/N and wrinkling his nose.

Y/N frowned. Do I smell bad or something? She surreptitiously sniffed her armpit but couldn't find any weird odors, only the scent of her favorite peach and lavender perfume. Everyone else at the table either looked away or grimaced in disgust. Y/N was not a very subtle person and clearly lacked the ability to comprehend some social cues.

Just then, Taehyun sneezed. Taehyun was Y/N's twin brother, yet he never seemed to really like her that much. Although Y/N and Taehyun used to get along when they were younger, everything changed when Taehyun noticed that they didn't really look similar, despite being twins. In fact, Y/N didn't look like any of her family at all, including any of her 7 dads. However, Y/N on the other hand, was 100% sure that they were twins

"W-what's wrong? Do I...smell?" Y/N stuttered. Although she couldn't catch social cues, she for sure still had shame. Taehyun shook his head but Y/N noticed that he couldn't look her in the eye.

"You're lying to me aren't you, oppa...what are you guys not telling me?" Y/N pleaded. She sniffed delicately and pearly tears welled up in her eyes. Her pale cheeks and nose was now dusted with a rosy tint. Deep down, Y/N had a suspicion that they were hiding something from her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "W-well, whatever. It doesn't really matter..."

Soobin shrugged nonchalantly. Y/N looked around at the looks of the other boys, but all of them wore a face she couldn't decipher. Sighing, she finished the last bit of her bagel and her orange juice.

"C'mon, Yuna. Let's go get ready for Jackson's party," Y/N said quietly as she got up from the table. Slightly hanging her head, she walked up her stairs dejectedly, only to feel as if Yuna wasn't following her. Turning around, she glanced back at the table. Yuna was still sitting there and giggling at what Beomgyu, Y/N's middle brother, was saying.

"Stop, Gyu-oppa! You're making me laugh too hard! I already did my makeup this morning and if it smudges, it's your fault!" Yuna managed to gasp between her laughter.

Y/N's crystalline orbs shimmered with tears as she ran up the stairs and slammed the door to her room behind her. Everyone is ignoring me, she thought sadly as she sat on her bed. Just then, she heard a knock on her door.

"Babygirl, it's me, appa. Can I come in?"

Y/N's lip quivered as she debated in her head whether or not she should let her youngest dad, the infamous Jeon Jungkook, inside her room.

"Go away, daddy! I don't wanna talk to anyone. If you want to scold someone, you should scold my jerk oppas!" Y/N screamed at the door, crossing her arms and hiding her face.

"Aigoo, babygirl," Jungkook sighed. "You should never bottle up your emotions. Come on, sugarplum. I'm your appa, you know you can always talk to me."

Jungkook opened the door and sat beside Y/N, slinging his veiny, tattooed arm around her shoulder. Y/N sniffled delicately and turned to rest her head against her daddy's toned chest.

"Daddy! All of my oppas are being so mean to me! They keep scrunching their noses when they look at me and none of them are telling me why!" Y/N sobbed uncontrollably.

Jungkook's jaw clenched as he sighed once again. I need to tame those boys, he thought to himself. I need to show them who the REAL alpha of this family is before they ruin my plans and hurt my babygirl Y/N more.

He turned around to face Y/N, a look of pity and softness resting on his chiseled face. "Don't worry babygirl, appa will talk to them for you, okay?"

“Nae, appa,” Y/N sighed cutely, wiping away her delicate, glasslike tears. Jungkook smirked to himself. Yeah, he thought, that’s right. Those boys won’t stand a chance against me. I’ll protect Y/N.

previous <- masterlist -> next

#kiss me or bite me #sunghoon #yn #reader insert #writing #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction

0 notes

kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing.

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish.

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he’s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views.

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that.

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in.

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss.

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid.

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you.

There it is.

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm.

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence.

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here.

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had.

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection.

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you.

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming.

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite.

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing.

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.”

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway.

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames.

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute.

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using.

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him.

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this.

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light.

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often.

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier.

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way.

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge.

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket.

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back.

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin.

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still.

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds.

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist.

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments.

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him.

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder.

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat.

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren.

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips.

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise.

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have.

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be.

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips.

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time.

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story.

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick.

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said “you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure.

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him.

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric.

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense.

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him.

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum.

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly.

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over.

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you.

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience.

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back.

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this.

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs.

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably.

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly.

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him.

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally.

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes.

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him.

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

4K notes · View notes

landinoandco · 3 years

Note

Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

444 notes · View notes

allthingsarmin · 3 years

Note

armin with a bimbo gf?

TW: NSFW! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ~

Ft. Bimbofication, manipulation, sex, and other topics alike!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

Thank you for your request, anon! I hope you like what I wrote, and please feel free to request more.

(I am HERE for this Armin brain-rot lmao! I love reading fanfictions/headcanons like these).

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Armin with a bimbo gf:

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin is a very polite man: always making sure you go to bed on time, putting your dead phone on the charger when you fall asleep with it in your hands, reminding you to drink water throughout the day, always lets you spend his own money on something you want, and kissing and massaging your forehead when you have a headache. He is so genuine and wouldn’t do things like this for just anyone.

ᵔᴥᵔ However, there’s a dark side to him where he can’t possibly deny how much he enjoys his dumb, empty-headed bimbo girlfriend. The way your hair is always done-up and suffocating from hairspray, the way your lips are always glossy with your favorite red cherry lip gloss, the way your short skirts and low-cut shirts show off your perfect figure, the way your perfum smells like roses and cheap sex, your intense sweetness and life-or-death dependency towards Armin, your fake innocence when you look at him with tears and ruined mascara running down your face, they way you can’t hide your wetness when he forcibly touches you in public… it makes Armin’s body tingle and cock hard. It brings out a dominant side to him that is inescapable as he manipulates your mind and pussy with thoughts only of him and his cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ He loves how there are literally no useful or smart thoughts going through that little head of yours. He thinks it’s so cute how you play with your hair, chewing gum, breasts nearly spilling out of your shirt while you sit in his lap, head empty, trusting him when you’re completely vulnerable. He loves it because he can so easily take advantage of you.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin is a master manipulator. So intensely and quickly does he break you down so that you’re only able to think about taking his large cock into your pathetically wet cunt and sweet mouth. This way, he can practically slide into you whenever and wherever he wants:

Laying on the bed and playing your game console? Armin wants you to keep playing the game and desperately try to win while he’s teasing your needy entrance with his fingers which were previously thrusted into your whiny mouth.

In the shower trying to get clean? He sneakily joins you, gently pushing your back against the cold shower walls and eagerly lifting up your chin so that you can look into his kind yet menacing blue eyes. “Let me help you,” he offers while reaching for the body wash and proceeding to tenderly massage it into your breasts, purposely flicking over your nipples. “Right now?” you whine already tired from the previous sex sessions earlier today, (but you can’t deny that you’re already excited because he’s literally the only thing your brain thinks about). With his free hand, he suddenly thrusts a finger into your soft cunt. “It’s lamentable how wet you already are for me,” he coos, excited to know that he really has done a good job manipulating that little brain of yours. You whine and grip onto Armin’s toned upper arms. He kisses your forehead, the water and sweat making his golden hair stick to him. The heat from the flowing water and from Armin’s body is making you go crazy as you prepare for your velvety walls to get pounded once more.

Trying to study for an upcoming test? Armin continuously distracts you: “Baby, you’re no use for stuff like this,” he says pointing to your textbook, “why don’t you focus on being pretty, yeah?” He rubs your thigh and crouches down next to you, politely opening your legs with an arrogant grin on his face, slightly taken aback by the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear under your short skirt but definitely not surprised considering what an air-headed whore you are. He dives in between your thighs, attacking your clit with his tongue, not letting you pull away and eagerly waiting to hear your pathetic moans.

ᵔᴥᵔ He thinks it’s so hilariously adorable when you walk into his office and offer to help him with his work.

“Hahaha,” he laughs, feeling pity for you. He pulls you into a warm hug and kisses your forehead. “My work is too difficult for someone like you, baby,” he says as he pats your empty head. “Why don’t you go to the bedroom and play your game? I’ll be there soon.” He smiles innocently, making his eyes wrinkle on the sides. ‘He is beautiful,’ you think. His soft blond hair and his kind, ocean blue eyes. You really are so stupid, being tricked by his angelic appearance. When he finally comes to the bedroom, his smile is somewhat sinister, and his eyes have gone dark.

ᵔᴥᵔ Lets you dress slutty in public for two reasons: He likes to see the jealous looks from other perverted men seeing that you are in fact Armin’s slut… and he can use the fact you dress slutty in public against you while he’s fucking you.

“You’re such a whore… trying to get other mens’ attention in public.” His right hand is clenching your frail neck, and he forces you to maintain eye contact with him as you tell him it's not true and that he's the only one you want.

ᵔᴥᵔ Likes it when you wear your hair in tight pigtails - that way he can hold onto them while he’s fucking you from behind ᵔᴥᵔ Really likes missionary position - he likes to grip your neck so that you can maintain eye contact with him as your dolled-up face pleasurably contorts, lips drooling with saliva, tears that eat away at your mascara as he’s cruelly pumping in and out of you. He likes to thrust unbearably slow when he wants to hear you whine and complain about needing more - then, he can degrade you and call you an ungrateful whore. Also likes to suddenly go fast to hear you loudly gasp and incoherently babble as you powerfully squirt on his cock. No matter how many orgasms, your mind and pussy only think of and need more of him. ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really likes it when you ride his cock. This way he can watch your breasts violently bounce up and down as well as tease your nipples right when you’re on the edge. Loves to see how desperately you squirm when you’re sitting upright on his cock, begging for more stimulation. You like this position too. You can see how blushed Armin’s sweet face is, how his chest quickly rises and falls, and how the muscles in his arms are tensed up.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin loves when you give him oral. He loves seeing your once beautifully done hair become a complete tangly mess as he grips onto it and forces his cock inside your mouth. Loves to hear that ‘pop’ sound when you finally pull your glossy, pink lips off of his thick, blushed cock. Is all about eye-contact when you give him oral. He likes to see your face become sprinkled with tears as he pushes his cock deep into the back of your throat - the desperation in your eyes during this moment while you look at him nearly makes him go feral.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really loves to overstimulate you, especially because he can take advantage of you during these moments. By the time you’ve calmed from your orgasm, you are completely fucked dumb, head even emptier if at all possible, eyes rolled to the back of your head, whimpering at the slightest movement, only thinking about Armin, his angelic face, and his sweet, brutal cock. You’re already so tired from your last orgasm, but he takes this chance to start rubbing your clit again. As you jerk away from the painful sensation, he laughs, continuing his slow, unbearable rubbing. You beg him to stop, and Armin becomes angry. “Oh, you want me to stop? Am I not good enough for you? Not good enough at making a dumb whore like you feel good? I guess I’ll leave now.” He immediately pulls away, rudely turning his head away from you. His blond hair is nearly covering his deep blue eyes which are spilling with fake tears in hopes that he can manipulate you with fear and pity. As you apologize for your selfish behavior and beg him to stay, he darkly grins and harshly pats your sensitive pussy. “That’s what I thought,” he coos laughingly, going back to abuse your wet cunt.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really likes to edge you, and he never lets you cum without his permission. He likes to sit you up on the bed, spread your legs, and tease your throbbing clit with his thumb. He can see sweat begin to coat your forehead, your cheeks dust with redness, and your glossy lips become lined with drool as your breasts are exposed and spilling out of your bralette. Still circling your clit with his thumb, he gets really close to your ear - his blond hair tickling you - and asks you if you want to cum. His beautiful blue eyes sparkle as he laughs when you only respond with whimpering and incoherent words. As you needily buck your hips against his thumb, he knows he has succeeded in manipulating you to become a useless, empty-headed slut with thoughts only of him.

ᵔᴥᵔ Though the relationship dynamic you have with Armin might seem intense, he’s an actual sweetheart. Aftercare with him is the best: you both take a warm bath together, he brushes your hair, massages your back, and kisses your forehead while thanking you for letting him enter your body. He always cuddles you before bed, holding you tightly and kissing your forehead. Not only that, but he honestly just really cares about you. He reminds you to drink water, tells you not to eat too many sweets, makes sure you exercise and that your period is regular, reads to you, and asks you to tell him about your day… and he never ever forgets to slip in a few “I love you”s while you two make love. Armin also loves to buy you things from flowers to hair ties or anything else you want. He just wants to make you smile because you make him smile. Overall, this man will never let his bimbo girlfriend down whether it’s sex or love.

#armin arlert #armin x reader #aot x reader #tw bimbofication #aot smut #armin smut #anime

800 notes · View notes

luimagines · 3 years

Note

Maybe you caring for the chain? Like doing small things like helping tend to their wounds or brushing their hair. Love the blog btw!

Masterlist

A little TLC?

A little Fluff?

That's my JAM! You got it hun!

It's gonna be in bullet point list because I can.

Content under the cut!

Time

Can you imagine this guy?

It's late at night and you wake up unexpectantly.

It was supposed to be your shift but it's way past that

It's even past the shift after yours

Time is still by the fire pit

Awake

You get up

You walk over to him

Place a hand on his shoulder

He looks up at you, tired as hell

He knows he's been caught.

