#i mean readers have been entitled in the past but this last year is just... fucking insane. like i havent even been answering some asks
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what are you getting us for ashton’s birthday
some respect for fanfic authors as people will be first on the list <3
#ashton would want me to sass u <3#so i do this in honor of his birth <3#no but fr this reeks of entitlement bestie and idk if ur trying to be funny or not but if u r the joke is not landing#and if this is the same person who sent asks to another author asking for stuff for ashton's birthday pls know it's just not ok#it is *rude* baby.#like this is just genuinely very not okay. and i dont know how many times fanfic authors are going to have to tell readers that.#u genuinely cannot just go demanding authors for or expecting things from them. i dont know *where* this sense of entitlement is coming fro#like also ? the tone of this is so ?#i have no obligation to give you anything baby.#i am sort of just shocked by this#bc i was like 'it's his birthday hehe' and i was really quite happy about it#and then i got this and my mood tanked instantly. i am not ?? here to *give* you things like i owe them to u. r we clear??#and ik this just happened to another ash author too and like guys cmon?? i dont know how u cant see how this isnt acceptable#i mean readers have been entitled in the past but this last year is just... fucking insane. like i havent even been answering some asks#bc the shit i get is just like. sometimes so ridiculous it doesnt warrant a response. and ik im not the only one. im truly at a loss#fucking 40 kudos to 1 comment ratio on ao3. and yall think im gonna give u smthn bc u think u deserve it? u dont.#i dont know how u thought this was ok to send to an author who shares stuff entirely for free. like absolutely unfathomable to me.#and like i love my anons guys i really do. but a lot of people are coming in *expecting* things or demanding things from me. that's not ok#and u need to cut that shit out. now.#upsetting me on my fave holiday too :( how could u#this better have fucking been a joke that's all im fucking saying.#bc it's 1 am and im pissed.#pigeon#anon#sorry if im meeting this with an absurd amount of vitriol or whatever it is people say abt me but cmon guys#i dont know how u typed this out and thought 'yeah this is ok to send to someone <3 doesn't make me sound ungrateful and entitled at all'#fr guys u need to be respectful of authors please. treating us like people and not content machines <3 would be a really cute first step <3#not here for ur entertainment. here for mine. and u get to read some of the stuff i write. bc i like sharing#but the second people start being a dick to me. im gonna stop sharing my shit#so be nice to me and other authors if u want anything at all
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Way too close-Theodore Nott x reader
Forced proximity between Theodore Nott and fem!reader (2k words)
Some tension needs to be resolved… (not 18+ content though, this is SFW)
If someone would have told you earlier today, that if you went to tonight’s Slytherin party you’d be stuck in an old closet with the Theodore Nott later on, you’d have never went.
But here you were, stuck beside Theo in an old closet used for storing rags and brooms, which smelled extremely unpleasant. You could practically feel a broom stabbing you in the back, but you didn’t want to move because you’d have to get closer to Theo in the process. He was facing you at the moment, but you weren’t looking him the eyes, instead you stared at the dusty closet floor.
It’s not that you absolutely hated Theo, although he hasn’t been exactly the nicest to you in the past. He always believed that he was entitled to do whatever he wanted without thinking about the consequences, especially the ones that would be inflicted on other people.
You remembered that a year ago, there was this huge rumor that your boyfriend at that time had made out with another girl. It wasn’t true though, and Theo had been the one that spread that lie. You guys broke up anyway, you just weren’t meant for each other, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that Theo had put a huge dent in your relationship and had made you feel so extremely humiliated.
It was a thing of the past, you moved on, but something about him still made you feel uneasy. And besides, he just had this overall intimidating, dark aura around him, as if he’d start a fight with you any second. Perhaps it’s just the way some people are.
You had originally thought that he’d refuse to spend 7 minutes in heaven with you, when the spinning bottle had landed on you, but to your surprise he was quite alright with it. Maybe not happy, definitely not unhappy though.
“What are you thinking about”, he asks you, disrupting the silence that had lasted for a solid minute already, while curiously looking down on you.
“Nothing, really”, you reply.
“Well you look like you got a stick up your ass, what’s with your weird posture?”
Rude. Were you really standing that crookedly, you ask yourself.
“If you must know, there’s this broom digging into my backside and I can’t stand properly without…”, you go silent, hesitating to name him the reason. Why would you, it would only be another six minutes.
“Without what?”, he further questions you in a demanding tone.
“…without practically leaning onto you” Fuck, you said it, and you knew you were blushing so hard right now. Why had you even said that? It was not like it made the awkwardness better. Luckily, darkness surrounded you, masking your intense blushing. What would he say now? You couldn’t possibly imagine a response.
“Then I guess I don’t want you to be uncomfortable now, do I?”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he being sarcastic? He certainly looked serious.
“What are you waiting for, move”
You definitely did not know where this was going, but after a bit of hesitation, you decided to do it, since he was so insistent. Although you were still confused on why he was so comfortable with having you lean on him. You think probably because he’s used to having girls all around him.
Moments later, finally lean onto him, pressing your body closely against his. Faces only inches away from touching. The warmth of his body immediately spreads to you, and you feel his breath on your skin. There was this awfully weird tingle going through your entire body.
His intense stare stuns you so much, that you feel your knees going soft for a second. It’s like you couldn’t focus on anything else besides his electric touch, it made you melt. Meanwhile, you also realize you’d never been this close to any guy before, ever. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all…
“Better?”
“Yeah, thanks”, you dryly reply.
This could be nice, you start to think to yourself. Perhaps you could start some small talk with him, to make the position you were in less full of tension.
“So-”
“So, do you wanna make out now?”
WHAT. What the hell, that came out of absolutely nowhere, and your mind starts to spin. Making out with Theodore Nott after just 3 minutes of talking ? Why in the hell would he even suggest that? He must be out of his mind.
He barely knew you, and now he wanted to make out? So many questions were circling your head, but not a single, coherent response left your mouth.
“uhm- wha, what?”, was all that escaped your mouth in a stuttering manner. It was all you could come up with.
“Clearly, you are not very experienced with party games, so let me explain“, he just so nonchalantly says. “Seven minutes of heaven is for making out. And it doesn’t hurt when the person you’re stuck with is really hot. So, since you’re more comfortable now, can we make out?”
He really had no sense of shame you thought to yourself.
All that left his mouth so matter of factly, that you barely had time to process what he said. Did he just call you hot? Not that you had much more time to overthink it because his lips smashed against yours already.
He used one hand to hold your waist, to keep you close to him, and the other to grab your head. Every single one of his touches sent electric waves through your body, and the kiss itself was so unexpected, yet so gentle. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and his lips were so soft and they intertwined with yours in such a magical way. It ignited a growing desire in you, that you also clung onto him tighter, wrapping your arms around his neck. Every aspect of this made you want to get even closer to him, but no.
He can’t just do this all of a sudden. You barely know him, besides from the thing he did to you in the past. Plus, this was such an intimate moment, and there was no way you were going to experience it in a dusty closet, so you pull back, as much as you want to continue locking lips with him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”, you flip the mood around 180 degrees. That may have sounded ruder than you’d expected, which you didn’t mean to. But you still had to confront him.
“Listen, I know you make out with like 10 girls a week, and this game may be an excuse for you to make out with another one, but I barely know you, and the things that I do know of you aren’t exactly nice”.
There, you’d confronted him, the most intimidating person you know. Seems like you were still pretty hurt by what he did, even if you told yourself it didn’t affect you all that much anymore.
“Playing hard to get huh?”, he raises an eyebrow at you while saying that. “You know, seconds ago, if I recall correctly, you seemed to enjoy the kiss a lot too. And now you wanna act like I forced myself on you, so what’s up with that?”
He was right, you did enjoy it too. It wasn’t fair to blame him completely. What if you had just shut up and enjoyed the kiss? There was no turning back though at this point.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t just pretend the kiss was all you. But I meant the part about you not being such a nice person”, you correct yourself.
“Now, what’s not nice about me?” He asked that in an accusatory tone, but he actually looked genuinely interested.
“Do you not remember what you did to me a few months back?”, you had hoped he would have some sort of memory about that.
“I barely remember what I do during any day, so no. I swear I’ll make it up to you though”, he replied honestly.
“You spread a rumor about my ex cheating on me, which wasn’t true by the way, never apologized, made me feel humiliated for days, and now you want to make out?” When you hear yourself speak those words, it really just made the situation seem even worse.
After not blinking and thinking for a few seconds Theo comes up with something and says “I didn’t realize it was that hurtful, but you gotta know do a lot of stupid stuff”
“I still don’t hear an apology”, you clap back, “and you doing stupid stuff often isn’t an excuse to be a bad person, maybe you should just quit doing stupid stuff.” What came out of Theos mouth was the lamest excuse you have ever heard, and he deserved to be knocked down a peg.
“So you’re seriously not gonna make out with me?”, he asks, sounding almost annoyed.
You didn’t think he could be any more of an asshole than he already was, but here you go. Theo wasn’t even worthy of a reply, so you just rolled your eyes.
At this point 7 minutes must’ve already passed you think because there was no way that 7 minutes were this long. You raise your arm to knock on the closet door, to signal to someone to unlock it, but before you could, Theo stops you in your tracks.
“Wait, wait, wait”, he said while holding onto your wrist, “I’m sorry, I know I come off as a jerk right now and most of the time too, but I do like you and want to make it up to you for having hurt you in the past.”
Even though he sounded halfway genuine, you didn’t fully believe he was sincerely sorry. He had also just completely changed within seconds. You just wanted to get out now, forget everything that happened, but there was no way of avoiding his gaze, that was scanning you right now for an answer.
“And how will you do that?”, you challenge him, to see if he really means it. It would be nice if he did make it up to you after all this time. Better late than never you think. You just didn’t want him to play a stupid trick on you instead.
Theo takes some time to think about his answer again. In the end he replied with “I’ll take you on a nice date.” He sounded way too cheeky saying that.
“That’s kind of selfish don’t you think, I don't believe a simple date will make it up to me”, you retorted at his proposal. Not that you wouldn’t enjoy it, the amazing kiss was still on your mind. When you thought of it, it made your stomach all fuzzy again. You just wanted him to be genuinely apologetic.
When you looked at him again, he was smiling for some odd reason. He countered with “Well, how do you know that it won’t make it up to you, if you don’t even give it a try?”, he did have you there. Perhaps it was his cheeky, yet charming smile, or the kiss, but you saw his point. There was no way of knowing before actually giving him a shot at redeeming himself. Theo continued smiling and he knew that he had somehow convinced you.
To give him a date wouldn’t be the end of the world, so what’s the point of making it more complicated than it is.
He was still patiently waiting for an answer, so at last, you gave him the satisfaction and agreed to a date. It was a huge relief on both of your sides, and you could hopefully finally put the past to rest after the date.
After a bit of more talking and banter, someone finally unlocked the closet doors and apologized for having forgotten all about you. Theo chuckles and flashes a grin at you before saying “Don’t be sorry, I thank you.”
#harry potter#slytherin#oneshot#hp fandom#theodore nott#slytherin boys#forced proximity#7 minutes in heaven#hp fanfic#fanfic#theo nott#harry potter oneshot#slytherin reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fic#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you
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Batting Practice Part 18 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Tee ball season is almost over, and the Tiny Eagles are still undefeated. You are starting to feel bolder in your personal life, like you are ready to claim everything you are entitled to. And Bradley is subtly letting you know he's along for more than just the ride.
Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst and swearing
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
"Only two more weeks of tee ball left," Molly murmured as she sipped her coffee next to you on the bleachers.
You paused to think about that. It was only two months ago that you met Bradley, and a lot had changed since you caught yourself stuttering in his presence that first day. After he brought you flowers and lunch to work on Wednesday, he'd met you at your house that night. One thing led to another, and now you knew Bradley loved being called Lieutenant Bradshaw in bed.
"Two more weeks," you agreed. You'd be sad when tee ball ended, but Bradley had been telling you for the past week since the Phillies game that he'd work on some skills with Everett during the summer.
"Go Ev!" Molly shouted when he hit the ball really hard and scored a run against the Tiny Robins. It was Crazy Socks day, and Everett had talked you into ordering him a pair from the Phillies website. You had a second pair stashed away for Bradley's birthday, which you found out from Bob was a week after Everett's.
You clapped along with your sister as you watched Everett run the bases in his red and white striped socks, but your mind was wandering elsewhere.
"You know what you said about Danny last time we talked about him?" you asked, and Molly scoffed.