"It's past your bed time Old Man"

"I just wanted to give everyone a little break."

And like?!

You push him aside gently and he lets you sit next to him.

You pull him towards you and you place his head on your lap

"What am I going to do with you?"

"It's not your job to take care of me."

"Someone has to. Malon will have our heads if you come back home any less than how you left."

You start running your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes in bliss.

It's quiet and neither of you say anything.

Time quickly falls asleep from your touch and you stay up to take your watch.

You take the next watch after as well.

Soon enough the sun rises.

And you let Time sleep in.

Twilight

What about Twilight?

Twilight was mid battle, fighting multiple bokoblins at once.

At some point he had lost his sword.

This boy hunkers down and starts swinging.

It's a one on five boxing match.

Twilight, to say the least, is not unharmed by the end of it.

You notice that he's not stable on his feet and has a few bloodied patches on his clothes, not to mention the (hopefully) small cut on his forehead.

It's more blood than you'd like to see.

You're quick to help and let him lean into your side.

You bring to the side of the fire, quickly taking out your personal med pack and begin to clean his face.

He's not seeing straight so he starts to speak nonsense.

"Twilight honey, please, don't." You try not to laugh.

"Have you seen them though?"

He's talking about you.

"They're so amazing. Did you know that? They're so cool. They know so much about history and animals and plants."

"Twilight please, I can't reach the cut. I need to disinfect it."

"And animals and Epona and Epona likes them so much. I want to show them my home and my family. Colin would love them. And I think they and Illia would be best friends."

You're blushing but it's soft and you're smiling because Twilight is smiling and he looks so happy at the thought.

You wave away Hyrule when he comes to check on The Rancher, letting him know that you've got it covered.

It's sweet.

Wild

His is a little more obvious

"Wild, what on earth?"

He comes back from an afternoon adventure.

He's absolutely filthy.

There's at least three sticks in his hair.

At least those are the ones that you can count because they're sticking out.

Multiple leaves.

You think you see something move.

"What?"

He doesn't care.

You sigh and stalk up to him.

You grab his arm.

"You're my prisoner now"

Wild tries to fight you but you're determined.

You sit him and take out a brush, taking his pony tail down.

It's a long battle.

But after at least thirty minutes of fighting the branches and leaves and what might have been a tiny mouse like creature.

The mouse thingy just ran away.

You're trying to be as gentle as you can but Wild has a hard time sitting still.

Some leaves leave easier than others and there were actually seven separate branches in his hair that you take out one by one.

But when you get past the battle and clear the foliage, Wild relaxes.

Soon you're only brushing his hair.

He needs to wash it.

But you're not anywhere near any body of water so it'll have to wait.

Wild hums every time you pass the brush pleasantly through his hair.

Within moments his hair is soft and tangle free.

You look around him to look at his face.

He's calm and blissful.

You smile and go back to brushing his hair.

It's a calm afternoon from then on out.

Warrior

Warrior isn't one to accept TLC in public but-

It's after a battle.

And you look over to Warrior who's taking off his armor at a painstakingly slow pace.

It takes him a while.

He grimaces in pain and begins to rub his neck and shoulder.

You bit your lip and sigh.

You make your way over to him.

"Need a hand, soldier boy?"

"What?"

He's confused.

"If you got pain, I can help with that."

You don't want to make it a big deal or weird.

"How?"

"I want your permission first. I'd have to touch you."

"Sure. Why not? Do it."

You nod and get behind him.

Soon enough you start kneading his shoulders and lower neck.

He grunts at the pressure you put on it but otherwise lets you continue.

He's stiff as a brick.

So you're there for a while.

But when you get tired or when he's better off than how you started (whichever comes first) you let him go.

He rubs absentmindedly where your hands just were and smiles in relief.

"Thanks."

You grin.

"Any time."

Sky

Now Sky is a bit different

He's not shy about TLC

He's frequently the one to take care of the others

You however notice something off one day

His hand was always in a fist and you pulled him aside.

"You ok? What happened?"

Sky sighs, and opens up his palm

A large cut down the middle

It cut through his leather and gloves and was bleeding through the cloth Sky was holding.

You gasp and begin to help him out then and there.

"How did this happen?"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"It's your hand!" You take off the gloves as gently as you can and bring out your med pack. "You kind of need that."

You sit him down and clean it off.

He's quiet as you work, watching you tend to his wound.

He flinches slightly at the disinfectant and hisses.

You begin to wrap his hand with a clean bandage.

You're meticulous in wrapping it up completely.

It's slow and you're losing progress in travel time but neither of you care.

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to. You can't stop me."

"I'm pretty I could if I did."

"Yeah, probably."

More silence.

You take moment to study your work and gently turn his hand over.

You give it back to him.

"How did you even manage that? You're usually so much better at this."

"It's... embarrassing..."

"Do I even want to know?"

"...No... Thank you... For helping."

"Of course."

Legend

"Legend, sweetheart, what are you doing?"

He's the kind to avoid public soft and gentle actions

Even if he's the kind to desperately want them

He'll push people away and fail to satisfy himself by yearning from a distance.

One day, you have enough.

He's trying to sit next to you and he's fidgeting, internally fighting himself over something but it's too close to you to not notice.

You sigh and pull him close to you, wrapping both of your arms around him even as he tries to fight you off.

He's trying to struggle out of it but you just snuggle into his shoulder.

He doesn't fight you for long.

Legend borderline melts into your embrace and he hugs your arm in return.

"You've got a weird sense of pride, you know that?"

You start to run your hands through his hair.

Legend scoffs

"You're the one being weird."

"Mh-hm."

"You are."

"Just say you want a hug."

"....No."

"Well I guess I have to hug you more often then."

"........No."

"Yes."

"Ok."

Hyrule

Now, you're pretty sure that The Traveler's love language is touch, so he's not shy about keeping his hands to himself.

There's always a hand on your shoulder, a comfortable hug when your sad, gentle fingers to wipe away your tears and he's doesn't mind when one (or three) members fall asleep on him.

"Oh my- Hyrule" You drop your defensive stance from being startled and stare at him.

He's bleeding from at least three different areas.

"Hyrule, sugar, sit down!" You rush over to him and help him get into a sturdy position.

You're quick to pull out a potion and help him drink it.

His hand makes its way onto your shoulder as he settles himself down.

You push his hair out of his face with frantic but gentle fingers.

"Hellllllloooo." Hyrule attempts to smile but his head swoops to the side, too heavy for him to keep it up.

"Oh, what happened?" You push up his sleeve and begin to treat the nasty scrape on his forearm.

You know the potion will eventually take care of the injuries

But you're impatient.

"I... Got caught up in a cave."

"Why did you go alone?" You stress as you begin to clean the blood off.

"...Couldn't find Wild."

"Oh my goodness, take me with you next time." You nearly shake him. "Don't go alone."

Hyrule nods and sighs in relief, as the potion begin to effect.

"That sounds like fun."

"Can you not get hurt, for just like... five minutes..."

"I can't make that promise."

"Promise me, you'll at least tell someone that you'll be going somewhere."

"I can do that."

Wind

Wind is down for anything.

He's not afraid of any sort of TLC.

You're sitting next to each other one day for dinner

You both eat until you're full and lean up against each other.

The warmth of the fire heats both of you like a comfortable blanket.

Wind leans up against you and sighs.

You smile and wrap one of your arms around him.

Wind then snuggles closer and hums happily.

You set your plate aside and begin running your fingers through his hair.

Within moments Wind starts to fall asleep against you and he lets himself fall even more against you.

"Sleep hon, I got you."

" 'mkay." Wind adjusts himself one more time and lets his breath even out.

You let him sleep against you for a while until you also decided to hit the hay.

One of the others sets up his bed roll and you pick up Wind.

You begin to make your way over and set him down but your resident pirate holds onto your arm

"-Don't." Wind whines.

You hide your snickers and try to get him to let you go.

He doesn't.

Welp...

You bite the bullet and ask Hyrule to bring over your own bed roll.

With the help of some of the other boys, you get it set up as close as you can get it.

Adjusting your grip, you lay on your side and pull Wind close.

It's bedtime.

So you fall asleep next to him.

Four

Four is actually little more like Legend in terms of initiating contact than he cares to admit.

He's not going to push anyone away if they come to him.

Even if he wants something as simple as a hug, he won't be the one to go and hug someone.

Someone will have to hug him.

But this boy yearns.

And he's bad at hiding it.

You take it upon yourself when he's being a little off to talk to him

Brush his hair

Hold his hand

Hold him close with your arm over his shoulders, a side hug when your both walking.

He lets you.

He leans in closer and tilts his head in your direction.

A silent request for pats.

If you've been playing with his hair for long enough, he'll let you braid it.

You take the time to keep it out of his eyes and occasionally put flowers in it when there's more down time.

Four won't say it but it's one of his favorite times

He wears his flower braids with pride

It's not something that he would do for himself but he wouldn't change it for the world.

It makes him feel special.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #call me out if none of ya'll like the pet names #I feel like I've gone a little off course for this ask

406 notes · View notes

biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Text

AN: Here’s part 2 of my nurse reader and Levi request! It recently came to my attention that I was lowkey confused, I realize that you guys were asking for part 2 to my solider Levi and princess reader but I’ve been working on this one instead😂😂 So I’ll try and get to that other one soon.

ALSO 139 SPOILERS

Part 1

Summary: Levi’s dreams are coming true

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: mentions of scarring, blood, struggling to walk, kissing, angst

_______

The first few weeks were rough, he struggled to do the most mundane tasks, his fingers shook as he gripped a pen, his breathing was labored when he climbed stairs. He hated every second of it, he knew that this was part of being injured and recovering, but still, he felt weak and exposed. He also knew that it was unlikely that he would ever be the same as he was before his accident, this didn’t bother him too much. However, the thought of you only knew him as a frail wounded soldier rubbed him the wrong way.

He used this as motivation to better his condition, with the knowledge that he would not function the same as before. He quickly found out that holding a pen in his right hand was now much too difficult, so he began practicing with his left instead. He also realized that being in a wheelchair was not for him. He hated being pushed by anyone, mainly because Gabi once lost control and sent him rolling down a busy street. So he began to use a cane or crutch, he also found out that he tired much faster using this method. But he much preferred it to the chair.

After only three months of being discharged, Onyankopon had sniffed out an affordable space to open a modest cafe. The space also had a short set of stairs that led to a one-bedroom apartment above, which originally deterred Onyankopon from investing due to Levi’s state. But Levi had insisted that he would manage, so on a gloomy Thursday afternoon, they signed the papers and bought the place. Gabi and Flaco had been ecstatic to help decorate the space, scouring antique shops and pawn shops for the best (and cheapest) pieces of furniture.

Levi had watched the pair carry in the first table, a round wooden piece fit for two along with mismatched chairs to go along with it. At first, Levi disliked the way the furniture clashed, but he soon grew to like it. As the kids slowly carried in more each week the space began to feel homier. The kitchen in the back was teeming with tins of tea, recipes that Onyankopon swore by were tacked up on bulletin boards. Each weekend Onyankopon would bring the kids back with armloads of ingredients to test out the recipes he had been gathering while Levi had been in the hospital.

Soon they had perfected a menu, with croissants that were crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, sticky-sweet cinnamon rolls, and lemon tarts. Levi had never been a fan of sweets, but he knew that most people were, so each weekend they slaved over the stoves and made huge messes of flour and sugar. After two months the cafe was rather put together, tables and chairs of all sorts spread about the room in an inviting pattern. A chalkboard menu that was slowly expanding was sprawled out over the main counter, which was being stocked with pastries.

Onyankopon had brought in a box full of glassware that he had found on the side of the street, Levi had sneered at him as he watched him carefully wash them.

“What are you planning to do with those?” Levi asked as Onyankopon scrubbed the dust off of the glass.

“We can use them as centerpieces. Maybe we could cut some flowers from that field?” He said as he placed the glass vases and cups on the drying rack.

“I suppose,” Levi grumbled, happy that he hadn’t planned on using them as cups.

Finally, the day came when the menu was rounded enough and the furniture polished to open the shop. Levi hated to admit his nerves, but the truth was that his stomach was in knots and his heart was hammering out of his chest as he flipped the wooden sign on the door from closed to open.

Gabi had whooped and hollered, Falco had clapped ecstatically and Onyankopon popped open a bottle of champagne. Levi had given them the slightest of smiles as the group retreated behind the counter to wait for someone to wander in. Levi sat back on a stool that Falco had thrifted for behind the counter, his cane resting against his knee as he watched the door with a steady gaze.

“Can I be in charge of the pastries?” Gabi pleaded, big brown eyes wide as she clasped her hands together. Onyankopon shot a sideways look to Levi who inhaled sharply.

“As long as you don’t spit in the food.” Levi relented and Gabi leaped into the air in her excitement before jogging back into the kitchen to take stock.

“Falco you can carry food out.” Onyankopon offered and Falco nodded a gleam of determination in his golden eyes.

“I’ll run the register and Levi you can brew the tea.” Onyankopon looked pleased with himself after assigning the roles and Levi shrugged in indifference. The minutes ticked by and the door remained shut, the wide windows let the warm morning sun seep into the room, yet it carried no joy. Or at least it didn’t summon any deep feelings from within Levi. Just when Levi was about to give up and go brew himself his own tea before calling it a day, the door opened, the bell tinkling softly.

His mouth fell open when he saw you, in your plain clothes, a pair of dark dress pants and a silk dress shirt. Your purse was slung over your shoulder and in your hands was a bright bouquet of flowers. You pushed some stray strands of hair off of your face as you stepped into the cafe.

“(Y/n)! You made it!” Falco rushed around the counter and took your hand in his to lead you to the counter. You laughed warmly and allowed the young boy to drag you across the room.

“You’re the first person to come in.” Onyankopon mused softly as he stood behind the register, hands placed firmly on the counter. Your eyes widened in surprise before another warm grin passes placidly across your features.

“I am?” You asked, leaning on the counter and throwing a playful glance at Levi who was half hiding behind Onyankopon.

“It’s true.” Gabi groaned dramatically fanning her face, she had been fidgeting anxiously in the back for the past hour eager to serve guests.

“What can I get the good nurse?” Onyankopon steered the conversation back to business as usual.

“Ah, I’d love a cup of camomile and hmm maybe one of those lemon tarts.” You hummed, leaning over to examine the pastries that had been set on display in the glass containers.

“Excellent choice, that’ll be seven pounds.” Onyankopon slid the key into the keyhole in the register and the old thing sprang open, spilling some change. He chuckled as he awkwardly collected the spare change.

“Takes a gentle hand.” He explained as you smiled at him with the money in hand. Levi sighed and reached around Onyankopon to take the money as the larger man squatted down to retrieve the stubborn coins.

“Congratulations Captain, you’ve made this place your own.” You said, slipping the money into his hands, the pads of your fingertips brushing his calloused palm.

“Thank you, nurse (L/n).” He mumbled, trying in vain to fight off the butterflies swarming in his stomach.

“You’re so very welcome.” You watched as the rag-tag bunch began to hustle around the kitchen, Levi limped to the stove and began to boil the water in the kettle, Gabi was pulling on a pair of gloves before she began to inspect the pastries, looking for the best one. Falco gestured for you to follow him to that round table at the front of the store, right by the large window. You covered your mouth to hide an affectionate grin as he pulled the chair out for you. You sat and thanked him as you made yourself comfortable.

“I’ll bring your food to you miss.” He even did a bow which was when you could no longer hide your amusement.

“Falco, too much.” Onyankopon was also laughing behind the counter as the young boy scurried back to grab your pastry, which Gabi had carefully chosen just for you. Levi was now steeping the leaves in one of the mismatched sets of china that they had collected. Once the tea was steeped to perfection he set it on the tray with the pastry and Falco carefully picked it up, using both hands.

He set the steaming plates in front of you and you thanked him once more. You felt a bit awkward as the group watched with expectant eyes as you took the first bite. Your eyes lit up, it was just the perfect mixture of sweet and sour, the breading crumbling on your tongue.

You nodded and held a thumbs up which made Gabi clap her hands and squeal. Falco laughed and shook her shoulder, a giddy gleam in his eyes. Levi bit back another smile, not eager to let you pull them from his lips so easily. A few moments after you had begun to eat, the door tinkled open again, this time it was an older couple. They ordered and sat down near you, murmuring about the decor and such. As the morning wore on, more people began to wander into the shop, families and starry-eyed couples alike. You sat at your table, a small amount of paperwork from the hospital spread across the tabletop. You worked well into the afternoon, not necessarily because you needed to but because you wanted to catch Levi and check in on him.

You got your chance when the crowd ebbed and the orders slowed. The shop was once more empty and you could see the way that Levi limped between the sink and the stove. You gathered your courage and stood from your spot, leaving your purse and papers behind. Onyankopon was helping the kids in the back as they prepped for the pastries for tomorrow.

“I’ll dry if you wash.” You offered and Levi shot you a look over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ve been taking up that table all day, let me earn my keep.” You teased, carefully stepping behind the counter and into the kitchen. He did not oppose as you sidled up beside him and began to towel dry the dishes he had already scrubbed clean. You worked like this for a few minutes in silence, the sound of dishes and sloshing of water filling the air between you.

“You seem to have healed well.” You commented as you accepted another clean plate.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyes trained on his task. You noted that he no longer wore bandages on his hand where his fingers had once been.

“How’s your knee?” You asked and he bristled a bit.

“....it’s fine.” He said after a slight pause.

“I can look at it if you’d like.” You offered and he inhaled slowly before releasing his breath in one long exhale.

“I’m fine.”

“Then let me look at your fingers, if you are doing dishes it’s likely to get infected.” You were a tad embarrassed to admit that you simply wanted to feel his skin against yours once more. But luckily Levi felt the same. He paused his work and grabbed a towel to dry his hands off before slowly extending them to you. You accepted them and ran your fingers over the callouses that decorated his palms before pulling his hand closer to your face to get a good look at the nubs where his fingers once were.

Just as you had thought, they were fully healed with puckering pink flesh from where stitches had once been.

“They look well, you should be fine, just...be mindful of how much time you spend washing the dishes.” You hummed, turning his hand over in yours to examine the back of it, old and new scars littered the expanse of his hands and up to his forearm.

“Okay.” His words were breathy and a bit choked. You snuck a glance up at his face and smiled sheepishly at him as you released his hand, which fell slowly back to his side. His cheeks were a soft pink, hints of a blush from the heat of your touch alone.

“I would suggest looking into some gloves.” You advised and he rolled his eyes.

“How am I supposed to wear gloves without my fingers?” He asked, holding his hand up as if to emphasize the loss.

“You seem to have adapted well, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You assured him with a nudge to his side before you fell back into the easy rhythm of drying the dishes.

____

You fell into a routine, stopping by when the cafe first opened to grab a cup of tea before your shift. Then you would go off to work and return later that afternoon to help Levi clean up. One rainy day you came in an hour later than usual, your scrubs soaked as you had forgotten an umbrella. Onyankopon and the kids had left earlier that week to go get the other cadets from Paradis, leaving Levi to tend to the shop alone.

As you entered you flipped the sign to closed and then wrung your sopping wet hair. Levi stood behind the counter, watching you with his one steel eye.

“What took you so long?” He asked before turning to do the dishes. You scoffed and looked back out at the window, the rain was pelting down mercilessly against the glass. But you said nothing, having learned long ago that arguing with him was pointless.

“What have you got for me?” You asked instead wanting to throw yourself into the work he had for you. He put you to work in the kitchen, taking stock and sweeping the floors until you thought that you would collapse. It wasn’t that the work that was taxing, but the work on top of the hours you had already clocked in on your feet at the hospital.

When he was pleased with your cleaning he waved you off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. Your clothes were still wet, as you watched him thumb through his earnings of the day in the register. You now knew a fraction of what he had put those cadets through all those years ago.

“Levi?” You tested, his name falling sweetly from your lips. He turned slowly, pausing his counting to give you his full attention.

“What is it?” He asked, placing the change back into the register.

“How would you like to get some dinner?” You offered with a shy smile. His eyes widened and he whipped around to shut the register.

“Only if you’re buying.”

____

So now you sat across the table from him, your leg bouncing anxiously under the table inside the warm tavern. He seemed much less anxious, hands folded in front of him and his gaze void of any particular emotion.

“So...you come here often?” You tried to start the conversation, for the first time finding it difficult.

“No actually, I despise these places.” He answered literally and you nearly blanched, worried that you may have upset him or offended him in some way by bringing him here.

“What? We don’t have to stay then we can-” You were reaching for your purse but he held up a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine.” He assured you and you relaxed back into your seat.

“Why do you hate these places?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Not a fan of drunk men and shitty tavern food.” He shrugged indifferently. If he had been feeling braver he would have told you that it reminded him of his childhood and his mean drunk uncle.

“Ah, I see.” Your shoulders slumped and you cleared your throat to fill the silence.

“I don’t usually come to bars often either. Can’t trust me around beer.” You joked but Levi arched a thin brow.

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, my dad was a drunk and they say that it runs in the family. So I’ll never touch the stuff.” You shrugged and Levi was caught off guard with your honesty. He only hummed in response. Not long after that, the food arrived and the two of you ate in near silence, the sounds of forks scraping plates and wine sloshing in glasses. You paid for dinner and the two of you slowly made your way back down the street, which was slick with rainwater. You eyed Levi’s arm a bit longingly, wanting to feel his warmth pressed against you. You rubbed your biceps in an attempt to get the message across but he seemed clueless still. So you sighed and decided to take yet another risk, in one swift motion you slid your arm through his and he went rigid. His steps faltered and you looked over at him with a smirk curling at the corner of your lips.

“Is...this alright?” you asked and he nodded tensely before resuming his pace. You were grateful that his apartment was so close to the tavern, as it began to pour once more. But of course, you could not run because you feared that he would injure himself, so the two of you simply picked up your pace. Levi held the door for you and the two of you stumbled into the dark cafe, the tables and chairs looked almost like skeletons as you weaved your way through them to the back set of stairs.

“You can stay if you’d like.” he offered, a glimmer of uncertainty flashing over his features, clearly he was treading just as lightly as you were.

“I’d like that very much.” You grinned and the two of you climbed the stairs to his small apartment. The floorplan was open, the kitchen and living room were all in one space. The furniture was also mismatched here, he set about lighting candles even though you knew that the building had electricity. You wondered if it was a force of habit, all of his years on that island with no electricity, or if it was an attempt to set the mood. You said nothing all the same as the candles set the room aglow in warm light.

“It’s nice,” you commented and Levi hummed in agreement.

“It’s no barracks.” He said as he shook the match, a small trail of smoke curling up from his fingertips.

“Do you miss the military?” You asked as you slipped out of your shoes. He paused, a thoughtful look passing over his face as he pondered your question.

“At times, there are things that I miss. But no, I wouldn’t go back.” he shook his head, damp locks of raven hair falling in curtains over his brow.

“I can imagine.” You agreed as he slipped out of his coat and hung it on the coat rack, you did the same and he gestured for you to follow him to his room.

“I have some dry clothes you can borrow.” He said as he sifted through his drawers, pulling out a simple cotton shirt and a pair of loose-fitting pants. He held them out to you and you accepted them with a smile. You noted that the clothes were larger than the ones that he pulled out and you wondered who they belonged to.

“Whose clothes are these?” you asked out of curiosity and a pained look crossed his face. But you wondered if you had imagined it because of how quickly his features reset into his stoic mien.

“An old friend.” That was all he said before leaving you to change. You pulled the clothes on slowly and carefully knowing that these are likely one of the last things he had that belonged to his friend. Once you were done you stepped out of the room to find Levi already changed and boiling a kettle over his small stove. The shirt hung loosely off of your frame and you pulled the collar up gently as you crossed the room to stand by his side.

“Whatcha making?” You asked softly as he shot you a brief glance over his shoulder.

“Tea.” He said bluntly as he reached up into the cabinets and pulled out two mugs. You hummed and moved to take a seat at the modest table that was pressed against the back of his couch.

“Sounds good.” You said as you slipped into the seat, watching as he moved around his space. You noted the way his cane carried the majority of his weight, the way his fingers trembled as he poured the water to steep the tea leaves. You moved to get up and help him, but decided against it, reminding yourself that he was independent and could do these tasks on his own. Sure enough Levi finished the tea and carried the two cups over to you and placed them gently down on the table.

You thanked him quietly and blew a puff of air over the surface of the green tea, sending ripples through the liquid. He watched you with unreadable features, hands crossed on the table and his cane resting against his thigh.

“Tell me of your home.” You asked, daring a look over the rim of your cup. He inhaled and a far away look crossed his face as he thought of an appropriate response.

“As I knew it or as it is now?” He mumbled as he brought his own cup to his lips.

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he let the hot liquid sit in his mouth hoping to buy himself more time.

“Either way it was shitty.” He said after a few moments of silence. You set your cup down and gave him your full attention.

“We never had much, and I can’t say that it was a happy life.” He said, sneaking a glance at you to guage your reaction.

“I figured as much.” You commented and he shrugged.

“There isn’t much left of the landscape after the rumbling, but that’s everywhere now.” He grumbled, beginning to lose himself in his own memories.

“There used to be open fields and massive trees inside of the walls but…” He winced, flashes of blood and gnashing titan teeth, campfires, the heavy breathing of horses, explosions of thunder spears followed by the tangy metallic scent of blood.

“Levi?” Your voice was soft and filled with concern, he snapped out of his reverie, his fists clenched around his cup.

“Sorry.” He choked out, his tongue feeling fat and his mouth dry.

“It’s alright, I shouldn’t have asked.” You waved your hands and quickly took a sip of your tea.

“No, it’s not your fault.” He dismissed you, trying to calm the racing of his heart.

“I’m sure that you’re tired, I’ll see myself out.” You began to scramble, reaching for your things and pushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Levi wasn’t sure why, but he felt an urgent need to reach out and grab you. Before he could dismiss the sense, his hand had already shot out and caught your wrist.

You looked back at him with wide eyes, not moving a muscle. He stayed still as well, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. If he was hurting you, you showed no sign.

“Don’t….it’s storming.” He said stupidly, as he stood keeping a hold on your wrist. Once he was on his feet he took a step towards you and his hand slipped down to intertwine his fingers with your own.