"You mean how I called him an incompetent man-child? Or how I told you he doesn't deserve to lick the bottoms of your shoes?"
"Neither," you replied, smiling as both Bradley and Bob waved in your direction at the same time. You waved your fingers at Bradley and smiled. "I'm actually talking about child support. And the fact that he never pays it."
"Ohhhh, you wanna have that conversation now?" Molly asked, giving you a bland look. "Ev is almost seven years old."
"Yeah," you replied softly.
You could see the fire in Molly's eyes, but she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You've paid for everything. Take him to court. Seriously. Please, take him to court. I would love nothing more than to help you pay for it. Who's your lawyer? I'll send them a check today."
"I don't need your money," you told her firmly for the hundredth time. But now you were finally feeling like you wanted to do something about this. Why had you been okay with letting Danny get away with so much shit before? Everett deserved the whole world, and you were going to try to give it to him. "I'm going to give him one more chance to either be more involved with Ev or start paying for support."
Molly set her empty cup down and said, "Look at me." You met her eyes, and she looked much more serious than she usually did, which gave you a chill. "What are you going to do when Danny won't do either of those things?"
You pressed your lips together to keep the tingling sensation of tears out of your eyes and nose. "I'm going to stop being a doormat."
Molly kissed your cheek and pulled you against her side just as the game was ending.
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"Still undefeated!" Everett cheered as Bradley carried him on his shoulders up to the parking lot after the game against the Tiny Robins ended in a victory for the Tiny Eagles.
"Hey, Coach Bob," Bradley called, and Bob turned around, still holding Molly's hand. "You better start writing your speech for when you win Coach of the Year. The team is undefeated with two games left!"
"You'll have to give a speech, too," Bob said as he adjusted his glasses. "The award goes to both coaches, not just one."
"Undefeated! Undefeated!" Everett chanted. You were walking next to Bradley shaking your head and smiling.
Bradley looked at you as he said, "Ev is the best on the team, Kitten. He's really good." Everett continued to chant as Bradley added, "I'm going to plan out the whole summer with visits to the batting cages, pitching in the park, and learning more about all of the different positions. He'll be ready for baseball next spring. No more tee ball." Bradley couldn't remember being this excited about baseball since he was a kid trying out for his first team.
"He's really that good at it?" you asked. "Thank goodness I signed him up for tee ball."
"Yeah," Bradley agreed, "for more than one reason."
You opened the back door to your car, and Bradley deposited Everett into his booster seat at the same time that Molly climbed in through the other door and tried to buckle herself into the seat. Bradley chuckled while Everett practically screeched with laughter, and then you wrapped your arms around his waist.
"I'm going to buy tickets for the Pittsburgh Pirates game on Everett's birthday," you told him. "Molly and Bob are coming, too."
Bob perked up when he heard his name. "No, Molly and I are going to buy all the tickets. For his birthday present."
"I thought I'd get them for everyone," Bradley said with a frown. "My treat, again."
"I already bought them!" Molly shouted from inside the car as Everett tickled her until she was wheezing.
"She's so annoying," you said, resting your head against Bradley's chest. "She wants me to save my money for my lawyer."
Bradley jerked his head back and coaxed you to look up at him. "A lawyer for what?"
"Don't worry about it," you whispered before you returned to snuggling against him.
But he wanted to know what was wrong. "Are you okay? Is Ev? Is this about Danny? What can I do?"
"We're okay, Bradley."
"Kitten. You can talk to me about it."
"I know," you replied, squeezing him tighter. "We're okay for now."
"Well, that's settled then," Molly said as she climbed out of the car with her clothes all dishevelled. "Everett defeated me in the tickle fight, so I owe him a movie. I'll pick him up tomorrow after lunch."
You looked up at Bradley with a smirk on your face. "Any chance you're free for a little bit tomorrow after lunch?"
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Later that night, you called Danny after sending him texts throughout the day telling him you needed to talk to him.
You were happy you had waited until Everett was in bed to make the call, because as soon as Danny answered with a bark of, "Yes?" you felt anxious.
"Danny," you replied, gripping the edge of the counter so you wouldn't lose your resolve. "Hi."
"What do you need? I'm trying to work."
You squeezed the counter harder and took a deep breath. "Let me know when you have time to spend a day with Everett. I think you need to make that more of a priority."
You were met with silence.
"Danny?"
"I'm here. You know I don't have time for this."
You pressed your lips together and held back your tears. "He is your son, Danny. You need to make time for him."
More silence spread out before you. Honestly, you wanted to start screaming into the phone, but you knew you shouldn't. Nobody could upset you with just a small handful of words the way your ex husband could.
When you got no response, you took a deep breath and said, "If you're not going to give him some of your time, then you need to start making up for it by paying us child support."
"Child support?" he asked with a laugh. "You know I don't have a steady income like you do."
You took a deep breath. "I understand that, but providing for Everett shouldn't solely land on my shoulders here, Danny."
"Listen," he replied smoothly. "I have a huge gallery event coming up next month. I'll probably have some more spending money then."
He was trying to manipulate you the way he always had. You'd spent years listening to him try to validate his excuses, and somehow he always got you to agree with him. You didn't need to fall into these traps any longer. Not when you had Molly in your corner. Not when you knew Bradley cared about Everett's happiness.
"Taking care of your son doesn't fall under the same category as extraspending money." You said it before you gave yourself a chance to process your words, and somehow you felt a little stronger. "So then I guess he can come spend a day with you instead?"
"Fine," Danny snapped immediately. "But I'll probably be working, so he's going to have to play on his iPad or something."
His iPad that you paid for. "Sure," you agreed, knowing this was probably too good to be true. "He's going to love to see you no matter what. So how does next Sunday sound?"
And then you ended the call feeling better than you ever had after a conversation with Danny. You poured yourself a glass of wine and carried it up to your bathroom. You filled your tub while you removed your makeup, and then you sank down into a delicious bubble bath.
You texted Molly about your conversation, and she wrote back saying SLAY YOU QUEEEEEN BITCH. DO NOT FUCK WITH MY SISTER.
You were still laughing when Bradley texted to ask what you were up to. He had gone out to that aviator hangout bar with his friends, so of course it made you feel even giddier that he was texting you while he was there.
When you told him you were in the bath he wrote back while you sipped your wine.
Bradley Bradshaw: Pics or it didn't happen
You snorted into your wine glass and took some strategically posed selfies. Finally you took a good one where the swell of your breasts was pronounced above the bubbles, and your knee was peeking above the water next to your glass. You sent it to him, and you did not have to wait long for a response.
Bradley Bradshaw: Kitten, please baby, you're teasing me. I can only take so much.
You laughed and sent him a second photo where he could see your nipples.
Bradley Bradshaw: You are so fucking hot. And now my dick is hard. In the middle of a game of pool.
You sent teasing texts back and forth while you finished your wine, and he reminded you that he'd be there tomorrow afternoon. And then he sent you a list of all the dirty little things he wanted to do to you. You dreamed about his mouth and his mustache all night long.
And the next day, as soon as Molly picked Everett up to take him to see the movie, you ran up the stairs, two at a time and dashed into your room. You dug around in the bottom drawer of your dresser and pulled out everything you needed. Bradley would be here in just a few minutes, and you'd been wet and worked up for him since last night.
You shimmied into the tight black bodysuit and fastened the choker around your neck before securing the ear headband in place as well. Then you found some sheer black socks that went up over your knees and added them to your Kitten outfit. When you looked in the mirror, you squealed with delight. You turned and checked yourself from different angles. Not bad. Not bad at all.
You were thinking about how Bradley barely even got a chance to touch you the last time you wore this kitten costume that day at tee ball. You were thinking about how you bought this outfit just for him in the first place. When you heard the Bronco pull into your driveway, you were practically squeezing your legs together to keep from moaning.
When you made it to the bottom step, you heard Bradley's key in the door, and somehow that made you even hotter. You were afraid you were going to jump on him, so you kept your hand wrapped around the bannister as he opened your front door.
"Hi, Coach," you said, your voice laced with need as you waved your fingers at him.
"Oh, god." His groan was so deep and loud, you clenched around nothing as he blindly slammed and locked the door. He let his keys, wallet and hat fall right to the floor as you whimpered.
"Coach." Your voice quivered as he approached you slowly. "Bradley."
You almost matched up to his height as you were still standing on the bottom step. He was close to you now, licking his lips and breathing faster. He let his knuckles trail slowly up and down over your bodysuit between your breasts, and soon you were panting for him.
His grin was smug as he asked you, "Did you wear this for me?"
You nodded your head as he stroked your hard nipples through the thin fabric. "Just for you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."
And then his head tipped back as he groaned, and you felt so powerful. You guided his hand down your belly and between your legs, and he met your eyes again. "You're already wet."
"I've been wet since we were texting last night," you admitted. And then you were draped over his shoulder with his big hand on your butt while he hauled you back upstairs.
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Bradley had been thinking about you in your Kitten costume for weeks, but he hadn't been expecting you to be wearing it today. It was even filthier looking this time, as you paired it with black socks that hugged your thighs instead of your jeans. You skipped the whiskers, but you were wearing your choker. Your collar.
As he took you up to your bed, you were whimpering his name as he stroked his fingers along your ass and your thighs. You were soaking wet. He could feel it when he dug his hand between your legs to tease you as he reached your bedroom.
When he set you down, you crawled across the bed, showing off your ass for him before you settled with your back against the pillows. Bradley was tearing his shoes off followed by his clothing as he watched you run your hands over your bodysuit, squeezing your tits.
"Do you have any idea what you look like right now?" he asked, crawling across the bed to get to you.
"A Kitten?" you asked softly, fingers skimming over your taut nipples.
"My Kitten," he growled. "You look like you're mine. My own personal Kitten with a wet pussy and filthy red lips." He kissed you hard, pushing your head back against the pillow while he ran his fingers along the strip of fabric that was barely covering your slit.
When you moaned into his mouth, he released your lips in favor of running his nose and tongue along that sinful red choker on your neck.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir," you whined, and his cock ached with need. "Please."
He was sucking on all of your exposed skin, tasting every inch. You were grinding up against his hand as he palmed your core through your bodysuit. "I'll take care of you," he promised, kissing your choker and your necklace chain at the same time. "You keep your claws tucked away like a good girl, and I'll take such good care of you."
Then he released the snaps between your legs that were keeping you concealed, and the bodysuit was open. You rubbed yourself against his knuckles, and his fingers slid right through your slick slit. You shook your head against the pillow, and your headband with the ears went a little crooked.
"I am so turned on," you gasped. "I don't think I have ever been this turned on before."
You were whining for him and rubbing your stocking covered leg along his cock. But your eyes were still alert, and he wanted them glazed and fucked out.
"I'm gonna eat your pussy," he told you, nibbling your nipples through the fabric as you gasped in agreement. "But I'm not going to stop until I'm ready to. Does that sound okay?"
"Yes sir, Coach Bradley, sir!"
"Kitten, look at me," he said, still stroking your clit softly with his knuckle. "That means I decide when you're done."
"Yes!"
And then he put his mouth on your pussy, and it was exquisite. Just like last time. But maybe even better, because he was going to make you lose your mind for him. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and spread you open wide, kissing your hole as he buried his nose in your wetness.
He started off slow, teasing and licking, and then your fingers were in his hair. Your little gasps and words of encouragement made him smile, but as soon as he took your clit between his lips, you got loud. Really loud. Bradley was delighted that you could be as loud as you wanted to, because he was addicted to the feel of your smooth pearl, your perfect clit under his tongue.
"Bradley!"
You were thrusting up against his face, and he dipped his tongue inside you as your wetness coated his chin. He loved this. He loved eating pussy. He knew he was good at it. But you were too perfect. Everything he liked. Everything he wanted. He needed you. He released your left leg and shoved two rough fingers inside you as he eased himself up your body to kiss those pretty red lips.
"You taste so fucking good. Like a damn kitten in heat," he told you as you ran your tongue along his chin. You kitten licked his face and whimpered while he finger fucked you harder. Your hands wound tight up in his hair were a little painful, but it just made him go harder.
Your eyes were already starting to drift closed and he kissed you, smiling against your mouth. "Remember. You're done when I say you're done."
His words made you keen, and he could feel you starting to squeeze his fingers as he put his mouth back on your clit and sucked gently. That first orgasm came screaming out of you as your hips bucked and shook against the mattress. But Bradley was already working on the next one as you gasped his name over and over again.
With his tongue moving in languid strokes as you started to calm down, Bradley managed to coax you close to the edge again. This time you released his hair in favor of wrapping your hands in your pillowcase.