“O-Okay.” You squeezed his fingers and he returned the gesture, eyes blank although they darted between your eyes and lips every few seconds. You took a step closer so that the tips of your feet touched his, your breaths mingling together. Finally his eyes settled on your lips and you unconsciously licked them as you wondered what he would taste like. Green tea no doubt, just as bitter and tangy as his personality seemed to be.

You let out a shaky breath as he reached out, the back of his hand brushing that pesky piece of hair off of your cheek. He hesitated but gently grasped your face in his calloused palm, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You carefully broke free of his grasp on your hand so you could smooth down the fabric of his shirt above his heart.

He swallowed thickly before lifting his chin, eyes trained on your lips. You tilted your head and met him the rest of the way, your lips slotting together perfectly. His other hand came to rest on the other side of your face, and you whimpered. You opened your mouth wider, your tongue slipping past his lips to taste him. He did taste like green tea after all, bitter and overwhelming. You couldn’t get enough, your hands slipping up the column of his throat to find the shaven underside of his hair.

To your surprise he pulled away with a grunt, grey eyes wide and surprised. You looked back just as shocked but then you smiled. He blinked at you for a moment before pulling away completely and turning his back to you and running a hand through his locks.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me.” He apologized and you shook your head.

“I actually quite liked it. You aren’t my patient anymore Levi.” He remained silent, his back turned to you in shame.

“You’re not even a Captian anymore, you’re just a man.” You assured him and he turned to look at you now, eyes filled with a certain grief you couldn’t quite place.

“Is that how you see me then?” His voice was flat and you couldn’t tell if he was offended or pleased with the response.

“No, I see you as a good man, who has been hurt one too many times. Someone who needs a….companion.” You settled and he finally faced you once more.

“I shouldn’t have done that to you.” He grunted, steadying himself on the table.

“It’s okay Levi, I-I like you.” You felt like you were tripping over yourself to assure him that he was not crossing any lines.

“....” He remained silent, those sad grey eyes trained on your face as your chest heaved, panic quickly raising.

“I promise you I’m fine. I’ve actually been wanting to kiss you for some time now.” You sheepishly admitted, rubbing the side of your arm.

“I know.” He groaned his hands coming to hide his eyes and you felt even more distressed, you should’ve known better.

“Look, Levi I want to be with you, and if you want the same then we can be. You don’t have to-”

“Damn it (Y/n) I want to, but I don’t” He let out another frustrated grunt before his fist came down hard on the table, the cups rattling loudly at the disturbance.

“I don’t want you to be chained to someone like me.” He admitted, eyes averted.

“You don’t have to feel that way, I’m choosing you.”

“Promise?” His eyes finally met yours and you nodded curtly, a look of determination and confidence plastered to your face.

“Promise.” You assured him, sitting back down at the table to show that you weren’t going anywhere.

“And if you bother me too much then I’ll leave.” You teased, but he seemed to take it literally, sinking back into his own seat and nodding in understanding.

“That’s good.” He sighed, shoulders sagging in relief.

“I really should go home, think about this and we’ll talk tomorrow.” You stood, leaning over the table to peck a kiss to his lips. He nodded and watched with tired eyes as you left his apartment.

201 notes · View notes

butterflyyeo · 3 years

Text

jealous

pairing — han jisung x reader

genre — angst (?)

tw — slightly suggestive (?)

wc — 3035

a/n — yall idk wtf this is im trying my best to get better at writing angsty (???) stuff so im really sorry if this is absolute trash T^T. feedback is appreciated !!

———————————

you hadn't seen your brother, chan, for a long time, six months to be exact and of course you missed him dearly. when he called to tell you that he was coming home for a while you nearly cried of joy, however, the happiness faded when he mentioned that he'd be bringing his band mates, that meant changbin... and han jisung.

it wasn't exactly a secret that you didn't get along with jisung, and you never knew why. he always just irked you a bit, and on purpose too. it was constant bickering between the two of you, fortunately, chan and changbin had learnt to tolerate it. speaking of changbin, you actually quite liked him and he was rather fond of you too. chan knew this, in fact, chan saw all the underlying tension between you and the rest of 3racha. he was thankful that he was your brother, but he didn't have to intervene, he was fully aware that you could handle these things on your own. unless of course you asked for help, and in that case, he would go to war for you.

a sturdy knock hit the door a few times and you ran to the door, unlocking it.

"channie!!" you leaped onto him and hugged him tightly. he dropped his bags down to the floor just so he could hug you back. "i've missed you so much!" you said as you hopped down and picked up both of his bags.

he grinned, "i've missed you too, y/n."

your smile dropped almost instantly as you saw jisung leaning against the doorway, a smirk across his face that just made you want to slap him. faking a smile, you greeted changbin, "hey changbin! good to see you." he gave you a sincere nod and smile before picking up his suitcase. "now chan, shall i put these in the guest room?" you asked, chan was already going through the fridge, looking for food.

"mm." he mumbled. you took it as a yes and heaved his bags to the guest room, dumping them beside the bed. as you turned around to help changbin with his luggage, someone blocked your way.

"you didn't say hello to me?" jisung questioned, though, it sounded more like a statement.

huffing, you responded, "why would i?"

"because you love me," he said as he leaned in close. "and you missed me."

"you must be confused." you shrugged and pushed past him. that was too close for comfort. you thought as you walked out and picked up changbin's last bag.

"hey y/n," chan began, "what's for dinner?"

you sighed, "i'm gonna have to go shopping chan, i don't have enough food for all of you." you went to put your shoes on and a jacket too, since it was getting late and more chilly outside. "who wants to chauffeur me to the grocery store?" you joked.

"anything for you, my love." jisung said teasingly as he held his hand out to you.

"uh, i'd rather not." you swatted his hand away. "c'mon changbin, let's go!" you said while dragging changbin up from the sofa. he groaned, but honestly he didn't mind so much. he was just being a big baby.

the car trip was short and quiet, mainly because changbin was tired from all the travelling they had done to get to your house. plus, their schedule has been so full lately, they were lucky to have this time off.

wandering through isles, you began picking up ingredients and placing them intro a trolley.

"you really missed us?" changbin began, "me and chan of course..." he trailed off but a playful smile tugged at his lips.

"of course i am! jisung on the other hand..." you rolled your eyes, pushing the trolley along.

he chucked, "you really still hate each other? after all these years?"

you huffed, a little too obnoxiously, "yes. i do still hate him. and i'm sure he despises me too. i don't even know what it is... it's just... the way he treats me. he acts like he deserves my friendship, which he doesn't. it's something you earn."

"remind me to never piss you off." changbin laughed as he put a bag of chips in the trolley.

once you had everything you needed you put it through the register, changbin insisted he paid, since you were letting the three of them live with you.

shortly after you arrived home, you began cooking. while he wasn't the best, changbin offered to help as best he could. you actually thought it was really sweet. he passed you utensils, condiments and he even set the table.

meanwhile, chan was fast asleep in the guest room and jisung was showering in the provided ensuite. you turned to changbin and high fived him, "we're all done! i should wake up chan. you can start eating if you want." proud of his efforts, changbin sat down and began to eat.

gently pressing the door open to the guest room, you whispered, "chan? dinner is ready." you walked over to him and was about to softly shake him when jisung walked out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. his tousled wet hair dripped little drops of water down his chest and it was rather overwhelming to see him so exposed.

contrary to your thoughts, he couldn't care less, he enjoyed watching the way you panicked and blushed heavily. if this is what it takes. he thought.

"oh! um, jisung. i'm so sorry, i was just coming to tell chan that dinner is ready, i should've knocked or-" you blurted out in a quiet voice, weary of chan waking up.

jisung let out a low chuckle, "it's fine, y/n. i'll wake him up once i've dressed."

"thanks," you said as you went to leave, "wait... no snarky comment?" you puzzled.

he said nothing, just winked at you as you closed the door.

you joined changbin at the dinner table, sitting across from him. "how's the food?" you asked as you took a bite for yourself.

"y/n it's amazing! you're seriously a great cook. man, i wish i was this good." he said as he took a small bite of the spaghetti you had prepared.

at that moment, chan dawdled out the door and jisung closely behind. they joined you at the table and also began eating.

"don't worry about it binnie, i can teach you to cook, years of living on my own without chan seems to have payed off a bit." you joked.

"binnie?" jisung questioned the nickname you had given to changbin, whilst changbin sat there furiously blushing. he tried to hide it by lowering his head but that honestly seemed it give it away more.

"sounds cute." you shrugged, not thinking much of it.

chan cleared his throat, "okay so here's the plan for tomorrow," he began, taking another bite of spaghetti, "changbin and i have to go talk to JYP about an upcoming show we are doing, so we could be gone all day with that. there's lots to plan."

"wait a second, why am i not going? i'm apart of 3racha too." jisung stated.

changbin replied, "did you get the email from him?"

jisung shook his head, "well, no but-"

"then you're not coming." changbin grinned cheekily, knowing this upset jisung.

when everyone had finished with their meal, changbin stood up and collected all the dirty dishes, only to begin washing them in the sink. you quickly tried to stop him, "oh, changbin! don't worry i can do that." you said as you tried to take over, but he refused.

"no. you won't. dinner was great! you've done enough for today, if we are gonna be living here for the next few weeks then i might as well be of some use." he smiled at you before nodding to the tv, signalling for you to relax.

tired as ever, chan come over and kissed your head goodnight before going back to sleep. by now it was nearly 10pm, you had a late dinner but that was because they arrived later than expected.

you sat down on the sofa and began browsing movies. you decided to watch your favourite, even though you've seen it a million times. once he was finished with the dishes, changbin joined you on the sofa to watch the movie, you quickly filled him in on all the little details of the plot.

jisung was still sitting at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone, he was contemplating coming to join the two of you in watching the movie, but decided against it when he saw changbin put his arm around you. rolling his eyes and scoffing a little too loud, jisung stood up and went to the guest room he was sharing with chan. he tried his best not to slam the door but somehow that didn't happen.

"huh, wonder what's up with him?" changbin asked, looking at the door wide eyed. "i'll go check, sorry, i'll be back in a sec." he followed jisung into the guest room, you heard changbin quietly ask if he was okay.

what started as a whispered discussion soon became a hushed argument, you were worried that soon they would start yelling at each other. luckily chan was a deep sleeper, he also slept with earphones in, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't hear any of it.

the minutes passed and their quarreling continued, you debated going in there to try and make some peace but you decided against it, this seemed to be something personal between the two of them. instead, you switched off the tv and the lights, and went got ready for bed. as you were about to close your eyes you heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door opening and closing. whoever it was, you knew they could take care of themselves, they were both adults and probably just needed some space.

when you woke up, it was around 7am. you quickly threw a hoodie on over your shirt, feeling a bit cold and walked into the living space to see changbin, sleeping softly on the sofa. it only just occurred to you that there wasn't enough beds for all of you in your current living situation.

you gently peeked into chan's room to see him sprawled out, sleeping a deep sleep. you smiled to yourself, knowing that he got all the sleep he deserved. the empty bed in the room didn't go unnoticed however.

it was jisung who left last night. and he didn't seem to be back yet.

slightly worried, you decided to cook up some bacon and eggs for when the boys woke up.

"morning y/n." you turned around to see changbin leaning against the kitchen counter.

you smiled, "morning! sorry if i woke you up, i'm just making some breakfast, you've probably got time to shower if you want to before you eat."

"serious? man, what did we do to deserve you?" changbin said looking at you sincerely.

you laughed lightly, "nothing, now go! and please wake chan up when you get out."

he just chuckled as he walked away and closed the guest room door behind him. you wondered if you should make enough breakfast for jisung, would he be back soon? if he wasn't, he could just re-heat it, you thought.

the last few pieces of bacon finished cooking so you begin buttering the toast, you made a lot knowing that chan has a big appetite and there was a good chance they wouldn't have time to eat today. your train of thought was interrupted once again by changbin.

"anything i can do to help?" he asked, he was dressed quite smartly, but you understood as he was going to console with JYP himself.

"nope! i'm just about done, plus, you wouldn't want to dirty your clothes," you said as you began serving breakfast.

"ah okay, i woke chan up, he wanted to have a shower so he shouldn't be too much longer." he said, "can i?" he asked, pointing to one of the cups of steaming hot coffee you set on the counter.

"of course!" you said. a question burned in the back of your mind and you wondered if you should ask or not. "uh, changbin..." you began.

changbin knew exactly what you were about to say, "he's okay, y/n. he just wanted some space." his eyes stared at the wall blankly. there was more to this than needing space.

"so.. why was he upset then? you guys had a pretty heated argument.."

changbin's eyes met yours, "i'm sorry you had to hear that." he took a sip of coffee, "we just had a bit of a disagreement, it happens all the time... you see, the thing is-"

"good morning to my favourite people!" chan said as he waltzed out of the guest room, also looking rather sharp.

you and changbin smiled at his enthusiasm, "morning!" the two of you chimed back.

"breakfast made? hot coffee? you seriously are the best sister in the world! it's like we're staying at a five star hotel." chan said picking up a mug of coffee.

you laughed, "i'm your only sister."

he shrugged, "still the best," he took a sip and hummed, looking around the room, "hey, where's jisung?"

"i don't know. i heard him leave last night." you said, placing two plates of food at the dinner table.

chan sent a red hot glare at changbin, knowing exactly why jisung would've stormed out. changbin looked away sheepishly.

"okay, well, breakfast is ready! eat up, you guys have a busy day." you said sitting down in front of a plate.

chan and changbin began discussing things for later with JYP, while you just sat their mindlessly eating your breakfast. you still couldn't help but wonder where jisung had went, and why he wasn't back yet.

you had completely zoned out and was just picking at the scraps of your plate when chan spoke, "well that was seriously great y/n! what a good way to start the day."

you smiled at your brother, "ah, it's the least i can do, maybe you could ask JYP if you can dedicate a song to me in return."

the three of you laughed and you began to clear up the plates while the boys finished getting ready. shortly after, they said their goodbyes and closed the front door behind them. although the door muffled his voice, you heard chan say to changbin, "you seriously fought over that again?"

you sighed to yourself, what were you going to do all day? you decided to finish cleaning up and have a shower.

you let the water run until it was warm before stepping in, you had to remember to be mindful because you often got carried away and distracted in the shower and lost track of time.

which is, exactly what happened, before you knew it you had been half an hour. shit, you thought. as you wrapped a towel around your body, you remembered jisung and how you saw a little too much of him after he showered. you blushed furiously just remembering it. that's when you realised that your feelings for changbin were just a deflection of the feelings you have for jisung. you're ridiculous, you thought. he hates you, despises you, enjoys making fun of you. you quickly ruled out the possibility of him ever returning the feeling and finished dressing.

you spent the day multitasking some of your studies while watching movie after movie, trying to be somewhat productive. your stomach suddenly growled and you checked the time, "must be time for lun-" you said aloud, "oh, it's 5pm." you laughed at your silly sense of time and how you had got carried away all day. but you soon frowned, 5pm and jisung still wasn't back?

since the boys weren't home you made yourself a light meal and sat at the dinner table alone, listening to some background music. it was actually quite relaxing. the evening golden sun shone through the window as you finished eating. you quickly began washing up your plate, when you heard the door creak open.

"oh, chan you're home! i just finished eating, but i can make something for you and changbin just give me a min-" but when you turned around to greet them, it wasn't chan or changbin. it was jisung. "jisung."

"are you gonna admit that you missed me this time? or do i have to leave for longer?" he smirked but you just sighed in relief. you hated to confess that you worried you wouldn't hear his stupid comments for a long while.

you spoke quietly, "of course i missed you. i was worried sick."

"oh? worried now?" he toyed.

"yes, worried! i heard you arguing with changbin and then you left!" you exclaimed.

his face turned away at the mention of changbin's name, "well sometimes changbin and i argue, it's normal."

you scoffed, "that's what he said."

"he told you?" jisung asked.

"no, he didn't tell me what you fought about, but it would seem that it isn't the first time because i heard chan scolding him after they left this morning." you admitted.

"they're not back?"

you shook your head, "nope," jisung looked away, "look, i just had dinner but is there anything you want?"

"yeah." he began.

"what would you like?" you asked.

"you." jisung said bluntly, catching you off guard. "and changbin wants you too."

it all made sense now. "oh, i, i see.." you said, quite taken aback. "jisung, it could ruin everything, we'd be playing with fire."

"i don't care, y/n." he said taking a few steps closer.

"but, chan is my brother." you said.

"he's my best friend." jisung countered, coming closer again.

"what about changbin?" you asked.

"he's also my best friend." at this point, jisung was standing face to face with you.

"hang on a second," you took a step back, hitting the counter, "i don't owe you anything." you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.

he smirked, "but i owe you everything."

#han jisung x reader #han jisung #han #stray kids han #stray kids scenarios #han jisung angst #han angst #stray kids imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios

198 notes · View notes

bakubub · 3 years

Text

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

214 notes · View notes

alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Make a Move

➣ Pairing/genre: roommate!Hobi x reader

➣ Premise: You thought ‘Hope’ was a girl, but looking at the hot dude currently claiming to be your roommate, you might be wrong.

➣ warnings/tags: pure fluff, reader gets a lil sick for a minute

➣ word count: 4.6k

➣ a/n: this was a commission by @hobi-gif for Army for AAPI! Thank you so much for commissioning this, I hope you enjoy it! You guys, check out ways to get involved in this awesome cause by clicking the link!

You look down at the application, and back up at the person standing in front of you. Down, then up.

Twice more, just to wrap your mind around the dumbest mistake you’ve ever made.

“Umm…Hope?”

The man fidgeting nervously before you manages a bright smile. “Yep. That’s me!”

Again, you stare down at the application. “I…you’re the one moving in?”

Hoisting the heavy-looking box higher in his arms, the man – Hope if he’s to be believed, offers a strained nod. “Yeah, it’s sort of a nickname…Hoseok. I’m Hoseok.” He looks around, poking his head through the doorway to your small apartment. “Mind if I set this down? It’s kinda heavy…”

You step aside in a daze, watching as Hoseok sweeps inside and sets the box down with a thud on the counter. A moment later another head is peeking inside before carrying in another box.

“Hey, I’m assuming you’re one of the roommates?” The newcomer asks, sweeping some of his ashen-blond hair off his forehead and extending a hand out to you. You take it with some trepidation.

“I am. And you’re Hoseok’s friend?”

“Namjoon. Just stopping in with a few of his things. Oh,” Namjoon waits until Hoseok walks back outside before continuing, speaking to you in a hushed tone. “I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for letting him move in. Ever since our landlord found out we had seven people instead of six, it’s been hard trying to find a place but Hoseok was adamant he be the one to move out. Did want to separate the others-”

“Wait, woah,” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “Seven? Seven people living in one tiny apartment?”

Namjoon tilts his head to one side, brows furrowed. “He didn’t tell you? That’s why he moved out; someone had to. Our apartment has a six person limit, so once our landlord found out Hoseok volunteered to be the one to move out.”

It appears that Hoseok hasn’t told you a lot of things.

“I…no, he didn’t mention that.”

Namjoon moves on, unphased. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for taking him on. It’s nearly impossible to find a place this time of year, and we weren’t sure if you would be chill with having a male roommate, but it really means the world. This way he can stay close to us-”

“Close?”

“Yeah, we live just a few blocks away. He didn’t say that?”

At that moment Hoseok walks through the door, still wearing that sheepish smile that he directs at you.

“No. He must have forgotten to mention that, too.”

Once Namjoon has left and Hoseok gets into organizing all of his things, you set up camp on the couch. Book in hand, you can’t help but assess your new roommate.

A part of you wants to get rid of him, but another part of you is interested to see what might unfold from this strange situation. You’ve never had a male roommate before, and if Namjoon is any representative for what this man’s friends look like…

You suppose it’s not too much of a pain to allow Jung Hoseok to stick around for a little while.

Hoseok hums to himself, occasionally making little sound effects as he puts a bowl away or opens a cupboard. Every once in a while he’ll ask you a question, like, “Is this spot free to use?” or “Are you allergic to anything?”

You’re nearly heading to bed when Hoseok knocks softly on your door. Your rooms are on opposite ends of the apartment, something you find yourself being extremely grateful for tonight. The knowledge that a stranger is chilling in your apartment is enough to have you feeling a little worried.

It’s simple. Sure, Hoseok seems nice enough. Friendly even. But he’s too attractive to be normal.

“What’s up?” You ask, opening your bedroom door to see Hoseok with his arms full of shampoo and other shower items.

Despite the large bottle of Pantene blocking his chest, it’s easy to tell that he doesn’t have a shirt on beneath his robe.

Indeed, the sight before you is enough to have you clutching the doorframe until your knuckles are white in an effort to not gape.

Wearing nothing but basketball shorts and fluffy white robe, Hoseok shuffles from one foot to the other. “Oh, I was just wondering if you had any preference about where I put my things in the bathroom. You know, if the left side is specifically yours or something like that.”

“Huh?” You shake your head, forcing yourself to only look at his eyes. That turns out to be even worse, in some weird twisted way. “Oh, yeah. Well, I tend to put most of my stuff on the left side of the vanity. But you can put your stuff wherever. I’m not worried about that.”

Hoseok nods, taking a step back. He bids you a quiet goodnight before retreating back down the hallway.

A few seconds pass as you remain in your doorway, thinking hard.

No, you’re not worried about sharing a drawer in the bathroom or putting the A/C on a lower setting, as he asked you about earlier.

You’re just worried about the fact that you’ve never found a pair of basketball shorts more attractive than just now.

Basketball shorts paired with nothing but a robe?

“This is gonna be great,” you mumble to yourself, closing your door and leaning against it. Only when you hear the sound of the shower going do you allow yourself to relax. “I’m gonna die.”

2 weeks in

“I’m headed to the store, you need anything?”

You pause, assessing the contents of the fridge. “Um…eggs?”

It’s not very often the two of you are in the apartment at the same time, your schedule being polar opposites. However, it’s always relatively friendly. Still a little awkward, but always cordial.

Hoseok – or Hobi, as he’s repeatedly invited you to call him – scans his little list. “Already on the list. Anything else?”

“You already put eggs on the list? Like, for me?” The two of you by no means share groceries.

Hobi shrugs. “Yeah. I figured you were nearly out since you eat them like every morning.”

“Hey, not every morning-”

“Every weekday morning.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Tell me I’m wrong. I’ll wait.”

You groan. “Yah, just go. I’ll text you if I need anything.” Turning back to the fridge, you utter out, “Annoying little-”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

You wait until you hear the door close to let out a sigh. “Huh.” You didn’t even realize that he would notice those kinds of things. It’s a strange feeling, having someone notice even the most mundane parts of your routine.

You…like it?

Opening up a few of the cupboards, you realize that you’re nearly out of bread. You grab your phone, pulling up Hobi’s contact and calling him. He picks up after a couple of rings.

“Hey, did you remember something else?”

“Yeah, would you mind picking up some bread, too?”

“Oh, good one. Um…” you can hear him moving around, and you swear you hear the click of a pen before he speaks up again. “Wheat, right?”

Again, that strange feeling stirs in your chest. “Right.”

2 months in

“I’ve never met anyone as obsessed with skincare as you.”

Hobi chuckles darkly, beginning to apply his night mask to the other side of his face. “I doubt you’ve ever met anyone with such oily skin before, either.”

You lean up against the doorframe, resting your head against the side of the door. Hobi continues applying the crème, looking utterly focused on the task. His forehead scrunches up in little lines as he looks up, rubbing underneath his eyes.

If you’re being completely honest, it’s adorable.

To put the icing on the cake, he begins humming to himself and leaning in closer to the mirror, making you chew on the inside of your cheek. It’s horrible enough that he has to be wildly endearing, but does he really have to be so cute?

It’s exhausting.

“It smells good,” you sigh out, eyes drifting shut. Hobi’s good looks isn’t the only thing that’s been exhausting to you lately. School is trying its best to wreck you and you hate to admit that it’s doing a great job of it.

“You want some?”

Eyes fluttering open at his question, you furrow your brows. Hobi is looking at you in the mirror, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He squeezes out a bit of the night mask onto his finger, turning to you.

“You already washed your face, right?”

“Mm.”

“Good,” he nods more to himself than to you. “Close your eyes.”

Giving him a distrustful look, you realize that you’re too tired to bother bickering with him at the moment. Instead, you close your eyes and hold your breath.

A moment later the cool feeling of Hobi’s fingers dabbing the cream on the tip of your nose. He repeats the action all over your face, his other hand coming to cup your chin as his thumb absentmindedly traces your jaw.

You suddenly feel extremely off balance, swaying on your feet. Hands shooting out to steady yourself, you instinctively cling to the front of Hobi’s sweatshirt. He chuckles lowly, making you tighten your grip.

“Don’t fall over,” he mumbles, beginning to rub the night mask into your skin.

You don’t say anything, settling for an annoyed huff. After a moment, Hobi takes up humming the same tune he was before. The two of you settle into a comfortable daze, your shoulders relaxing as the seconds tick by.

“You know,” Hobi muses as he switches to your right cheek. “We’re pretty good roommates. Don’t you think?”

“Mm. I’m still angry you put ‘Hope’ on your application, though. That was a dirty move.”

Hobi’s laughter has you opening your eyes just to catch the expression of happiness he’s sure to be wearing. Sure enough, his head is thrown back and his heart-shaped smile in on display, the sight tugging at the corners of your lips.

Catching your eye, Hobi smirks. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

You purse your lips, melting a little at the concentrated pout that forms as Hobi resumes applying the night mask. He’s moved up to your forehead now, making your eyes drift shut again.

“I vote you make me French Toast one of these weekends.”

“Oh, and that’ll solve it?”

“No, but it’s a start.”

He chuckles quietly, pausing and then tapping lightly against your cheek. “All done.”

Opening your eyes, you see the slightly confused look in Hobi’s eyes as he squints down at you. “What?”

He blinks. “What?”

You nod at him, “You look confused or something.”

“Oh.”

When he doesn’t answer after a long moment, you step back into the hallway. “Alright…I’m heading to bed. Thanks, Hobi.”

His brows are furrowed as he turns back to the mirror, the confusion only growing. “Night.”

3 months in

You’ve quickly come to learn that there are pros and cons to having Hoseok as your roommate.

One very strong pro is the fact that he’s a clean freak. You swear you haven’t had to worry about vacuuming for the past three months, he always beats you to it.

“What are you doing?”

He pauses mid-fold, eyes wide as he looks up at you. “…folding.”

“My laundry?”