"What the fuck," you gasped, gaping at him and meeting his eyes as you rode his tongue to another orgasm. Your forehead was scrunched up in disbelief as you gasped, sounding scandalized that he did it twice.
But he wasn't done yet. He ground his cock down into your bedding, bucking for some relief against the delicious show that all of his senses were being treated to. Because now you looked truly exhausted, and your fingers were unable to get purchase in his hair. He kissed and nibbled on your inner thigh as he ran his calloused fingertips over your sensitive, overworked clit until you were whining softly.
"It's okay, Kitten. I love you," Bradley promised, and you nodded wordlessly. And sure enough, after several more minutes, you hiccuped a few times as you came again for him. Your pussy softly pulsing around his middle finger as you gasped had him palming his cock.
He was about to cum. Quickly, he positioned himself so he was on his knees with your left thigh between his legs. He never removed his middle finger from inside you while he stroked himself a half a dozen times. And then he was spurting his cum all over your pussy and your belly and your bodysuit.
You didn't even seem to know what was going on as you shook your head against the pillow and wiped at your tears.
"You okay?" he asked softly, and he smiled. Because your eyes were glazed, your face looked fucked out, and your body was limp, connected to his by his one finger inside you. "God, you're fucking glorious."
A soft laugh escaped your lips while Bradley stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you nuzzled against him like a kitten.
---------------------------
You had your arms draped lazily around Bradley's neck as he showered with you. For a split second, he had been nervous that he might have ruined your bodysuit when he came, but you assured him you could always buy another one. Honestly, you thought the splashes of his white cum on your skin and the dark fabric looked sinfully good.
"You gonna wear that outfit again for me?" he asked, running his fingers along the little paw print charm he got you where it rested next to your collarbone.
"Do you really need me to?" you challenged. "You just took a bunch of photos of me half wearing it with your cum all over me. Shouldn't that be enough?"
He kissed you, gently pulling your bottom lip between his before he said, "No way. Those are for when I'm deployed. I'm gonna want the real thing again and again."
You felt a jolt of reality. "Do you know when you're getting deployed again? Do I need to start preparing myself to miss you?"
"No," he murmured, kissing along your neck as the spray from the shower calmed you. "When I find out, you'll be the first to know, Kitten. And I must admit," he added, pausing on a deep inhale that left you with bated breath, "I do love the idea of being missed. By you. And Ev."
You didn't know what to say as you snuggled up against him for a few minutes before you eventually turned off the water. You'd been in a relationship with him for a week. One week. And you already daydreamed about when he'd move in with you. You were already thinking about where all of his stuff would fit in your house. But it was too soon. And you didn't know if he'd want to permanently be here at all.
But you did say, "Everett and I already miss you when we're not with you," and he smiled.
"Speaking of Ev," he said, drying off his legs. "It's getting late. Do you want me to be here when they get back?"
You only had to consider that for a beat. "Yeah."
Bradley met your eyes as he pulled his underwear on. "Can I help him with his homework? Or do something else to make things easier for you?"
In that moment, you wanted to tell him everything that had happened on the phone with Danny. You wanted to tell him that you and Molly had talked about a lawyer. But all you said was, "I love you."
-------------------------
Kitten dressing as the kitten again. Kitten making demands of Danny. Kitten getting what she deserves from Coach! Love to see it. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!
PART 19
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do something for George? I enjoy reading fanfics about him but surprisingly there aren’t many
Act Like You Mean It
Chapter 1
Summary: George and Y/N are oblivious idiots in love who agree to fake date in the attempt to drive away Y/N's unwanted suitor.
~•~
George Weasley x Fem!reader
~•~
Y/N worried that if she rolled her eyes one more time, they might get stuck like that, like her mom had always threatened.
But, seriously? How many times did she have to turn down a guy before he finally gave up?
Byron Montcroix was a rich, pompous, self-absorbed jackass who thought he was the universe's gift to women. And for the past two months, he'd been after her like a bloodhound on the hunt.
"There's plenty of girls who'd love to be in your position, Y/N, " Gabby said.
"Great! They can have him. I'll even wrap him up in a pretty red bow and deliver him to their doorstep."
Y/N's roommate shook her head. "I just don't get you. You've got one of Hogwarts' most eligible bachelor's practically banging down your door, and you won't even give him the time of day.
"Because," Y/N replied with an exasperated sigh. "He's an entitled creep who thinks that I, or any other girl for that matter, should be grateful that he even deigns to look at us."
~•~
George gazed at Y/N, resting her chin on her palm as she half-dozed. Unlike nearly every other student at school, he loved History of Magic. It was the one place he could watch Y/N unabashed because everyone, including her, was either unconscious or close to it.
Last year, after two long years of admiring her from afar, the younger twin, with Fred's encouragement and a few shots of firewhiskey, finally got the nerve to strike up a conversation with her during one of Gryffindor's infamous parties. A friendship blossomed between the two, but George could never muster up the courage to ask her out.
"Y/N's just so perfect. She's a Goddess," he'd told Fred. "And I'm just well--I'm just me."
~•~
Y/N couldn't help but smile when she saw George walking toward her. She'd had a crush on him since their third year but had been too shy to approach the cool, confident prankster. Then, last spring, during a Gryffindor party, he introduced himself, and they ended up sitting in a quiet corner, ignoring everyone else and talking long after the party was over.
He seemed to really like her and Y/N thought maybe he would ask her out at some point, but he never did. A couple of times, she almost bit the bullet and confessed her feelings, but froze up before she could even utter the first syllable. Y/N knew it could spell disaster for their friendship if he didn't feel the same way. So, in the end, she decided she'd much rather have him as a friend than not at all.
~•~
"There you are," George said, sitting beside her on the grass. "What are you doing all the way out here? I've been looking all over for you."
Y/N had walked almost as far as the shrieking shack in an effort to shake off her ardent admirer. "Hiding from Montcroix. He's been all over me like shit on a stick today. Would you believe he actually tried to kiss me? Granted, it was my cheek and not my lips, thank goodness. But still. Just thought of his mouth anywhere my skin makes me wanna puke."
George's blood boiled. He looked away for a few moments to hide the red splotches he knew were blooming on his face and neck. He wanted more than anything to punch that smug, cocksure smile off Montcroix's pristine, fucking face and then sweep Y/N off her feet in a passionate kiss. Just like in all the movies and romance novels.
"I'm just so sick of him," Y/N sighed. "I've tried everything I can think of, but he just won't leave me alone." She paused and looked up at George, "Got any ideas? I'm willing to try just about anything at this point."
George rubbed his chin, thinking, and then his head snapped up. His mind was reeling with this sudden crazy idea that would get Montcroix off her back and would allow him to shower her with the love he's been bottling up for so long. If he couldn't ask Y/N out for real, why not go for the next best thing? He blurted it out before he had time to second guess himself. "We could pretend to be a couple."
"What?" Y/N stared at him.
"We could pretend to be dating. If Montcroix thinks you have a boyfriend, he'll hopefully leave you alone. And if not, I'll kick his ass."
For a brief moment she harbored hope that maybe George wanted to be more than just friends.
But, then reality set in.
'Oh,' she thought. 'Pretend. Not for real. George isn't one to beat around the bush. If he actually wanted to date me he'd just ask me straight out.
No, this is just a friend helping out a friend.'
At least now she knew.
Y/N looked down at her hands, forcing back her tears. How could she say yes? How could she pretend her true feelings weren't real? How could she endure knowing his affections were all an act? Knowing it all had an expiration date.
She truly didn't know, and yet...
How could she say no? How could she throw away the opportunity to be loved by George, even if it wasn't real? Even if it was only temporary. This might be as close as she'd ever get to living her dream.
Y/N chewed on her lip as she convinced herself this was a good idea. Then looking back up at George, she smiled. "Sure. Why not?"
Part two:
~•~
@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @imshiningjustforyou @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @princess-paramour @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @igncrantbliss
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x you#george weasley headcanon#george weasley imagines#george weasley fic#george weasley fluff#george weasley angst#hp universe#hp fandom#harry potter fandom#harry potter universe
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Turn Me To Ashes
This one's an angsty little piece written for this ask. Its a self-indulgent little piece that's got a bit of everything: Price before he was a Captain, some angst, Price on a motorbike, some more angst, and finally that last bit of angst to cap things off nicely.
The biggest thank you to @mvtthewmurdvck who read this thing piecemeal and gave me the support to post it as well as @soapskneebrace and @yeyinde for indulging my crazed Price thoughts.
Pairing: John Price x f!Reader
Warnings: PAIN
You will your eyes to deceive you like they have in the past. At moments most inconvenient they fashion a mirage so cogent you’d think it’s all they’ve ever done.
And now—
“J—”
They don’t.
It’s your heart that betrays you instead. “John.”
There’s an unmistakable flinch in his bearing at the sound of your voice, but he turns around, nevertheless.
He looks different but also the same.
There are tufts of grey where there used to be pure chestnut. A weathered face carved of grit, chiseled down by years of bellicose.
He looks tired, you think.
Or maybe it’s you that brings it out in him.
Had the years not passed in his absence, you’d have made a dig at him. Something along the lines of ‘People know we’re the same fuckin’ age, John, and you’re makin’ me seem older than I am’. Or maybe ‘At least you committed to the beard — spent a good couple years wondering if y’were gonna grow one’.
Instead, you stand there awkward and silent, imagining a conversation that isn’t really happening.
He watches you, wistful. Like he’s doing the same.
After a moment, he’s entirely expressionless and you’re not sure whether you’re more disappointed or surprised. Foreseeably the prior, more like. He’s a captain now. SAS. The ever-dependable island of a man surrounded by oceans of unpredictability.
“We draw the line where we need to.”
“Not we, John. You.”
It’s been over a decade since and the memory of it still blisters.
Bluebird. Blue.
That’s what he called you. You suppose it was fitting. You were protective, bordering on territorial — especially when it came to him.
“Is that an insult, Price?”
“It’s a compliment, dove.”
It was hard not to be. You came up together, joining the army within months of each other. Through sheer contingency, your paths crossed enough times for bonds to be made and friendships to be forged. Nothing more.
Nothing either of you would openly concede to.
It started the night of your birthday, a few years in. A party in the mess hall took a turn and so did the line that stood firm between the two of you. In a flurry of hasty fingers, impassioned moans, and your breath tinged with the burn of scotch, you allowed the levee to break and out poured months of hidden impulses that burst at your seams. Now they flowed freely across your tongue, gliding onto his against the beaten brick wall of the outer barracks.
“Just this once, hmm?” He promised.
“Just this once.” You quickly agreed under a high miasma of his lips and molten touch. Writhing and panting beneath him, you’d have committed to any oath at that moment. Part of you knew you didn’t mean it, but you said it anyway.
You later realized he didn’t much mean it either.
So, yes — you felt entitled to him in some way. Especially when the paramedics made eyes at him, and the rookies fought reason to have him indulge them in conversation. He’d grant them one, of course. Of course. You’d watch them, coquettish and wide-eyes and it was hard not to wonder if this was what he wanted.
You, inversely, snapped back. While there was an immense amount of mutual respect and understanding between the two of you, you had to make it noticeable that you weren’t beholden to him. It wasn’t for the benefit of your fellow soldiers or the watchful eyes of your superiors.
It was for you and him.
There was the silent yet ever present threat of impermanence. An occupational hazard you had come to terms with, or so you thought. But then the thought of his ephemerality burned a hole in your chest.
You could die. You had no qualms with that, you had planned for it. You even wrote him a letter.
You hoped he hadn’t done the same.
The other women — they were easier, straightforward. You weren’t. You were an exposed live wire of harsh candor and even harsher pain. An irritant holding up a mirror, a challenge with no end. It made sense at times to think that you were better left aside than with him.
What’s that story about the man pushing a boulder up a hill?
But then once the sun withdrew from the skies and the stars took its place, he’d only ever go searching for you.
You brought it up once in a canopy of post-coital bliss. The sound of his heart beating in a steady metronome, his fingers dancing up and down your spine, the way you just lay there in comfortable silence was all too perfect. It made your walls descend and your insecurities awaken.
So, you asked. “Why me?”
“We match, Blue.” He simply said and you believed him.
Until you didn’t.
He asked you home with him, once.
He looked just as surprised as you at his invitation, but your hasty ‘Yes, okay. Yes, I’ll come home with you’ didn’t give him a chance to backtrack.
His answering smile was one you etched into your myocardium. Always hoping for the best and expecting the worst, you knew you might need it.