He glances down at the shirt in his hands as though just realizing that these are your clothes. “I…yeah. Yeah, I am. It’s just, you left your basket out here by the couch so I figured I might as well fold it and put it away if you’re gonna leave it out here.”

The passive aggressive tone in his voice rolls off your shoulders, knowing that he didn’t intend it that way. It’s obvious to tell that something is on his mind as he continues to you’re your shirt and place it atop a neat pile beside him.

You find yourself sitting cross-legged across from him and silently joining in on the impromptu folding party. Once you finish, Hobi clears his throat and avoids eye contact with you.

Perhaps it has to do with the fact that he accidentally grabbed the same pair of lacy black underwear at the same time as you, which ensued in an awkward match of tug-of-war that you quickly won once he realized what he was holding.

“So, the guys are doing a thing tonight.”

You blink, pulling the folded laundry toward you and getting up. “…ok.”

Hobi’s face lights up in a grin, and he jumps to his feet. “Really? You’ll come?”

Perhaps it’s the utter joy you see in his eyes or the way he’s currently shaking your shoulders and causing the socks on the top of your pile to tumble to the ground, but you burst out laughing.

“Hoseok!” You shout through your laughter. “You didn’t even invite me!”

He immediately stops shaking you after that, scrambling for some form of a response. Swiping one of the pairs of socks that slipped to the ground, he kneels down on one knee and looks up at you with a giddy grin.

“Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to visit my friends tonight?” With no shortage of sound effects, he offers up the socks as though proposing to you with a priceless diamond ring.

“You’re an idiot.”

Hoseok’s smile only grows. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Hobi’s light knock on your door goes unnoticed as you slumber on, completely dead to the world. After you had put your laundry away, you felt a wave of exhaustion overtake you.

He knocks again, and this time you rouse just enough to grunt out something incoherent. He slowly opens the door, poking his head inside.

“You still gonna come with me, sleepyhead?”

His chipper voice makes you wince, your head pounding. “Mm, jus gimme…” you close your eyes again as the dull light filtering in through your blinds is enough to send you spinning. “…a sec.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and you think that Hobi must have left. A second later, however, you hear him padding across your floor.

“Are you sick?” He answers his own question as he places his hand against your forehead. “Oh, jagiya, you’re burning up.”

The pet name has your temperature rising a bit more. “Mm fine.”

Hobi chuckles softly, taking care to be quiet. “Have you eaten? Where’s your water bottle?” They’re all rhetorical questions apparently, because moments later he’s scooping your water bottle off the floor and tiptoeing back out of your room.

After what feels like hours later, Hobi sidles back into your room with a full water bottle, some soup he must have microwaved, and another glass of liquid. It’s steaming, the scent making you scrunch up your nose in distaste.

“What…” you can hardly muster up the energy to finish your sentence. Hobi perches on the edge of your bed, carefully placing everything on your nightstand.

“It’s medicine. Drink it, and it’ll help. But first you need to sit up.”

Easier said than done. Your body is exhausted, and your arms shake a bit as you attempt to scoot back against the headboard. Cheeks burning a brighter red, Hobi thankfully doesn’t comment on it. He just patiently readjusts your pillows and tucks your hair behind your ears with meticulous movements that have you smiling softly.

“Ok,” he sighs out once that’s been taken care of. “Now, eat some soup…” his words trail off as he hands the bowl off to you. He watches as you bring the spoon to your lips, mumbling, “Blow, it’s hot.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you follow his instructions. Once you’ve eaten over half of the soup and feel too full to continue, he hands you the steaming cup that has you scrunching your nose up all over again.

“C’mon,” he urges, “my mom used to give this stuff to me all the time when I was a kid. It works like a charm, promise.”

“Mhm.”

“What?” He crosses his arms, frowning. “You don’t believe me?”

You shrug, mindful of the full contents of the glass. “It’s just easier said than done, that’s all.”

“Here, I’ll take a sip to show you that’s it’s not bad!” Reaching for the cup, you burst out into a fit of laughter as Hobi stares down at the liquid with unabashed terror. He clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “Right…just one sip…”

Blowing across the surface carefully, he sacrifices his tastebuds. The instant he swallows, he thrusts the cup back into your hands and dives off the bed. “Ach!” He rushes out of the room, no doubt heading for the kitchen. Indeed, a moment later you hear the faucet running and wonder if he just decided to shove his head under the running water instead of wasting time on grabbing a cup from the cupboard.

With your water bottle on hand, you attempt to chug the medicine. It’s horrid, making you gag, but you continue until the contents are drained. You’ve just managed to drink some water to rid yourself of the lingering taste when you hear Hobi’s phone ring.

“Hey hyung,” he’s still in the kitchen, but you can hear him clearly. “Oh, yeah…I don’t think we’re gonna make it. No, it’s not that, she said she’d come.”

You freeze, holding the still-warm cup close to your chest. For some reason, your stomach does a little flip when you hear the way Hobi’s tone changes as he speaks about you. It’s infinitely softer, something you don’t recall hearing before.

“She took a nap and woke up with a fever-” he pauses. “Yeah, I just gave her medicine. But she needs to rest. She’s exhausted. What? Ugh, really Jin? I’m not-” The sound of Hobi shuffling about has you leaning closer to the open door, trying to hear what he’s saying. His voice is much quieter when he speaks next, but you can still hear bits and pieces of what he’s saying. “I can’t just make a move on her while she’s sick, that’s unethical!”

Clapping a hand over your mouth before he can hear you snort, your eyes widen. Make a move?

On you?

“Yah, quit it. Tell everyone I say hey, I’ve gotta go.” Again there’s a pause, quickly followed by an annoyed hiss. “See, this is why I never tell you anything.”

He quickly says his goodbyes after that, and you scramble to appear normal despite your pounding heart. You hear Hobi’s sigh from the kitchen, and you wish you could know what he was thinking.

“Alright,” Hobi calls, heading back into your room. The second he enters you feel as though you’re seeing him for the first time. “Let’s get it- oh, you already finished it?”

You blink, suddenly blinded by the sight of his adoring smile. As he settles down on the edge of your bed, you manage a feeble nod.

“Jagi,” again with the pet name, “you look exhausted. Let me take the dishes and how about you go back to sleep?”

Despite the fact that you literally live in the same apartment, the thought of Hobi leaving you alone in your room has you stalling. “Uh, who called?”

There’s a flicker of panic that’s quickly replaced with an easy smile. “Jin hyung, he was wondering where we were. Don’t worry, I told him we weren’t gonna be able to make it.”

You’ve heard plenty about Jin – truthfully about all of Hobi’s friends. You were excited to meet them tonight, after hearing so many stories.

“I’m sorry,” you frown, still clinging to your glass. “You can still go, if you want.”

Hobi looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Why would I…? No, I’ll stay here with you. Can’t leave a sickie on their own, you know that.”

Groaning, roll your eyes. “I feel like an idiot.”

“If you’re an idiot, I’m an idiot.”

You snort, setting your glass down before you cause an accident. “Isn’t it, ‘if you’re a bird, I’m a bird’?”

Hoseok shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. “Close enough.”

He holds your gaze for a few seconds too long, but neither one of you look away first. Instead you bunch up your blankets in your fists and offer him a crooked smile. “Thanks, Hobi.”

His eyes linger on your smile, his lips mirroring it. “Anytime.”

4 months in

Nothing has changed, and yet everything has.

Ever since you fell ill, you’ve been jumpy. Anytime Hobi accidentally brushes up against you as he reaches for something in the kitchen, whenever he knocks on your door, even when he calls you from the grocery store. It all makes you jump and sends your heart racing.

“You’re so dramatic.”

You look up at Yuri, your most brutally honest friend. “…ouch?”

She shakes her head, sinking down lower in her seat across from you. You keep boxing up your leftover food to take home, wondering if Hobi would like it.

“I mean it. You’ve been freaking out about this guy for over a month now without doing anything about it.”

You pause, looking at Yuri with wide, pleading eyes. “What am I supposed to do? He’s my roommate!”

“So what? Your lease is up in a few weeks, isn’t it? If it backfires, just move out.”

You snort. “Easier said than done. I can’t just up and move whenever I like, you know.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“Shut up.”

“I refuse. Now,” Yuri checks the time on her phone. “tell me what you like about him.”

“I never said-” you sputter, but Yuri holds up a hand and cuts you off.

“Actions speak louder than words. He’s literally your background on your home screen.”

Ok, that sounds like a bit much. It’s true, though. A week ago Hobi finally got to take you out to meet his friends. Together you went on a midnight hike (something you’d honestly never do again) and found a breathtaking view at the top. His friends, specifically Jimin and Taehyung, had practically shoved the two of you together for an impromptu photoshoot under the night sky.

The photos are a little blurry and dark, but you love them. Enough to add one as your background. “But you can’t actually see us in the picture, it’s just pretty-”

“Sure it is. You two make a cute couple.”

“W-we do?”

Yuri jumps up, clapping her hands and startling a couple just a few tables down. “Aha! See, you do have feelings for him!”

“Ok, ok,” you hold up your hands in surrender. “Just sit down.”

Once she’s taken her seat again and apologized loud enough for the couple she scared to hear her, you lean in close over the table. She rubs her hands together, looking every bit the scheming friend she is.

“Alright, let’s plot, shall we?”

Hobi checks the window for the eighth time in under five minutes, brushing the curtains aside to see if your car is in the lot yet. It’s not.

“C’mon Jung,” he rolls his neck, bouncing on his feet. “Calm down. Keep it chill. Everything’s fine.”

Everything is not fine.

Things haven’t been fine for months now, something he’s been able to deny to an impressive level. Last weeks, however, the lie came to an end.

His friends loved you. Like, ranted and raved about how funny and cool you were until he was worried he needed to organize an intervention. Then, the icing on the cake.

Yoongi had grabbed him while you were hiking back down, sandwiched between Jin and Jungkook. He nodded down at you, turning a knowing eye to Hobi.

“So…when’s that gonna happen?”

Hobi played dumb, frowning at Yoongi. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hoseok, c’mon.”

You laughed at Taehyung, who jogged up ahead. He was quickly joined by Jungkook. Hobi’s pretty sure his heart stopped beating as you turned around, searching for him. Once your eyes found his, your smile widened.

Yoongi laughed at his side. “You’re whipped, and you don’t even realize it.”

Indeed he was. Dangerously so, if he was going off of the amount of times he’s knocked on your door to ask you out only to change his story at the very last moment to ask you something stupid instead. You never seemed to mind, just laughing at his strange questions and teasing him mercilessly.

“Ok,” Hobi whispers to himself, still bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You’ve got this. Just rip it off like a Band-Aid. Quick and to the point.” He tilts his head to one side. “But not the painful part. No pain.”

He’s in the middle of his pep talk when the sound of your key in the lock alerts him to your return. Hobi is standing in the middle of the living room, looking like an idiot. Naturally, he shoves his hands in his pockets. Yeah, that makes him look less like an idiot.

The second the door opens and you step into the apartment, every thought eddies out of Hobi’s mind.

You freeze, not expecting Hobi to be standing in the middle of the living room impersonating a lamp when you got home.

“Hi…?” Hobi swallows at the sound of your voice, watching your every move as you slowly lift up the bag of leftovers. “I brought home leftovers if you want some…”

“I need you to go out with me.”

Now you’re really frozen, staring up at Hobi as his eyes widen at his own words.

“What? What for?”

“For me.”

You slowly close the door behind you, setting the food down on the counter before turning to face Hobi again. “For you?”

He nods, a panicked look in his eyes. “Yes. For me.”

“Hobi, I don’t understand. Do you need a plus one or something for an event? Is that what it is?”

Removing his hands from his pockets and taking a step towards you, Hobi shakes his head. “What? No, I need- I need you.”

It’s a good thing you already set the food down. “Me?” You squeak out, looking your roommate up and down as he takes another step.

“Us.”

Clearly there’s been a communication error. Hobi brushes his hair back from his face, chewing on his bottom lip before coming to a stop before you.

“Us,” he repeats, voice low. “I need us to be a thing.”

“O-oh.” That’s all you can manage as you try to recall if Hobi has ever looked at you like this before. It’s hard to contain yourself when you realize that he has, however he’s always been quick to mask it with something else. Or, more often than not, a silly question.

“Will- can you…” he stops, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Without his gaze on you, you gain a bit of courage and raise a hand to cup his cheek. His eyes fly open, and he offers you a shy smile. “Do you want to go out with me? On a date?”

Craning your neck, you hold your breath and plant a kiss on his cheek. You delight in the way he instantly flushes, garnering more courage by the second.

“Yes.” Then you arch a brow. “I have one condition, though.”

Hobi’s eyes are half closed as he looks down at you, appearing as though he’s slipped into some euphoric realm. “Hmm, anything.”

“I demand French Toast.”

Dissolving into a fit of laughter, Hobi sinks to the ground, taking you down with him. You protest, but not too much. Holding you tightly, Hobi subsides in his laughter enough to wink down at you. “French Toast it is.”

main masterlist

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @limiworld @jeonyoongi-jimin @buttvi @yoontaethings @sunshinejunghoseokie @delacyrose224 @jiminiesmagicshop @hitsussi

#hobi x reader #hobi oneshot #bts x reader #bts sickfic #hobi sickfic #bts roommate au #hobi roommate au #jhope x reader #bts as your roommates #hobi as your roommates #armyadvocatesaapi #armywriterssupport

383 notes · View notes

shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Spencer’s phone buzzed in his desk drawer much to his confusion. Pretty much everyone that would be calling him was here right now.