You try your best to mimic it and give him something in return.
You match.
It was painfully awkward — that first flight back. You sat side by side in an aircraft with other home bound soldiers, chatty and eager.
Not the two of you, though.
He slept for most of it, or he pretended to; the lip of his beanie pulled over his eyes, head resting against the window, arms crossed at his chest. His shoulders would shake in sync with the aircraft’s rumble through some mild turbulence, but the man didn’t so much as shuffle out of his REM.
Not pretend, then.
You finally let out the breath you weren’t aware you were holding and make the snap decision to use this time to your advantage. There were people around, much to your relief they were entirely unaware. You allowed yourself some indulgences, letting your eyes dance over his sleeping form and zeroing in on all those details you hadn’t had the luxury to appreciate.
The scar hidden in the five o’clock shadow now forms across his jaw. You remember how he got it — narrowly avoiding some shrapnel a few months back in Astana. All he walked away with was a bit of metal half a centimetre deep.
Your fingers embarked on an expedition of their own as you absentmindedly traced the back of his hand that peeked through the crest of his elbow. They followed a patterned dance of up and over around each finger, through the valley between each knuckle, and down the risen veins and back.
Ad nauseam.
You pretended not to notice the irregularity in his breathing, the slight twitch in his lips as you continued on.
Eventually, his arms uncrossed, and you bit back your disappointment as he hooked a thumb over the flap covering his eyes to meet yours.
“Glad to be able to entertain ya, Blue”
You wished he’d go back to his feigned sleep, and you’d go back to your little game.
“It’s not the worst thing I could have done, John.” You kept your voice steady. Lighthearted. There was a hint of embarrassment trickling at the back of your throat, but you wouldn’t dare reveal it.
“Oh?” He shifted in his seat, leaning towards you. Your eyes quickly veered to gauge your peripherals for any possible interruptions.
This was a clandestine moment. One you weren’t keen to share.
He seemed all too unbothered, his eyes downcast glancing upon your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
“Simmons— he, uh, wanted to draw a cock across your face. Good thing I stopped him.”
“How’d you do that?” Without a moment’s pause, he took your hand in his, large palm eclipsing yours entirely as his fingers wove their way through yours.
“Shot his bollocks off.”
It was so painfully tender. You’d have captured it in a globe for your mantle if you could. It bled such intimacy for which you felt entirely undeserving.
You were harsh people. You and John. Forged and brutalized to the point wherein moments like this feel like a vain, almost opulent purchase of your time. Frugality in all matters of heart was an imperative choice to be made.
Sink or swim.
Perish or survive.
And the two of you. Well—
“And you let me sleep through it?”
He invited you home and you schooled yourself to let it all be about a good time. A bit of R&R and some sex.
Wasn’t it?
He promised to show you around.
“I’ll show you where I had my first kiss, love.”
“Careful, John. A girl might get jealous.”
A glance into his past made the possibility of a future bloom.
The bait. It was too enticing. It had too much potential, the thought of you and him. Having a life outside of iron, lead, and dirt.
You couldn’t just—
You pulled away from him with about a tenth of the delicacy you were hoping for. His expression shifted five times over in the span of a second. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. Resignation. Apathy.
“You looked like you needed your solid eight.”
It was better that way.
It was a vintage Honda. John’s motorbike. It suited him to a T.
There is always something to be said for a reliable classic.
“Wanted this exact model as a lad, but my dad—“
He paused, swallowing down like he’d just tasted something bitter before continuing.
“Bought it as a beaten down clunker an’ I built it up.”
He looked at you, a bit self-effaced, in hopes of earning your admiration.
You couldn’t dare to disappoint him.
You recognized it as a point of pride within him. To him, it epitomized his freedom. His steadfast nature. To you, it was a death machine with a chassis built around it. But it wasn’t a fear that lingered.
The moment you were seated pillion, your body molded to the back of his. Every turn along the road, you were counterpoised by him. It was more graceful than you would have imagined. A delicate kind of waltz wherein he led you so intuitively, you felt as though you’ve been his passenger for a lot longer than you have.
It was the subliminal trust you had in him. What was usually conveyed with a look, if that, was now a tête-à-tête of his parity and your belief.
He did make good on his promise.
For the time you spent with him, morning rides were routine. You raced daybreak, cruising against asphalt, feeling the thrum of the engine behind the settling in your sternum. The amorous backcloth of the gliding mist at your feet, the ever-present chill of morning air curtaining the warmth of his body. At every stoplight, his hands would stroke the length of your calves, palm tightening around the exposed skin of your ankle.
The roads lay bare at that early of an hour, your only companions were the even-spaced streetlights along your way.
“That one there. Right under the hood of it. I was fourteen. Her same was Iris”. He said.
“Was it a good first kiss?”
“Oh, the best.”
You mapped it out like the route to a treasure. All this trivia, the stories. You harmonized every likened memory of his with one of your own.
The fantasy of the path untraveled remained your consolation prize for when your time with him came to an end.
It was near perfection.
All good things, however—
Betrayal is an ugly word, you think, and often misrepresented in its severity.
What might be a disappointment is deemed as grievous as betrayal just because it’s coupled with heartbreak.
Death in its unfortunate certainty is commonplace in a world like yours. The fact that it comes before it’s due is a bitter pill you’ve managed to swallow.
You grieve. You reminisce. You move on to the next.
But there are some that stick. It’s not the ones you don’t see coming. It’s the ones you do and fail to stop. They are the ones that linger well past the descent of ironed cloth on a closed casket.
What do you do when reliable foundation crumbles and you’ve lost all footing? You change.
John changed.
Something in the blood of his fallen comrade stained more than skin and cloth.
His perception turned — uprooting philosophies of adherence to something more uncontrolled.
There were lines he began to cross. Ones he expected you to cross with him.
John wasn’t a man you made a habit of denying. The very thought of it lit a match of unease within you. He asked and asked, and your resolve nearly collapsed, but you remained planted across the underscore of his reasoning while his hand remained outreached.
You just didn’t take it.
I’m sorry, okay?
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ice burns // myg
summary - tired of yoongi constantly one upping you, you finally snap, challenging him to a duel. . . in the middle of class. only in the afterwards of your mutual destruction of the classroom do you learn that maybe, just maybe, he’s not as bad as you thought
pairing - academic rival!yoongi x teachers pet!reader
genre - fluff; wizard 101 au
word count - 3.3k
warnings - dip’s made up lore, yoongi is a bit mean, academic rivals >>>
guide - thaumaturgy = ice magic, necromancy = death magic, theurgy = life magic
author’s note - again, yes they have last names for reasons
the seven schools of ravenwood masterlist
You hated Yoongi Iceblood.
There was nothing much to it. He was stuck up, rude, entitled, and a know-it-all. And not to mention that last name, ugh. Iceblood. His family came from a long line of thaumaturges, claiming to be taught by the Ice Giants themselves in the Days Before. Then to just rub it in further, he had chosen Death as his secondary school. One of the most reserved and harshest classes. Yoongi had been named well.
And it angered you more than anything.
Your rivalry with Yoongi started years before either of you were even old enough to attend Ravenwood. Back when the streets of Wizard City were safe to walk on alone. Down in the cold, snowy roads of Colossus Boulevard.
It was a surprisingly nice day, considering it was winter year round on the boulevard. You remember the sun shining through the ever present grey clouds, causing the snow to glitter in the light. Your mother allowed you to play outside for the day, your older siblings had just started school and needed quiet in the house whilst they did their homework. You spent hours walking through the beaten path of the lower part of the street, so you began to head upwards.
Small, squished apartments turned into lavished homes the closer you got to the castle. No king or queen resides in it, no. But it was home to many government officials and their families. This was where you met Yoongi for the first time.
Looking at the many houses in awe, you were not paying attention to what was in front of you, leading you to walk straight into Yoongi. Both of you fell into the snow with an ‘oof’. Pushing yourself up, you looked at the young boy you had crashed into. Snow clinging to his blue hair and white robes, judging from the style alone, it didn’t take an idiot to realize you’d crashed into one of the more affluent wizards. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he cut you off before you could say a word.
“Watch where you’re going, snowpig!”
The apology died on your tongue. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he sneered as he stood up on his feet.
“Well maybe you should watch where you’re going!” Admittedly, it was your fault, but to insult you so brazenly? No, you wouldn’t have it.
The blue haired boy gaped in shock, but before he could retort, a voice called out his name, summoning him home. Yoongi, as you learned, narrowed his eyes on you. But he said nothing as he disappeared into one of the nicest houses on the block.
You never thought you would see him again. That it was simply a one off encounter and you would never see the likes of him ever again. But you thought wrong, and you couldn’t have felt more stupid for thinking otherwise. Despite your different social standings, both of you came from families of thaumaturges. His family only ever enrolled in only Ice for their primary school, whilst your family was a mix of having the subject as a primary or secondary.
The moment you walked into Professor Greyrose’s novice class, his eyes fell on you, narrowing. You turned your head away to ignore him, wanting to purely focus on class and learning thaumaturgy. Yoongi, on the other hand, did not plan on doing the same.
“I didn’t know they allowed snowpigs at Ravenwood.” Laughter roared from the students that surrounded him as heat rose to your cheeks in anger. “How long do you think they’ll last? I bet they wouldn’t even make it past the first lesson.”
It was then and there when you vowed to yourself that no matter what, you would best Yoongi Iceblood.
Where he chose necromancy as his secondary, you chose theurgy. Not a challenging self taught class like Death, but just difficult seeing how Ice was as far from Life as possible. When he learned a new spell, you made sure to advance by two more.
It wasn’t a secret, by any means. Yoongi had caught on, and he fought back twice as hard. As the years passed, the entirety of Ravenwood knew, placing bets on who would earn the highest marks on each passing test. Both of you remained at the top of the class, as whenever one of you managed to advance, the other would catch right back up.
Which leads you to today; Professor Greyrose was asking for a demonstration for the Ice Wyvern. As expected, both you and Yoongi stood up, raising your hands. You smiled as the half-fairy selected you. Standing up, you raised your want and closed your eyes. You’d been practicing the spell for ages in your dormitory, and last night finally the creature came to your call. You drew out the symbol of Ice in the air, focusing all your energy in bringing forth the wyvern once more. With the mastery of that spell, you’d be ahead of Yoongi once again (he’d jumped ahead of you a few weeks prior).
The pressure was on, you had to do this.
You knew you could do it.
You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt the familiar chill of ice running through your veins.
Then the worst happened.
The Ice symbol that was floating in the air shattered, tiny bits of broken magic fell to the ground in a sparkly mess.
A fizzle.
Professor Greyrose smiled at you sadly, but before she could even thank you for the attempt, Yoongi stood up from his seat.
“Oh please.” With a wave of his wand, the symbol appeared in the air once again. Instead of fizzling, it glowed brighter as the Ice Wyvern formed in the air above. He made it look as easy, like it was nothing but a Frost Beetle he was summoning. The wyvern floated in the air above for a few moments before vanishing, a smug look written all over his face.
You didn’t know what came over you, but you raised your wand again, this time directed straight at Yoongi.
“Get down!” Someone shouted as an Ice Serpent jumped from your wand and spat at Yoongi. The force of the serpent’s icey venom threw him back against the wall, knocking down one of the shields that lined the room.
You couldn’t believe you just did that. Before you could manage to stutter out an apology (or Greyrose to get you to stop), you met Yoongi’s eyes and a shiver was sent through you, even though by now you are far too used to the cold.
He summoned his own serpent, casting it back at you. But instead of spitting at you, the creature wrapped its scaly body around you, squeezing you tight until it faded away, leaving you a bit breathless.
You’d like to say at this part you conceded, stopping the duel right then and there and accepting whatever punishment Professor Greyrose deemed fit. However, you can’t say that. Cold anger flowed through your veins. You’ve grown used to the effects of ice magic on your body for years now, but this was something you had never felt before. Pinpricks poked and prodded at your every nerve as you waved your wand and stormy grey clouds appeared in the center of the ceiling.
Blizzard.
“Everyone take cover!” Professor Grey rose shouted, everyone jumping underneath their desks. Your fellow students yelped and cowarded as four loud thunderous booms echoed in the small building, shaking the ground with each hit. Then it all went quiet. Not even the ever present bubbling of the ice potion was heard.
Slowly, you peered out from above your desk. The blue shields that lined the sides of the classroom had fallen to the ground, beant and or broken. The black boards snapped into near splinters. It was a mere miracle that the desks were even still standing!
“Frostthorn! Iceblood!” You flinched at the sound of Greyrose’s shrill voice. Both you and Yoongi rose to your feet, neither of you saying a word. You kept your eyes focused on the ground, ashamed of yourself. “You are my best students and I- I cannot believe this! Dueling! In the middle of class! I just-” She flitted about before settling down on her desk, folding her arms. “Both of you will clean this mess up. I want my classroom looking back as it was. No magic! Understand?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Yes, Professor Greyrose.”
“Now, the rest of you, class is dismissed.” The other adept thaumaturges quickly gathered their things (or what was left of them) before scattering out the front door. Professor Greyrose looked down at the two of you once again, shaking her head. “I am very disappointed.” With that, she flew out the door.
Neither you or Yoongi moved for a moment, standing in the aftermath of your destruction. Silently, you started picking up the larger bits of broken wood and metal, wanting to get it out of the way first. Yoongi followed soon after you, moving towards the broken blackboards. The two of you are in a silent agreement to not speak at all as you cleaned up the class, leaving you to stew in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but feel foolish. You allowed yourself to let your anger get the best of you. You’re an Ice Wizard, for goodness sake, have the same great patience as the mighty glaciers.
“You know. . .” Yoongi was the one to speak first after nearly two hours of cleaning.
“I don’t want to hear it, Iceblood.”
He scoffed at your retort. “I was simply going to say that if we were following proper duel etiquette, you won.”
“But because we weren’t, I suppose you were victorious?”
“No, because I wasn’t following it either. We both lost.”
You couldn’t believe your ears. After so many years of Yoongi’s taunts and belittling you, to hear him admitting that you had bested him in a duel (proper or not), you felt pride swelling up in your chest. “Oh? So does that mean you finally think I’m better than you?”
“What?” He dropped the wooden board he was holding. “No. No! I wasn’t saying that! If we actually followed the rules of combat, you would’ve won. You did cast Blizzard.”
“Right. . . I did. . .”
He furrowed his brows at you. “Did you not mean to?”
“I’ve. . . never cast it. I only managed Ice Wyvern last night,” you confessed.
“You’re. . . that’s impressive.”
You eyed him strangely, wondering how or why Yoongi was suddenly so amiable to you after so many years. “Thank you.” You thought that would be the end of the conversation, but he spoke up again.
“If you want, maybe we could study together. Give each other tips, help hone our skills.”
“You want to study? Together?” This had to be a dream, there was no way Yoongi Iceblood was offering to be study buddies with you.
“You have a lot of potential, that’s all!” He clarified, his voice cracking slightly. “It would be a waste of your talents, teaching yourself.”
You pondered his offer for a moment, before nodding. “I suppose it would also be fair for me to beat you on even ground.”
Yoongi scoffed as he walked over to you, his hand extended outwards. “You’re on then.”
You eyed his hand cautiously before taking it. “May the best wizard win.”
By the time Professor Greyrose returned, the classroom was near back to normal. Unfortunately, because of your informal duel and destruction of school property, you both were suspended from class for the next few days. You were obviously distraught at the thought of missing classes, but Yoongi told you it was fair punishment. Besides, you could come visit him at his house to study and catch up together.
So that was where you spent the next few days, in Yoongi’s frozen castle, located not far from Wizard City. You were shocked to learn he didn’t live on campus with other students, but he’d admitted to you (a bit shyly too) that he’d never lived in the dorms. His parents did not want him to mingle with others and have complete privacy whilst he studied.
The first time you visited, you were in complete awe of it all. It was a frozen wonderland, with a large tower serving as his home. But the real site to behold was the two stone statues of a Dragon and Ice Giant facing off in battle that stood on the other side of the floating island
“You’re the first person I've invited over,” he told you as you approached his in-house library. Dozens of books lined the walls; topics ranging from types of magic to crafting to the history of all the worlds in the spiral. It was an impressive collection.
“I’m honored, but let’s get to it. Shall we?”
When your suspension was lifted, your class was shocked to see you both engaged in friendly conversation, smiling and laughing as if you hadn’t been dueling each other a mere few days ago. Word spread like wildfire, soon enough the whole of Ravenwood had heard of your’s and Yoongi’s odd acquaintance (you wouldn’t dare say friends)(at least not yet).
Even afterwards, you and Yoongi continued to work together and study for the upcoming exam, where you would move from the adept thaumaturge class to the magus class. You were nervous to say the least, having struggled a lot with some of the coursework, regardless of Yoongi’s help.
Then there was the matter of your new acquaintance in general. You knew he was smart, but you never knew exactly how smart. His family had taught him loads about thaumaturgy in theory, but never in practice, which is how he fell short of some spells. So most of your study sessions had been him telling you bits of information and helpful tips on remembering them.
Factoring all that in while studying for the adept final exam, you’ve never felt more nervous. Never before had you both been on even ground before. What if everything he’d told you was a lie and caused you to flunk the class? What if you had to start the whole class over again? Why was he so nice to you? Why did he always smile and congratulate you anytime you successfully cast a spell? And why did his words stir butterflies in your stomach each time without fail?
You don’t know when it happened but at some point, you stopped caring about being better than Yoongi. Your study sessions no longer came about from wanting to work on even ground, to beat him hard and true through hard work. But suddenly became actually wanting to be around him, to work with him, to help each other and better each other instead of just yourself.
“You alright there?” Yoongi asked, pulling you out from your thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been staring at History of the Ice Guardian for the past ten minutes?”
You blinked down at the open book in front of you. He was right, you hadn’t moved on from that page in Spiral knows how long. “Sorry, my mind is a bit elsewhere, I guess.”
“Nervous about the exam?”
“That and many other things?” You huffed, shutting the book. “But mainly the exam, I just don’t want to fail miserably.”
“You won’t. You’ve worked hard. You’ve got this.”
“You know, I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to you encouraging me,” you admitted, chuckling awkwardly. “For so long, all I wanted was to be better than you and to have you on my side, it feels like I’m missing a reason to do this. . .”
He didn’t say anything, causing you to look up at him curiously. He was gnawing on his lower lip. “What if we had a little friendly competition like I don’t know. . . a wager?”
“A wager?”
“Yeah, like say if I get higher marks, you have to pay for my ice cream.”
“We’re getting ice cream?” You asked.
He gave a vague shrug. “Yeah, little reward for us after studying so hard. I get ice cream after every exam.”
“And if I get higher marks?”
“Then I’ll buy your ice cream.”
You thought over his offer for a moment before holding out his hand. “You got yourself a deal, Iceblood.”
The day of the exam came around and you couldn’t stop fidgeting; you’d pick at your robes, twist the rings around your fingers, anything to help settle your nerves. Noticing your nervousness, Yoongi (who’d moved to sit next to you in class now) placed a hand over yours, giving it a squeeze.
“You got this.”
“Thanks. Good luck.”
He winked as Professor Greyrose handed you both your exams, allowing you to start.
Throughout the exam, you felt as if you were going to be sick. Writing out the answer, scratching it out then rewriting it out because you were right the first time. Sure you’ve been nervous taking tests before, but never before had there felt like such high stakes (it was ice cream, why were you so stressed?).
Once the last of the exams had been turned in, Professor Greyrose dismissed the class, saying results would be posted in three days’ time. So for three, long grueling days, you waited. Yoongi didn’t appear nearly as stressed as you, chuckling as you all but ran towards Ravenwood.
“Relax! The results aren’t going anywhere.”
“How can you tell me to relax? This was the adept final exam! I can’t fail this term, I just can’t!”
“And you’re not going to!” Yoongi said as you walked through the tunnel. “I told you, you’ve got this.”
“Sorry, I just. . . haven’t been this stressed before.”
“What? You’re worried about spending some extra gold coins on ice cream?” He raised a brow at you.
“No it’s just. . . I don’t know.”
“No, tell me.”
With a sigh, you stopped walking. “We’re on even ground. You know everything I know and I know everything you know. What if I’m actually not that good. . .”
“Nonsense, you got this far by yourself, didn’t you?” You nodded. “Then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. You’re a good thaumaturge, Y/N.”
“Thanks, Yoongi.”
“Now come on, let’s see who’s buying ice cream.” With that, he took you by the hand and you continued walking through the tunnel, towards the School of Ice. Already a group of people had gathered outside the door, eager to see their results. As the two of you approached, your classmates whispered amongst themselves. Their voices might’ve been low, but you could see the way they looked between your entwined hands and the posting on the door.
Oh dear.
Releasing Yoongi’s hand, you pushed your way to the front, ignoring the heat growing up against your cheeks as you could feel everyone’s eyes as you pushed through the crowd. Your eyes flickered to the top of the page scanning the name that received the highest test score.
It was your name.
Written above Yoongi’s.
You could feel him standing beside you. “I believe a congratulations are in order,” he said, holding out his hand. You took it, shaking it gently. “Congrats, I told you you could do it.”
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out. Instantly you cringed at your words, dropping his hand.
He looked at you, puzzled. “What are you sorry for? You earned that score, fair and square.”
“For running into you. . . and for dueling you in the middle of class, it was. . . it was stupid. And I’m sorry.”
“Oh. . .” He nodded, remembering that first ever encounter all those years ago. “I’m sorry for calling you a snowpig. That was. . . I shouldn’t have done that. It was mean, and I was mean to you. You had every right to challenge me.”
It was weird how light you felt after that. But it felt good. “I hope that means you’re not gonna go easy on me from now on. I’m still determined to best you!” You poked him in the shoulder.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responded. “Now come on, I believe I owe you ice cream.”
“I believe you do,” you said as you linked your arm with his, heading towards the nearest food shack.
Maybe Yoongi Iceblood wasn’t that bad after all.
#btsghostie#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#bts x reader#min yoongi x gender neutral reader#yoongi x gender neutral reader#bts x gender neutral reader#bts wizard au#wizard min yoongi#wizard101 au#bts x wizard 101#fluff#bts fluff#min yoongi fluff
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Hi, Machi! You are more than welcome to ignore this request if it's too weird, but I would love to see your take on a modern day AU bully!Gyutaro and a masochist f!reader who realizes she actually likes his bullying? Does not have to be academy setting, any setting works!
Headcanons or one-shot are fine with me, and I'm happy with both SFW and NSFW stuff! Thank you so much!
Bully!Gyutaro x Masochist!F!reader One-Shot
CW: Bullying, mild language, mild verbal abuse, mild sexual harassment (?), mild physical violence, suggestive (?) behavior
Takes place in a modern day school, but not necessarily the Kimetsu Academy. Up to interpretation!
~~~
The sound of rubber-soled tennis shoes thumping gently against the tile underfoot echoed down the darkened school hallway, Y/N being the very last person to leave that day. She had stayed at school awfully late, but mostly by accident, having lost track of time in her favorite little corner of the library and ending up staying way past the time that the last bus could have picked her up.
Now, she would have to walk back home, but she didn’t really mind. She had her phone if anything happened, and people who she could hopefully trust to look for her. The inconvenience didn’t bother her all that much.
She was softly humming a made-up melody as she made her way down the hall, clutching the strap of her dark-colored backpack while the book she had been reading was stashed snugly under her other arm. There were a few stray pieces of hair in her face, but that didn’t really bother her, either; she just left it there and kept on humming as she walked.
Y/N sighed as she passed by some of the third year classrooms, herself being only a second year at this school. Most of them were nice enough people, but a select few had been picking on her for a while now.
Normally, Y/N was a shy yet strong girl, who couldn’t really be brought down by others. Still, there was one third year in particular who always seemed to dig underneath her nerves whenever she saw him.
At the thought of him and his humiliating taunts, an image of curly locks, stark blue eyes, and dark splotches across a lanky body was conjured in Y/N’s head, and it made her shiver.
Gyutaro was an a very odd and rather hostile older teenager, and almost no one liked him, besides his entitled little sister, Ume - who was well-known for being the best-looking girl in school, while Gyutaro was regarded as being incredibly ugly. Y/N didn’t really see what the others meant by that, but that didn’t mean she liked him.
The lanky bully would do almost anything he deemed necessary to protect his little sister, even starting fights with people who supposedly looked at her the wrong way. Not only that, but he was also known for going out of his way to torment any and every person who seemed to have it better in life than him and Ume.
Y/N knew she was one of those people he viewed as “privileged”, since she was his main target nowadays. She assumed it was because she had the kind of money to afford things like AirPods or high-quality notebooks - but he might not. Rumors had circled for a long time that Gyutaro and his sister were living in poverty, so she sort of understood, but that didn’t make dealing with him any easier.