“Dr. Reid,” he answered.

“Hey Spencer, it’s me, Y/N,” you said.

“Oh! Y/N, hi!” he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to him before slipping away to the empty break room.

“I’m really sorry to have to ask this but is there any way you could pick Jo up from school and watch her for a few hours. A student dropped a vile of dimethyl sulfoxide in the lab so I need to safely clean it up and then make sure the room gets properly ventilated. I had to cancel the rest of class so I have to clean everyone else’s lab station up too,” you explained.

“Of course, of course,” Spencer readily agreed, “I can watch her for as long as you need but I have to finish my files here so would it be okay if she came to the office just for a little so I can finish up and then I will bring her back to my apartment. I’ll text you the address.”

“Yes, that’s completely fine. Sorry for springing this on you but my babysitter is out of town and I called JJ but she is in New Orleans with Will and the kids,” Y/N apologized.

“It’s no problem. It’s actually the opposite, I am looking forward to it,” Spencer smiled as he hung up the phone.

Spencer knocked on Hotch’s door hesitantly.

“Reid, what can I do for you?” Hotch looked up from the mounds of files on his desk.

“So I kind of have a kid and her mom needs me to pick her up from school and watch her so could she come here until I finish my work?” Spencer quickly rambled.

“You kind of have a kid?” Hotch asked, slightly amused.

“Well, she’s mine but she doesn’t know that I am her father and I just found out about her a week ago,” Spencer explained.

“If I wasn’t a profiler, I would think you were pranking me but you seem to be telling the truth. Yes, your kid can hang out until you finish your work for the day. Normally, I would just let you go early but you know Strauss has been inspecting the BAU with a fine-tooth comb recently,” Hotch stated.

“Thanks, Hotch. I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” Spencer ran out the door.

As Spencer slid on his satchel and was walking towards the elevators, he turned around and sighed. He almost forgot to tell the team.

“Hey guys! Quick announcement! I have a kid and her mom needs me to watch her for a few hours so she’s coming here. However, she doesn’t know that I’m her father so please use your discretion,” Spencer finished and bolted for the stairs.

“Kid, what-” Morgan started to say but the glass doors were already closing behind him.

Spencer didn’t have the time nor desire to fill them in on all of the details. He didn’t want to keep his daughter waiting.

“SPENCER HAS A WHAT?” Garcia screamed as Morgan informed her of the breaking news when she returned from her lunch break.

“That’s all he said and apparently she doesn’t know Spencer is her father so you have to keep your mouth shut, baby girl,” Morgan scolded.

“I will, I will. Do we know how old this kid is? What’s her name? Oh my god, who is the mother?” Garcia asked, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to my tech cave to do something totally unrelated.”

As Garcia stood from leaning on Morgan’s desk, the BAU glass doors opened.

Spencer was hunched over, holding Jo’s hand. Jo was dressed in corduroy pants, a lavender cardigan, and her hair was tied up in two pigtails that were bouncing side to side. Her converse were matching with Spencer’s.

“Well I’ll be damned, Pretty Boy wasn’t lying,” Morgan whispered to Garcia and Prentiss who had now joined them.

“Guys, this is Josephine. Jo, this is Derek, Penelope, and Emily. Can you say hi?” Spencer asked.

“Hi,” Jo responded meekly, scooching closer to Spencer’s leg, the one familiar face for her in the crowd of strangers.

“Hi Josephine! You look adorable! I love your little pigtails,” Penelope knelt down to her height.

“Thank you. My Mommy did them for me,”

Jo replied.

“Okay Jo, let’s go to the round table room so we don’t have to stay out here in the crazy bullpen. Let me just grab my files,” Spencer led Jo to his desk and then up the small flight of stairs.

The rest of the team watched in amazement as Spencer lifted Jo into one of the seats at the table and spun her around in the chair a few times as she started to giggle.

“Who’s the kid?” Rossi asked as he exited his office, having missed the big announcement.

“Reid’s daughter apparently,” Prentiss shrugged with a small smile on her lips.

“Okay, Jo! I’ve finished all my work. Wanna go to my apartment and grab some dinner?” Spencer asked.

Jo was sitting next to him, doodling with pens on extra lined paper. Penelope had also brought in some of her trinkets from her desk for her to play with.

“I miss Mommy,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry but Mommy is going to pick you up from my apartment as soon as she can. Come on, I’ll let you get whatever you want for dinner,” Spencer tried to cheer her up.

“Ice cream?” Jo perked up.

Spencer laughed, “How about we have a real meal for dinner and then we can have some ice cream?”

Jo contemplated this.

“Okay but you have to carry me because my legs are tired,” Jo explained.

“Oh-uh okay, yes I can do that,” Spencer stuttered, suddenly getting nervous that his clumsiness would result in him tripping with Josephine in his arms.

Jo outreached her hands and made a grabby motion and Spencer picked her up and rested her on his left hip, his right hip occupied by his satchel.

“Bye Josephine!” Emily smiled at the little girl.

She gave an enthusiastic wave as Spencer carried her to the elevator.

“What do you want for dinner?” Spencer placed Jo into the child seat in the shopping cart.

“Chicken nuggets!” Jo exclaimed.

“Chicken nuggets, it is,” Spencer pushed the cart to the frozen aisle, grabbing a bag of the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

“How about some smiley fries too?”

Jo nodded with a smile as Spencer opened another freezer door.

“And we should probably have a veggie. How about baby carrots? Do you like carrot sticks?” Spencer questioned.

“Yes, Mommy always makes me eat my veggies or no dessert,” Jo stated.

“So if you eat all your carrot sticks, then you can have ice cream. What flavor do you want?”

“Ummm strawberry please.”

“Good choice,” Spencer smiled.

“We need rainbow sprinkles too, Spencer!” she exclaimed.

“Of course! How could I have almost forgotten!” he chuckled.

Jo yawned after scooping the last spoonful of strawberry ice cream with extra sprinkles into her mouth.

You had texted Spencer you would be there in thirty minutes but he didn’t think Jo was going to last that long. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“Jo, do you want to go to bed?”

He soon realized his mistake as tears started to form in the child’s eyes.

“Where is Mommy? She always tucks me into bed and reads me a bedtime story,” she cried.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spencer quickly stood from his seat and hugged Jo, “Mommy is on her way but I think she would want you to get some rest so I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay?”

Jo nodded and sniffled. Spencer wiped her tears away with his cardigan sleeve. He picked Jo up, getting used to the comforting feeling of her in his arms, and tucked her into his bed.

Spencer looked around at his bookshelves full of technical books and classic novels in other languages but devoid of any colorful picture books that would interest a kid.

“How about I make up a story?” Spencer whispered.

Jo nodded sleepily.

“Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess and a goofy knight in the kingdom of uh- Caltechia,” he spoke softly.

“The princess and the knight were madly in love despite how the knight was so clumsy and the princess was so elegant. However, the knight went away to slay the evil dragon and both the knight and the princess were so sad to be apart. When the knight finally returned, he realized the princess had become a queen and she had an equally beautiful daughter who was now the princess. The knight loved them both dearly.”

Spencer looked down to see that Jo was fast asleep. He brushed the stray hairs off of her face and leaned down to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He figured there was no harm since Jo was fast asleep and he just wanted to say it to her at least once.

About ten minutes later, a knock sounded at the door as Spencer was washing dishes.

“Hey, I knew you wouldn’t accept money as a form of payment so I got you an extra large coffee, extra sugar,” you handed him the cup.

“Thank you but that really isn’t necessary. I was more than happy to do it. I really want to do it again,” Spencer adamantly said.

“Jo has a tee ball game on Sunday. You are welcome to come and then we could all grab dinner after,” you offered.

“I’ll be there,” Spencer smiled softly.

“Um, where is she?” you asked.

“Oh she’s sleeping in my bed. I’m not exactly sure of her normal bedtime but her eyes were drooping so I figured I should put her to bed. We had dino chicken nuggets, smiley fries, and baby carrots for dinner and then some ice cream. I hope that’s okay,” Spencer whispered as he led you to his room.

“More than okay. Thank you so much. I’m surprised you got her to go to bed. The nights she has stayed at my parent’s, she refused to go to sleep for hours,” you stated as you picked her up.

Jo nuzzled into your neck even though she was still asleep. Spencer watched as you slowly made your way out of the apartment with Jo as to not wake her up.

“See you Sunday,” you whispered, giving him a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer replied.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #cm fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader

431 notes · View notes

hrina · 3 years

Text

The Thrill of the Chase, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 3.6k REQUESTED: no

hi! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something on here lol, i wonder if anyone still remembers me 🤕

this is PART 1 of the hunter!AU that i’ve been writing. while the story is a patreon-exclusive, my patrons gave me permission to post the first chapter here on tumblr for anyone who’s curious about the kind of content i offer on patreon.

if you want to read the rest of this series and unlock access to my other exclusive work, you can sign up for my patreon here. and as always, please reblog the fics you like and leave feedback for the authors, because we pour a lot of time and effort into our stories. happy reading 💌

~*~

Harry’s life is simple.

He performs only the essentials—wakes up and eats an apple for breakfast. Drizzles some lemon juice into his flask of water to keep his teeth healthy and clean. Shrugs on a few heavy furs. Lets Magnus outside to keep him from howling and pawing at the door. Sharpens his arrows. Knocks on the threshold of the cabin once for good luck. Goes hunting.

Upon returning, he crouches next to the firepit, laying out his kills and skinning them. He cooks one for himself—something small, like a squirrel, or a rabbit. Others, he saves for the market—fox, deer, coyote, boar. The pelts, tusks, and antlers are extremely sought-after (particularly by nobles), and often earn enough coin to carry him through the rest of the week.

He doesn’t entertain visitors, because who in their right mind would trek up the side of a mountain just to seek out one lonely hunter? Despite that, he’s come to appreciate his solitude. The silence is familiar—comfortable. Besides, Magnus proves both excellent and useful company, if the sheer volume of their kills offers any indication.

A simple life for a simple man.

Harry doesn’t need anyone else.

“Ready to go, mutt?”

He scratches behind Magnus’ droopy ears. One of the hound’s hindlegs thumps frantically in response. Harry chuckles, slinging his bow over his right shoulder and pulling open the cabin door.

“Come on, then.”

The sky is a dark, cloudy grey, and the smell of oncoming rain is unmistakable. Still, the two of them persevere, ducking past the trees at the edge of the clearing.

It’s a bad day to hunt.

With the threat of a storm looming just above the canopy, the animals have forgone their typical foraging patterns in favour of taking shelter. Harry only manages to kill a rabbit, and even then, it’s a messy shot. He usually gets them right through the eye—a quick, neat splice that results in minimal suffering. This time, however, his foot slips on a damp stone; he fumbles, and the arrow buries itself into the creature’s stomach.

“Fuck.”

The rabbit is still alive when he reaches it, its furry body heaving with shaky, uneven breaths. Harry kneels down, apologising quietly. His hand finds the scabbard strapped to his waist, and he draws a silver dagger from its depths.

He slits the poor hare’s throat just as rain begins to fall.

It’s easy work, after that. He pins the animal’s fluffy forelimbs together, tying them in place with thick, coarse rope. Magnus whimpers as Harry slides the creature’s limp body over his shoulder. He shoots the hound a tired look and shakes his head. Damp brown curls stick to his temples.

“Think that’s enough for today.”

The two of them have nearly made it back home—Harry’s boots squelch as he jumps over the small creek that flows close to the clearing—when Magnus perks up, lifting his snout and sniffing the air.

“What is it, mutt?” Harry asks.

Magnus releases a loud bark and takes off in the direction of the cabin. Harry sprints after him, one hand clutching his game while the other wraps around the leather grip of his bow.

“Magnus!” he yells.

The dog skids to a stop next to the wide trunk of a tree. He barks again and wags his tail feverishly.

Harry releases his bow, approaching with slow, cautious steps.

“What’s got you so—shit.”

You’re slumped in the mud, unconscious. Harry’s gaze rakes over your form, from your tattered blue gown to the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair. There are a few cuts littered across your face, arms, and chest. Rivulets of blood trickle down your wrist, spiderwebbing across your skin.

Magnus sticks his tongue out and pants.

“Good boy,” Harry mutters, bestowing a rugged caress atop the hound’s head.

He gathers you into his arms, paying no mind to the extra weight of your sodden dress. Your neck lolls over his bicep, sternum rising and falling with shallow, barely-there breaths. Harry carries you out of the forest and into the clearing. When he kicks open the cabin door, your eyelids flutter.

“Bear?” you mumble, lifting your head slightly. Your voice is grating, hoarse.

He looks at you. Your face contorts for only a moment before you slouch back into oblivion.

He sets you down onto the thick, woven rug splayed out in front of the hearth. He works quickly, shrugging off his furs and his game and discarding all of it without a second thought. Rain thrums against the roof, but the sound is lost amidst his heavy footsteps.

He hurries into his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his wooden dresser, fumbling for a glass jar and a spool of bandages. When his fingers finally make contact with the desired supplies, he darts back into the other room and kneels beside your motionless body.