Suddenly, she almost could have sworn that she heard the distinct sound of Gyutaro’s thin, drawn-out voice say something to her as she kept on walking, but she quickly chalked it up to being just her imagination, as she had just been thinking about his awful bullying of her, after all. That was, until she heard it again.
“Hey… Can’t you look up when people are talking to you?”
Y/N stopped in her tracks, a frown tugging at her pretty features as she looked upwards, having been staring at the the without noticing who had been just emerged from on of the third year classrooms. The tall bully she had only just been thinking about was suddenly just directly in front of her, his deep blue eyes staring down at her coldly.
She blinked, words failing her for a moment as she struggled to process that he was actually there. “Oh, uh, hi…?”
Gyutaro’s glare deepened as he stared down at her, hunched over just slightly with his hands stuck in his pockets. He didn’t say anything to her, but one eyebrow was raised expectantly, as if he were waiting for something.
Y/N swallowed, her grip on her backpack strap tight tightening just a little bit. “Did you, uhm, need something? Where’s your sister?”
“That’s none of your business…” he drawled, eyes narrowing at her. “I asked you a question, you know.”
“Oh, you did?” Y/N licked her dry, chapped lips, still holding onto her book and her bag as she nervously looked up at the much taller teenager. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Mm.” He rolled his eyes, before leaning down a bit farther and repeating himself. “I asked you what a dumb girl like you is still doing here, huh…?”
“A dumb girl like me?” She couldn’t keep herself from asking, confusion having filled her smaller frame as soon as he said it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s not what I asked you, is it?” Gyutaro said in that low, almost sticky-sounding voice, like he could just never quite get enough fair into his lungs. “Why are you still here, huh…?”
Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, feeling mildly annoyed, but mostly still very nervous to be so close to him, especially when no one else was around. “Sorry, I just, uh. I was reading my favorite book again, and just, lost track of time, I guess.”
She held up the book in her one hand as she said this, which was a yellow hard-cover copy of the book Little Women, a literary classic.
Almost as soon as she had lifted it from under her arm, Gyutaro reached out and whacked it out of her hand, the book hitting the ground with an echoing smack and sliding several feet away as Y/N just flinched.
“Don’t you realize that the buses have been gone for almost an hour?” He asked her, stuffing his hand back into his pocket as he bent down to look at her again, since she had looked towards the ground. “You’re still so damn stupid… So what’s your plan, huh…?”
Y/N swallowed, her heart seeing to be racing from a feeling that wasn’t fear - which she ignored as she looked up at him again. “I’ll be walking home, it’s not far.”
Gyutaro snorted as if amused, before he rolled his eyes. “Walking home? This late? In a town like this? You’re even more dumb than I thought…”
The girl bit her lip, trying to imagine what it would be like if she just tried to walk away and ignore him. She decided to just go for it, and wish herself the best of luck.
“I really should be getting home,” she said as she tried to step around him with a polite forced smile, but Gyutaro reached out and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back and pushing her rather roughly into the nearby lockers with a clang.
“Hey now, I didn’t say you could leave just yet, did I…?”
Y/N struggled to get herself back on stable footing, flinching with a small gasp when Gyutaro leaned forward and pinned one arm near her head, the clang resounding through the hall. She stared at him with wide eyes, a heat creeping across her face, but she tried to hide it by looking down and allowing her hair to cover her warm cheeks.
She didn’t actually like this, did she?
“You know, I don’t like this awful skirt you’re wearing…” Gyutaro said as he reached down and tugged the end of her skirt, which was short, and only covered down to her upper thigh. “All the guys, and girls for that matter, were staring at you all damn day…”
Y/N swallowed, unaware that she had apparently been an attention magnet that day. If she didn’t notice, how did her bully?
“It shows off too much skin…” he said as he took the end of the skirt in his fist and pulled a little harder, the fabric ripping just a little in his hand before he let go and hissed his next words. “I set some of them straight, don’t worry. No one should be looking at someone as pathetic as you, anyway…”
At this, Y/N felt her entire body warm up, but she still refused to look at him, initially embarrassed that she might be taking pleasure from his mockery. She just stared at the edge of her ripped skirt, wondering how she would explain that to her caretakers.
“Hey, don’t be rude,” Gyutaro growled, still leaning over her, his face so close she could feel his breath against her skin. “Don’t ignore me when I’m talking to you.”
She didn’t look up despite what he was saying, biting her lip and trying to force down the spreading heat she could feel creeping across her neck and face. She almost couldn’t believe she was finding herself enjoying this, but part of her knew she had always liked being the center of his twisted affection.
“Hey, don’t be a stranger!” He said with an almost twisted glee in his voice.
Gyutaro then suddenly reached up and grabbed her by the hair, his bony fingers wound tightly into her scalp as he pulled her face up roughly, forcing her to look into those haunting blue eyes. At this, her face went from a mildly warm to burning hot in an instant,
Upon seeing that Y/N was not scared of him, but in fact had the softest look of pleasure because of him, Gyutaro paused. For a moment, he just stared at her, dumbfounded, as if unsure what to do now. Then, his blue eyes narrowed, and a smirk tugged at his unique facial features.
“Hold on…” he said as he tightened his grip on her hair a little bit, “don’t tell me you’re into this…?”
Y/N felt her body get even more hot when he said it so blatantly like that, and she might have even drooled had she possessed less self control.
Gyutaro reached up with his other hand and poked his painted index finger into the crook between her collarbones, pressing on the space until he heard a small squeak of pain escape her, to which she blushed harder and he smirked a little wider.
“I really wasn’t expecting this…” he muttered as he pulled back his finger and loosened his grip on her hair, “but I’m not upset…”
Y/N almost felt disappointed when Gyutaro seemed to momentarily become more gentle with her, before he surprised her and suddenly grabbed her by the neck, pushing her back against the lockers as a suggestive sound escaped her warm lips.
Gyutaro chuckled slightly, pressing his cold fingers onto her flushed skin as he leaned down towards her face, his breath tickling her earlobe as he whispered.
“Things just got a bit more interesting, don’t you think…?”
#machigai writes#machigai ask box#gyutaro x y/n#gyutaro#gyutaro x reader#bully au#modern day au#request
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TTNBD BLOG PART SIX
This blog covers chapters seven and eight of the story.
CHAPTER SEVEN – SUMMONING CIRCLES
Black Butler was one of my first fandoms. Not my first anime, by any means, but one of the first series of any kind that I consumed fan content for. I was new to the world of fanfiction back then, certainly not writing it yet. But some of the first fanfiction I read was Sebastian/Ciel.
The first fandom I wrote for was Supernatural. If you look at my works catalogue on AO3, you’ll see it’s the one I’ve written for the most as well. While it wasn’t my first fandom, I consider it my first in that it was the space in which I began to explore and hone my fanfiction writing abilities and specialties. I consider it my origin fandom, in a way. That series, its worldbuilding (or lack thereof) and its tropes make up the background from which I come.
So, when it comes to writing things about rituals and demons and other such things, I’m well-suited to the task. As I said in the last blog, I have an aversion to such things in reality, but in fiction, I’m old hat. I could say I researched ritualistic magic or the occult and took great pains to make it seem accurate to what may have been attempted in real life. But that would be a lie. When it comes to the ritual Lizzy and Sybil perform to summon Sebastian, I really just stitched together bits and pieces from stories I’ve read in the past, seen on TV or intuited from my own hypothetical actions were I in such a situation.
I have several 1899/1900 calendar pages on my wall in my writing space of the months in which the story takes place. It allows me to clearly and easily visualise the timeline of events and not lose track of them, all for the sake of maintaining proper continuity. I like to include references to actual events when appropriate. When Sybil mentions that the night of January 8th, 1900, is the first quarter moon, that’s true! I looked up the lunar charts for January 1900 and picked the soonest day when the moon was doing something definite so I could use it for the ritual. It’s amazing that the information about the phases of the moon from over a hundred years ago is available to us!
Sybil describes the balance of nature, how the sun and moon will be in the sky at the same time, and that will create harmony within the heavens. Lizzy refers to it as “a sort of homeostasis”. Homeostasis is a scientific term used in biology to describe the process by which a living organism maintains stability within itself while adjusting to varying external conditions. The term wasn’t coined until 1926 (I looked it up) but it’s a cool word and I wanted Lizzy to say something smart, because what’s the point of her going to medical school if she hasn’t become a bit of a nerd?
Also, it gives Sybil an excuse to mentally swoon. That, and the bit with the jam. I was trying to keep up the romantic tension and not let it get lost in the plot.
And then DRAT! They are interrupted by Simeon! He’s been out all night- doing what, we just don’t know. I won’t say it here but trust that in the final arc of the story, we’ll get more explanation about Simeon’s activities. Sybil is lying to her dad, thinking he wouldn’t approve of her frankly insane plan. And she’s right- he wouldn’t, but not for the reasons she thinks.
And now, it’s time for the BURNING BRIDES case! This is the case covered in the third episode of the second season of the Black Butler anime, entitled “Wench Butler”. A couple of readers have asked me how I came up with the case, and it reminded me how few people have watched the second season, or at least how few people remember it. I also have not watched it in many, many years, but I’ve taken so many pieces of it for this story.
In the episode, Ciel is assigned a new case by the Queen. There have been a few suspicious deaths- young women, all recently married, have been dying via spontaneous combustion- a truly horrific way to die, if you ask me. In her letter, the Queen mentions her “Spider”, and Ciel is intrigued, not knowing who this other investigator might be (it’s Alois).
Ciel and Sebastian eventually figure out that the victims all had their portraits taken by a pair of photographers- a married couple, the Turners. Margaret Turner, the wife, always wanted a passionate, romantic marriage, but hated her husband and her life and resented these women for their happiness and youth. So, she uses phosphorous powder, normally ignited to make the flash necessary for photography at the time to immolate her victims. When caught, she states that there was “a man with golden eyes” (Claude) who told her that the commission of these crimes would bring her happiness and that he would come to take her away from her sad life. She then commits suicide via the same method she used for the murders.
I kept most of this and just reworked some of the timing and conversations. There was a scene in the episode where Sebastian and Ciel run into Grell Sutcliff- I wanted so BADLY to have Grell appear again, I love her so much, but it was messing with the timing and tension, and it was just a whole extra scene to write, and I wanted to keep the story going. Also, trying to cram in every single character cameo I can think of would muddy the waters too much in my opinion. So, I left it out.
But I wanted to include the case itself. I always really liked the concept of it. And I specialise in re-working canon material. I’ve never been a huge AU person (i.e. high school AU, modern AU, coffee shop AU etc.)- I don’t write them (I think I wrote a Steve/Bucky coffee shop AU ONCE, for a request), and I don’t read them. Everything I write is within the canon of the series I’m writing for; I find that space much more rewarding to play in because there are rules you must stick to but still so many possibilities for what you can achieve and finding that balance is super satisfying. Things like soulmate AUs and stuff are my favourite though because again, they can exist within the boundaries of canon but make things so much more exciting in their own way.
Anyway, enough of my tangents. Back to the story. Ciel and Sebastian are investigating, being cute at a crime scene (what else is new) and they’re being watched. Ciel is not as good at being subtle as he thinks he is, so Claude was able to pick up his scent when Ciel was following him and Alois before- and they’ve decided to return the favour. But they’re also not as subtle as they think they are- cue a rooftop chase.
I like to think that Ciel is really fast. Like, I know Sebastian is fast- we see it all the time. But something about Ciel being slightly smaller makes me think that he might be able to move that much more quickly, though Sebastian will probably never admit it. I can’t wait for the later chapters of the story where Ciel begins to hone his skills. He hasn’t had a reason to properly learn how to move and fight- he and Sebastian have been living in peacetime, so to speak, since the end of TTEOE. But running fast doesn’t require a lot of practise, so Ciel catches Claude and Alois pretty easily.
Good God, Ciel remarked. Is that how I looked all those times you had to carry me?
No. You were far more distinguished.
Why do I get the impression you’re only saying that to spare my pride?
Sebastian looked facetiously wounded. You know I am incapable of telling a lie.
Ciel scoffed. I’ll believe it when I see it.
Just popping that in there to tell you once again how much I love writing banter for these two. It feels so correct, it practically writes itself, really.
I couldn’t decide whose POV this conversation should happen from, so I switched throughout. I try to be careful when I employ this technique- it can quickly make things a little soupy, for lack of a better term. But I wanted this exchange to have observations from both Alois and Claude. Alois is trying to be brave while internally pissing his pants, and Claude is falling into a quick and disgusting obsession with Ciel, which is also taken directly from season two of the anime.
I couldn’t resist having Ciel comment on Claude’s name. A Faustian demon having the last name Faustus is the most basic-bitch bullshit, and I would expect nothing less from Alois Trancy.
I loved writing Alois and Ciel’s exchange. They’re both such spitfires, stubborn and bitchy and uncooperative. The funniest part of the conversation to me is the fact that Sebastian and Claude are standing no more than six feet away, glaring daggers at each other and ready to throw down at a moment’s notice. I just imagine those wavy red lines radiating off of them like you see in an anime when a character is frustrated or angry.
If it wasn’t clear already, Claude is straight up lying when he says that Sebastian murdered Alois’s brother. This brings up another topic I wanted to discuss, which is the thing demons are always saying about how they don’t lie. I always just assumed that statement itself is a lie, and that’s the joke, right- lying when you say you don’t lie? Obviously if a demon’s master gives them an order to answer a question honestly, they would have to, but outside of orders, I think demons can just bullshit all they want. Especially demons like Claude, who are already disloyal to their masters and stretching the limits of their contract’s rules to the absolute limit In order to complete their own goals.
Claude telling Alois that Sebastian killed his brother is also straight out of the anime- he lies to Alois there too, so I don’t feel weird about doing it in this fic. Demons are creatures of treachery, after all, and will ultimately do what’s good for themselves in the end. The only question is, why would Claude lay they blame on Sebastian? What could he stand to gain? Questions, questions, questions…
As I said before, for a lot of this summoning ritual, I’m writing off the top of my head. The thing about salt is true, though- salt is a purifier/preservative, so it’s often considered to be symbolically protective. Pouring salt lines in doorways and windowsills will supposedly protect a household, as no evil can pass through the barrier. That’s a thing in Supernatural, but Supernatural didn’t make it up, is what I’m saying.
The way I imagine this ritual works is like: Lizzy focuses on Sebastian. Sybil reaches into her brain with her witchy powers, connects to the spirit network and just pulls really hard on the threads of the universe until Sebastian appears. That’s all pretty vague but I don’t really think the specific mechanics of the ritual matter all that much. It’s magic, don’t worry about it.
The rest of this chapter was one of the first things I wrote for this fic. Not the very first- The scene in chapter one with Lizzy at Ciel’s grave was first written in 2019 (!!), but the first draft of this chunk of chapter seven is hand-written (I handwrite a lot of my fic) and dated as May 2022. I hadn’t yet figured out what the circumstances were for Ciel and Sebastian even being in London, or why they’d been talking to Claude, but I knew I wanted them to be making out when Sebastian got yoinked. It’s just very funny to me. Someone commented that it’s good Sybil and Lizzy didn’t wait much longer to start the ritual, or Sebastian would have been buck-ass naked when he showed up, and that gave me a good laugh. I hadn’t thought of that.
I love Ciel making Sebastian jealous on purpose. They both like annoying each other, it’s an Olympic sport for them, but we all know that Ciel secretly (or not so secretly) loves how possessive Sebastian is. He loves being needed and wanted and owned and *screams* I love writing it. Makes my brain go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
It was important to me that Sebastian show up in Sybil’s attic looking like an angry wet cat, only not wet. Frazzled maybe. He just got dissolved and pulled through space and then reassembled in a strange environment. You’d be frazzled too. I feel like I succeeded with my sketch.
Now that Ciel is a demon, it’s fun to have Sebastian be the one in danger because there’s actually more Ciel can do to save him- though his inability to really fight or anything is going to be a problem that needs rectifying (we’ll get there). He is, however, perfectly capable of smashing through a window and scaring the shit out of Lizzy and Sybil.
I knew from the very beginning that I HAD to have the moment Lizzy finding out Ciel is still alive be a cliffhanger at the end of a chapter. Nothing else would have done it justice. She was gagged. Gooped. Face? Cracked. Wig? Snatched.
CHAPTER EIGHT – A SOUL NO LONGER LIVING
Another Simeon flashback! I love writing these. I’m very fond of Simeon, much more than I thought I would be, considering he was basically only created to be a vehicle for exposition and plot continuance. We also get more insight into Ada, who I also love. I’m actually chipping away at a spin-off one-shot about their first few days together after making their contract it’s literally just porn but that’s beside the point. It’s quite a different dynamic than any other demon/master relationships that are seen in canon- but if there are many demons running around in the world, it would stand to reason that their contracts and relationships would be as diverse as they are.
In truth, I have ideas/intentions for a few spin-off one-shots of varying lengths for this universe. Don’t worry, I’m going to focus on finishing the main story first! But I’ve never been this excited to expand on a fic before. It’s a neat feeling, and I hope my readers will follow me along on the journey, even though I’m really just happy to write these ideas down for myself!
Ciel bursting into the room, dropping a “surprise, bitch” on Lizzy and then immediately ignoring her in favour of Sebastian is just very Him. I wanted this whole scene to be from Lizzy’s POV because again, I love that outsider shit, and she’s the one with the most new and overwhelming thoughts at this moment. As if it wasn’t enough that Ciel is alive, she suddenly sees him and Sebastian kissing- it’s a wonder her head didn’t explode! But that reveal was less surprising to her. Ciel and Sebastian were always… weirdly close, so she can’t claim to be too shocked.
He approached her, and she flinched. She never would have before- she would never have thought to be afraid of him- he would never have struck her. Now, though, she wasn’t so sure. There was some power, some darkness radiating from him that made the basest part of her shy away.
When I wrote this, I had fully forgotten the scene early in the anime when Ciel does totally reel back to slap Lizzy and Sebastian has to stop him. It’s a small thing, but I was kicking myself about it when I realised my mistake- nobody’s perfect, I guess.
“The eyepatch you wore,” Lizzy said, and then felt quite stupid. “It wasn’t from an injury, then.” Tears began to burn in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “That was a lie as well.”
Here, at this moment, we get Lizzy’s emotional hang-up for the rest of the arc- the fact that Ciel lied to her. For the record, I didn’t even expect her to care this much. She just would not let it go, even when I tried to write her letting it go. Sometimes characters and stories develop a mind of their own, and you have to follow their lead until it comes to its natural conclusion.
I know a lot of readers were annoyed by Lizzy’s unwillingness to just get with the program already and believe me- I was also annoyed! But I also felt that it was more accurate to her character, and I wasn’t going to sacrifice that for the sake of making readers a little less annoyed. Sometimes characters are gonna do stuff you don’t agree with. That can be interesting. And sometimes, the consequences of their stupidity or stubbornness can be all the more satisfying as a result!
Thankfully, before things could devolve into even more arguing, Simeon shows up and the boys quickly bounce. Sybil telling Simeon that it was a bird that broke the window is another pseudo-reference to the fact that Ciel, to me, is a phoenix. He’s the big bird lol.
Alois is of course enchanted by the idea of immortality- if anyone would be looking for a way to weasel out of having to give up their soul, it would be him. Claude, of course, has no intention of ever doing something like that. He’s anti-love and anti-fun in general, to be honest. What a buzzkill.
I’m not going to go too into detail about Hannah’s revelation about this weapon, as there are things about it that have yet to be revealed in the fic itself. I’ll leave that for later commentary blogs. Rest assured, this weapon is bad news.
In a comment on this chapter, someone pointed out that at the moment Alois and Claude are discussing mating bonds and such, Ciel and Sebastian are back at their hotel having emotional, life-affirming floor sex. The juxtaposition of those two images made me laugh. If this was a show, you could have a hard cut between Claude being like “Romance is dumb” BOOM Ciel and Sebastian fucking. It’s hilarious to me.
Anyway, this scene was so self-indulgent to me. Sometimes you just gotta write stupid mushy shit, okay? They’re so in love with each other *cries*
“How can you say such things?” he looked at Ciel mournfully. “How can it be that I’ve failed you so, that you believe these lies about yourself?” He reached up and pushed matted, wet strands of hair away from Ciel’s eyes. “You have proven time and time again to be my saviour and my solace. You are and always will be the very reason for my existence- the purpose for which I live and breathe- whether you are of any use to me or not.”
What’s that meme that’s like “Do you like soul mate AUs or do you just struggle with your self-worth and are obsessed with the idea that someone could love you no matter what”? It’s me. I have exposed myself.
I think Ciel likes pain, like, in a sex way- at some point, all the shit he went through must have crossed wires in his brain- but in this scene, it was more about his need to feel something, anything, to remind him that he and Sebastian were both alive, and real, and safe and together. And it affected him so deeply that his blue flames came back, even for a second!
I didn’t intend for Ciel’s powers to be a part of the story, but I realised early on that Ciel needed some kind of internal conflict to give him a character arc as well as the external conflict of solving murders etc. I’m excited to get into it properly in the final arc of the story.
Sebastian, a demon, reciting scripture will never not be amusing to me.
“And they shall take of the blood and strike it upon the two side posts and on the upper doorposts of the houses… for I will pass through the land of Egypt in the night, and I will smite all the firstborn, both man and beast.”
The passage he is quoting is from the Old Testament book of Exodus, paraphrasing verses from the twelfth chapter. It’s the command God gave to Moses for the Hebrew people, which led to what became the first Passover. The Hebrew people were in slavery in Egypt, and God sent the ten plagues of Egypt, and the final plague was that God passed over the land of Egypt, and every firstborn human and animal died, all in one night. This is what made Pharoah finally break down and let the Hebrews go.
The Hebrew people themselves were protected from the plague because they sacrificed a lamb and used its blood to mark their doors so God would know they were his people and not harm them when he passed over. Thus, the term “Passover”.
Sebastian, using his blood to mark the walls and keep them safe, found it a cheeky, fitting reference. And yet again, he STOLE something.
Cambion is indeed a term for a being who is half-demon, half-human. The term originates in European mythology and was originally used interchangeably with the word ‘changeling’, a mythological creature that replaced a human child, but later came to mean a demon-human hybrid. The most popular use of the term is the creature from Dungeons & Dragons, a humanoid creature with bat-like wings and horns and a devil’s tail.
Obviously, Sybil doesn’t have any of those physical attributes, but her demon heritage is what makes her capable of seeing the dead, as well as her intuitiveness and her ability to successfully perform rituals like the one that summoned Sebastian despite the fact that she’d never attempted anything like it before in her life. Witches in general are just humans with an affinity for the spiritual, but Sybil has heightened abilities that can only be attributed to her non-human genetics.
I ended this chapter on another sort-of cliffhanger- I hate writing normal endings to scenes, it always feels awkward, so I always end up doing this haha. I hope it doesn’t get too annoying or boring. Like right now, for instance, me not knowing how to end this blog post.
Okay, bye, see you all next time!
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The Matchmaker
ღ pairing: matchmaker!namjoon x f. reader
ღ genre: S2L, slight angst, fluff, {18+}
ღ summary: Kim Namjoon had a high success rate when it came to finding his client's perfect match, however, that all goes down the drain when he meets you.
ღ wc:19.2k
ღ warnings: ex!jin, best friend!yoongi, match!tae (drug dealer!tae), match!jimin (bookstore owner), match!hoseok, cursing, alcohol use/mention, mention of weed and allusions to (harder) drugs, discussions of bdsm, sex, contraception, Jimin is rude to the waiter 💔, ex high school bf!Yoongi turned BFF, mention of past anxiety and self-doubt regarding Namjoon’s matchmaking, oc’s mother means well but she’s nosy and pushes marriage, jealousy, allusions to depression, slightly overprotective!yoongi
ღ date: September 12, 2021
Everything had fallen into place for you; your career, your relationship with your family and friends, and your dream home but there was one thing you didn't have that you desired. Someone to share it with. You had been single for two years, your last relationship with your ex-boyfriend, Jin. Unfortunately, the breakup had been awful, but now you were ready to get back out there and settle down.
Friday night is for you to go out and see your family and friends, but tonight, you find yourself sitting on your couch in front of your TV while on the phone with your mother.
“All I’m saying is that your aunt called this matchmaker and now your cousin is married,” your mom states with an air of cockiness as you roll your eyes.
“I don’t think a matchmaker is going to help, mom. Besides, I go out plenty,” you sigh as you adjust the volume on the TV.
“I just don’t want you to be lonely anymore. As your mother, I worry about you…”
“Mom…”
“Let me give you his number,” your mom says as you hear her rustle around before saying ‘aha’ and asking if you’re listening. She rattles off the number, which you feign to write down before making up an excuse to end the call.
“I gotta get a date,” you grumble as you decide to go to bed early.
The next morning, you find a text from an unknown number waiting for you.