He draws his dagger again, gripping the intricate material of your gown and slicing through it. Your corset proves far more challenging, practically embedded into your skin. He sets his knife aside, not willing to risk it. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the top of the girdle, rough knuckles brushing against your soft bosom. With a mighty tug, the structured fabric splits under his palms.

He screws open the lid on the jar and dips his thumb inside. The salve is sticky, viscous, and smells faintly of lavender. He smears it across your scrapes before inspecting your wrist.

The flesh is slashed and bloodied—how did you acquire such an injury? Canines? Claws? Harry uses the frayed edges of your dress to clean the mess. He then unwinds a few bindings from their roll, expertly bandaging your wound.

Once he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches, expelling a stale breath. His work is far from over—he needs to wash you, to scrub off all the dirt and grime staining your skin. He’ll go down to the creek with a cloth, he thinks, and saturate it with cool water. He’ll pick the leaves and branches out of your hair, and cover you in spare furs to keep you warm. He’ll prepare a hot meal so that you may eat when you wake. You’ll be ravenous, certainly.

These thoughts whirl around in his head, along with the realisation that you might expire here, lying on an old rug in the middle of a stranger’s secluded home. Still, he watches your chest rise, swelling with proof of your vitality. The sight puts him at ease.

Harry aims a cursory glance over his shoulder. Magnus is stationed at the door, wet snout resting on the ground. The dog gazes at your limp body with big, solemn eyes, as though he somehow understands the severity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, mutt,” Harry tells him, knees shuffling against the floor. “I won’t let her die.”

~*~

Three days pass.

Harry curtails the duration of his hunts. He kills only the essentials: a hare or a squirrel, something small enough to cook over the fire. He has enough coin saved up from his previous trades to last him another few trips to the market.

Every morning, he prepares a simple, homely meal for you should you wake. When you do not, he eats the food in your place—he’ll be damned if it goes to waste.

On the fourth day, he carries a bowl of soup into his room. He’s expecting to see you tucked into his bed, still unconscious. Instead, you’re alert, sitting upright and studying your surroundings. The furs that previously covered your body now pool around your waist, exposing your naked chest. When you catch sight of Harry lingering in the doorway, you gasp, fumbling for the pelts and clutching them to your sternum.

“You’re up,” he says gruffly, stepping through the threshold.

You scramble back, eyes widening in fear. He pauses.

You’re afraid, he realises, tilting his head to the side. This may be more difficult than he initially thought.

“Soup,” he says slowly, holding out the small clay bowl in his hands. “You need to eat.”

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice is patchy and frail. “Where am I?”

He sets the dish down onto his dresser before shooting you a stern, expectant look.

“Eat.”

Upon exiting the room, he strains his ears and listens carefully. The creak of a loose floorboard—you’ve climbed out of bed. The sound of nimble footsteps pattering across the ground—you’re moving toward the door. And finally, the quiet scrape of clay against wood, indicating that your hunger has prevailed.

He nods to himself.

You’re not dead. That’s a start.

~*~

That evening, Harry is perched next to the firepit outside the cabin. The orange sun crawls down the horizon, kissing the tops of the trees. He basks in the warmth, knowing that it will soon be eradicated by the cool chill of nightfall.

He fiddles with the spit poised above the flames. He caught another rabbit, today. The creature’s fur is laid out across the grass, scrubbed clean of blood. The rest of it cooks over the fire, darkening with each passing minute.

A faint creak reaches Harry’s ears. He perks up, glancing at the door.

You hover just beyond the threshold, leaning nervously against the strong wooden beams. Harry relaxes and turns back around. He uses a long stick to poke at the charred logs; the kindling pops, and a few embers float into the air.

“What are you doing?” Your inquiry is soft, shaky.

His reply is curt: “Dinner.”

You approach warily, bare feet treading through the grass. When you spot the hunk of meat roasting over the flames, a feeble gasp tumbles from your lips.

“That’s barbaric.”

Harry rubs his palms against his thighs. “That’s sustenance.”

He stands, and you retreat. His attention then falls to your torso. You’ve covered yourself with the furs from his room; they hang just past the swell of your bottom, rendering you exceptionally vulnerable. Goosebumps crop up on your bare thighs, visible in the golden light of the sunset.

He hums. “You need clothes.”

You look down at the ground.

“That would be nice,” you whisper at last.

He merely grunts in response.

You follow him back inside, albeit from a distance. He strolls into his bedroom, pausing in front of a large trunk shoved against the far wall. Twin latches click open, and he begins rifling through its contents. After a few moments of silence, he produces a pale linen shirt and a pair of dark leather trousers.

“Here,” he says.

He dumps the fabric into your arms. You huff in surprise, instinctively relinquishing your hold on the pelts covering your body. They fall to the floor in a heap, exposing every inch of your skin.

An embarrassed squeak echoes in the back of your throat. Harry averts his eyes, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“Put those on,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, sidestepping his broad frame. Now that you’re no longer in his line of sight, he lowers his gaze. Part of him wonders if he should say something else, but he decides against it. His legs carry him forward, and he disappears through the door.

~*~

You emerge from the bedroom a short while later, smoothing your hands over your hair in an attempt to look a bit more presentable. Harry resists the urge to tell you that here, in the mountains, appearances are hardly significant. He doesn’t own a mirror—such luxuries can only be afforded by the rich.

His clothes are too big on you, but that was to be expected. You’ve rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt and cuffed the brown leather trousers so that they cinch at your ankles. You’re anxious, incisors gnawing on your bottom lip and eyes darting around the clearing, like you’re waiting for a monster to burst forth from the bushes.

“Here.”

Harry cuts a sliver of meat from the cooked rabbit carcass resting on the spit. You sit down on a wide, round tree stump as he holds the food out in your direction.

At first, he thinks that you may vomit. Fortunately, though, he finds himself mistaken. After a long moment of deliberation, you accept the protein, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing it warily.

“It’s good,” he rasps, slicing off another strip for himself. “Rabbit—all white meat.”

He pops the piece into his mouth and chews. Slowly, you copy him, sighing happily as newfound flavour erupts over your tongue. You waste no time, then, impatiently shoving the rest of the meat into your mouth.

Harry’s lips twitch.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing.

He simply nods. The two of you continue to eat in silence, grinding the remnants of supper between your teeth.

Eventually, your curiosity overwhelms you.

“What’s you name?” you ask, timid.

Harry sits back, wiping his dagger with the hem of his cotton shirt.

“Harry.”

“And how did you find me, Harry?”

A low chuckle resonates in the back of his throat.

“Wasn’t exactly hard. You were lying in a puddle of mud not far from here.”

Your lips part. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember any of it,” you say softly, playing with your fingers. You hesitate before elaborating: “But I—I remember seeing your face. I thought you were a bear.”

He recalls that day, how you lifted your head weakly and uttered the word before sinking back into unconsciousness. It led him to believe that you’d been attacked. Your side of the story, however, proves much more entertaining.

“Well,” he says, exhaling brusquely, “I’m not.”

You examine him with big, tender eyes. He shifts awkwardly under the intensity of your gaze.

“No,” you finally agree. “You’re not.”

He swallows and flips the conversation around.

“Who are you?”

You stiffen, caught off-guard.

“That is…hardly relevant.”

“Perhaps,” Harry says. “But it is fair.”

When you don’t reply, he continues.

“You’re a lady, aren’t you?” he guesses. “A duchess. Your gown was too pretty to have belonged to a commoner.”

“My gown?” You perk up at the mention of the dress. “Where is it?”

“Gone. I tore through it.”

You gasp. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” he says simply. “Your corset was impeding your ability to breathe.”

“My corset…” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You grimace after registering the implications of his words, thoroughly scandalized. “So, you—you—?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“God,” you choke out, covering your mouth. “How dare you? You should have just—!”

“Let you die?”

His query successfully squashes your disapproval; your lips flatten into a thin line, and you say nothing else. Harry watches the creases in your forehead dwindle as you realise that he’s right. You fiddle with the collar of your shirt, turning to the side and regaining your composure.

“Thank you,” you finally murmur, trying to hide your face from his piercing stare, “for not letting me die.”

He grunts. “You’re welcome.”

Brief silence ensues. A light breeze blows through the clearing, tousling the curls atop Harry’s head. The gust is enough to extinguish the last few flames frolicking over the kindle, until glowing embers are all that remain.

“I am a lady,” you suddenly add, though you refuse to meet his eyes. “But not a duchess.”

Harry leans forward, prodding at the residual ash in the firepit.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

You tinker with the bandages wrapped around your injured wrist.

“I was to be wed,” you confess, peeking up at him. “But I—I could not bear to go through with it. One should not marry for duty, but rather—”

“For love?”

You pause at his intrusion, lips parted in surprise.

“Yes,” you breathe. “For love.”

Your gazes lock. He clears his throat, breaking the contact quickly.

“You ran away, then.”

It’s not a question. You nod, and he hums.

“What is it?” you ask, brows knitting together.

“Nothing. It’s just…I may find good fortune in this situation.”

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.”

Though he’s not looking at you, he can tell that you’ve recoiled.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

He examines your face in the periphery of his vision. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Just then, Magnus races out of the cabin, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. He trots over to you, sniffing your shoulder and releasing a high-pitched whine. You use one hand to swipe hastily at your cheeks; the other migrates to his head, tickling his floppy ears.

Harry watches the interaction unfold, completely stunned.

“He—he likes you.”

You glance over at him, still wary of his previous threat.

“I suppose he does,” you say quietly.

Magnus paws at your thighs. You direct your attention back to the keen bloodhound, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his wet nose.

Harry blinks a few times, trying to pinpoint the reason for his mutt’s newfound behaviour. At first, he wonders if his eyes are simply playing tricks on his brain. Yet with each flutter of his lids, the sight before him only seems to solidify.

“He doesn’t usually take well to strangers,” he mumbles.

When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw tightly. Countless thoughts zoom through his head, spinning like wheels, tangling like thread.

Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.

Harry is not a sensible man.

~*~

The three of you retreat indoors when the last shards of sunlight fade from the sky. Magnus circles the large woven rug poised in front of the hearth. Eventually, he collapses onto the mat, his snout drooping over his front paws. You stretch your arms into the air and yawn gently.

Harry is the last one to enter the cabin; he shuts the door behind him.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say lightly.

You spin around and nearly crash into the hard barrier of his chest. Reflexively, his hands fly up to grasp your biceps, steadying you. He peers down at your face in the darkness, his thoughtful gaze tracing the contours of your cheeks. Your eyes are wide, lips split apart as you suck in air.

“Sorry,” you say, frozen in place.

He only grunts, releasing your arms and stepping away.

Your attention lingers on him as he approaches a wide pile of furs stacked into the corner of the room. He’s been sleeping on the makeshift cot for the past three nights, and though his back is always sore the next morning, he has yet to find a better alternative.

“What are you…?” You hesitate, rethinking your question. “What is that?”

“My bed.”

“Do you…always sleep there?”

“No,” he rasps, lowering himself onto the thick pelts. “I prefer to sleep in my room.”

He shoots you a pointed look, and you frown when the realisation sinks in.

“We—we can switch,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.”

“I insist.” You try again.

“As do I.”

You clamp your mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. Magnus has already dozed off—his soft snores filter through the heavy silence hanging over your heads.

“He’s lovely,” you suddenly say, referring to the quiescent hound. “Well-trained, too.”

“I won’t take credit for that,” Harry grumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “He was a palace dog.”

You blink. “W-what?”

“A palace dog,” he repeats. “I found him alone in the woods after a hunt. His leg was broken—the guards left him there to die.”

“That’s awful.”

He hums in agreement.

“You took him in, then,” you say. When he nods, you add, “It seems that you have a knack for nursing others back to health.”

He doesn’t reply.

“The hunts—” you start, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. “Do they…occur frequently?”

“Why do you ask?” Harry says. His shoulders wobble with a hollow chuckle. “Are you afraid of being caught?”

You inhale sharply, and he realises that yes, you are.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. Subconsciously, his voice drops an octave, taking on a soothing quality. “They don’t come around often. And even if they did, I doubt that a single runaway lady would be of much concern.”

You blow out a relieved sigh, though the uneasy expression on your face never wanes.

“You’re probably right.”

A few hushed seconds draw out, during which neither of you speak. Your bare feet shuffle clumsily against the cold floor. You appear to be waiting for some sort of cue—a sound, a gesture, anything.

“Er—” Harry breaks the peace, cocking one eyebrow. “I sleep naked.”

“Oh.”

The exclamation is unbelievably breathless. Your throat bobs amidst a difficult swallow, and you totter back.

“Of course,” you stammer. “I’ll just—”

With a trembling hand, you motion toward the entrance of his bedroom.

He nods wordlessly.

“Right,” you mumble, retreating. “Goodnight, then…Bear.”

At that, he pauses. Your cheeks twitch with a feeble smile, but you don’t comment on the sweetness of the simple endearment.

Harry remains completely still as you scurry into his room. He sits there for a prolonged moment after the door shuts, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Your features have been stamped onto the backs of his eyelids, practically seared into the skin.

At last, warm air spills past his lips, and he allows himself to utter the low, relentless reply pulling at his tongue.

“Goodnight.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #uhhhh yeah so here u go. if this flops it never happened i guess #hunterry #harry writing

284 notes · View notes