[Unknown]: Good morning, is this Y/n?
[You]: who is this?
[Unknown]: Kim Namjoon, your mother called me this morning requesting my services
Before you can reply, your phone is ringing and you’re groaning as you curse before answering, “hello?”
“Good morning! This is Namjoon, your mother requested my services.”
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time but I’m not interested, Mr. Kim.”
“I see, well, if you change your mind, let me know,” Namjoon wishes you a good day before hanging up. You shake your head before getting out of bed to get your day started.
“Your mom did what?” Yoongi chuckles as he falls back onto your bed, you shove him playfully as he continues to laugh, his beautiful smile on display.
“Yoongi!” you huff, as tears run down his cheeks.
“Let me know when you’re done.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes in between bouts of laughter as he sits up, clutching his stomach as you scowl at him.
You show him the texts, quickly relaying the conversation you had with your mother the previous night and your phone call with Namjoon this morning.
“Maybe it’s not a bad thing,” Yoongi’s tone is wary as you worry your lip between your teeth.
“Yoongi, are you serious?” your exasperated tone has him shrugging before sitting up.
“All I’m saying is that maybe you should consider it. Aren’t you ready to get back out there? I’m sure a matchmaker would be better than joining a dating site and sorting through guys who only want to hook up. You want something more serious, don’t you?”
You remain silent, knowing your best friend is right. You had confided in him that you were wanting a relationship again, something serious, something real. You didn’t want to join another dating site where you got dick pics before even a hello, you didn’t want a guy to take you out on a date, then feel entitled to your body. No, you definitely didn’t want any of that at all. Plus, your cousin was married; happily married and had been for the past three years. Maybe your mom was onto something by calling Namjoon? Maybe you could give him a chance and find the perfect match for you?
You look over at Yoongi, a hesitant smile on your lips. “Do you think I should?”
Yoongi doesn’t hesitate at all, your phone still in his hands as he hits call on Namjoon’s number, the line ringing as he hands it to you, “do it.”
The following Saturday, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Namjoon at a café near your home. You’re not sure what to expect but you hope you’re making the right decision as he walks in dressed in a navy blue suit with a black tie and black-rimmed glasses. He smiles warmly at you, his dimples becoming prominent as you rise from your seat and extend your hand out for him to shake. He does so, greeting you as he takes a seat and releases your hand. You take note of the expensive-looking watch sitting on his wrist as he pulls out a pen from his suit pocket, clicking it as he opens a small black binder and jots something down. You try to peer at it but a side-eyed look from him stops you, embarrassed at being caught.
“Interesting,” he murmurs as he jots something else down before shutting the binder and setting it on the table. The waitress comes over and the two of you order quickly before you’re jittering in your seat. Why did this feel like a job interview?
“I see you were punctual,” Namjoon comments as he raises a brow at you. “Are you always punctual or did you do it today because you were meeting me?”
Namjoon awaits your answer, leaning back in his chair, his large hand undoing the button of his jacket as he grabs his binder to place on his lap open and ready for him to take more notes.
“I’m always punctual.” You answer honestly, swallowing thickly as you twiddle your thumbs in your lap. You wonder if he’s criticizing the sundress you’ve worn, wondering if you should have dressed more moderately despite the blazing heat.
“I can’t stand the thought of being late. For anything.”
“I see,” he hums as his pen moves across the paper effortlessly, his glasses sliding down the slope of his nose slightly. Namjoon blinks once, his dark eyes boring into your soul, a brow raised as he studies you in absolute silence. He takes in your appearance, writing down details that he deems important before he takes in your attire, his head quirked as he sees a tattoo near your shoulder.
You feel small under his penetrating gaze, your mouth drying up immediately as you wonder what he’s writing about you. You thought better than to try to catch a second glimpse, not wanting to be chastised.
After what seems like hours, but is only a few minutes, you can’t stand the heat of his gaze any longer. You try your best not to squirm in your seat but you finally lose the battle, “are you done?”
Namjoon doesn’t say a thing! He continues to write, filling the page and turning it before he finally looks up from his binder, “why are you looking for a partner?”
His direct question startled you slightly, his intense eyes locked you in place, forbidding you from looking away. You had rehearsed your answer several times in the past week—you had even had Yoongi be a placeholder for Namjoon— but all your previous prepping went down the drain as you sat in front of the brown-haired man.
“Well?” He prods after a few moments of silence, your hands growing clammy.
You decide, to be honest, everything you had rehearsed was long forgotten.
“I want a partner, someone I can share my life with. I want someone who will be my best friend and my lover, someone who will support me and cherish me and allow me to grow as a person with them. I want to build a strong foundation that will, later on, lead to marriage and eventually a family. I’m not looking for perfection, I’m looking for something authentic, something that will last a lifetime.”
Namjoon nods, silently taking more notes as you see your waitress arrive with your food. You thank her as she sets your meal down in front of you, Namjoon doesn’t look up from his notes. The waitress blushes, taking a long look at the man sitting across from you before she excused herself with a bashful smile and a giggle.
You take a long look at your matchmaker, noting how attractive he is. His dimples aren’t as prominent as his expression remains serious, unreadable. You notice his jawline, his neck, his plush lips that have you wondering what it's like to kiss him. You blanch at the thought, shaking your head as you wait for him to speak.
“What’s your career?”
“I’m a teacher,” you answer but Namjoon already knows everything he needs to know about you. He's simply checking your honesty levels; your background check sits in the pocket of his binder.
“Do you want your partner to be a teacher as well?”
“No, but I’d like for him to be employed,” Namjoon nods, looking at the list of questions. His eyes scan them before he asks the next one.
“What are your hobbies? Do you want to share the same hobbies as your potential partner or different ones to broaden your horizons?”
“I’d like to share some hobbies, have something in common to break the ice. I write poetry, I like to dance, and long walks in the park or the beach. I like arts and crafts, sewing, going to concerts, enjoying the nightlife, and traveling the world. I’ve done a lot on my own, I’m ready to do it with someone now, Mr. Kim.”
“Namjoon, call me Namjoon.”
“Namjoon,” you repeat, nodding as you lick your lips, tasting your watermelon Chapstick.
“What would your ideal partner be like?” Namjoon asks as he waits for you to swallow the mouthful of food you’ve taken. You chew slowly, thinking of the mental checklist you had made earlier on your way to the café.
“I’d like someone ambitious, goal-oriented, and hardworking. Someone smart and funny, who doesn’t take things too seriously but they can if the matter requires it, ya know? I’d like someone who likes to read, spend time outdoors, isn’t afraid to try new things but is not too much of a risk-taker. I want someone caring, who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable with me. I want to be able to open myself up to them and have them do the same in return. I’d like someone who can balance me out, dumb right?”
“Nothing you want is dumb, Y/n. It is my job to find a match for you, whether they are perfect or not is up to you. Do not be afraid to ask for exactly what you want. I am here to help you find them. Place your trust in me.”
“I can do that,” you assure him as you take a sip of your lemonade. “What makes you so qualified to be a matchmaker anyway?”
“Well, for one, I’m a certified marriage counselor and sex therapist. I’ve been doing this for well over five years and have a 98% success rate. Plus, your mother said your cousin is still very much happily married and is expecting soon. I keep up with all my clients and have several testimonies that I would be more than happy to show you.”
You remain silent, knowing he’s won this round but you refuse to admit it. He knows he’s won you over, a microscopic amount but that’s enough to draw you in and by the smirk tugging at his lips. Sighing, you give in, waving your hand for him to continue. Namjoon winks, smirking fully, ignoring the way you roll your eyes at him but he remains un-phased.
“What are the things you don’t want in a partner?” Namjoon continues down his list, asking in-depth questions about your career, family, accomplishments, your friends, your home, your exes, and it’s not until he brings up sex that you spit out your drink, spluttering everywhere.
Namjoon exhales heavily, wiping his binder with a napkin, “I guess I should have waited for you to swallow.”
Your eyes widen as you gape at him, he’s oblivious as he blots at his binder before he finally looks up. He quirks his head, bemused until he replays his last sentence.
His face immediately heats up, flushed with embarrassment as he tugs at his tie. Sweat beads on his brow as he clears his throat, “I sincerely apologize for that.”
You nod, too flustered to speak as you look away.
“I just need to know what you’re into,” Namjoon explains how your preferences help determine your matches. If you prefer vanilla only, he wouldn’t pair you with someone who was strictly into BDSM and vice versa.
“Is this really necessary?” You ask as you look around the restaurant, hoping nobody can hear your conversation.
“We can delve into this further at your house? I need to see how you live,” he shrugs as he pushes his glasses up. You sigh, giving in as you ask for the check.
Namjoon pays for your meal, despite him not eating much of his. You protest but he shushed you and took more notes before he went to his car to follow you home.
“This a nice house,” he comments the second he steps inside, walking around your living room as he sees a wall covered in picture frames beside a bookcase. You stand awkwardly behind the couch, allowing your matchmaker to write down every detail of everything he sees. He can tell you’re family-oriented, friends being second importance as he sees various pictures of you with them, some from high school prom it seems.
Namjoon takes notice of every book on your bookshelf, smiling when he sees your extensive collection of Funko Pops.
“The Addams Family?” Namjoon chuckles as he turns to face you.
“Three Wednesday Addams,” you nod with a small smile, proud of your collection as you open the drawers of your entertainment system to show him your DVD collection. Namjoon recognizes plenty of titles, taking notes before you show him your kitchen.
“Have a seat,” he instructs as he opens your cabinets, looking into its contents. He’s pleasantly surprised to see that your pots and pans are organized, your baking sheets as well. Your counters and stove are clean, your pantry is organized and labeled and your fridge is fully stocked with equal amounts of healthy food and indulgent food.
“Do you cook?”
“Yes, as often as possible,” you answer him.
“Would you like a partner who cooks?”
“It’s not a must-have but sure. I enjoy cooking, but my partner doesn’t have to. They must know how to feed themselves though,” Namjoon takes note as he leans on the counter facing you.
“So… sex.”
“Namjoon,” you whine.
“It has to be done for compatibility. Trust me, I don’t like asking either but better I ask now rather than later when you’re married and can’t orgasm,” you realize he had a point and answer his questions ruefully.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“Namjoon!”
“If you can’t answer that, you’re not gonna like the rest of my questions,” he grins with a shake of his head.
You growl, “six months ago.”
“Have you been tested since? Any contraception?”
“Yes and yes.”
“All your answers are confidential, Y/n. Nobody but me will see these, so answer honestly,” Namjoon’s soft tone is reassuring as you try to answer honestly. You try not to get too flustered as all his questions become more and more obscene until he’s finally finished.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he chuckles as you lead him to your bedroom.
Namjoon takes note of your giant bed, the cleanliness of it, the framed pictures on the wall, and the band posters scattered around with ticket stubs to shows. He opens up your closet, noting how your wardrobe is organized by season, colors, and work clothes or clothes to go out on the town. He then moves on to your dresser, ignoring your protest as he opens the first drawer that holds your panties and bras.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he shrugs as he shuts it before moving to the next drawer. You watch on in silence as he explores your bedroom before going into your en-suite bathroom and having a look in there as well.
“Where’s your hamper?” Namjoon sees the pile of dirty clothes on the floor and looks at you with a raised brow.
“In the laundry room,” you answer sheepishly. Namjoon gives you a curt nod before he asks you to show him the rest of the house.
“Would your friend…” Namjoon trails off as he shuffles through a few sheets of paper. Scanning through the pages quickly before stopping, “Min Yoongi, be opposed to meeting with me for a chat? I’ve already met with your parents and I’d like to meet with your friends as well.”
“What for?” You ask, perplexed.
“I need to get more information about you.”
“You have information about me!”
“Yes but I need to hear from everyone who knows you. I’m a professional, Y/n. I gather information to give you a high chance of finding the right partner for you. I don’t do this to be nosy, I do this to produce stellar results. Everything that is discussed about you is 100% confidential, I promise.”
“Fine,” you relent, giving him Yoongi’s phone number as you walk him to the door.
“You’ll be hearing from me in a few days,” Namjoon waves as he walks down the driveway to his silver Hyundai. You watch him leave, your arms crossed over your chest as the light breeze ruffles your hair. What had you gotten yourself into?
True to his word, Namjoon calls you Wednesday evening to ask if you were free on Friday night to meet your first match.
You try to make up an excuse, any excuse, but your mother calls to remind you that she’s paying good money for Namjoon’s services, so you finally agree to meet your first match.
Namjoon texts you the details with a brief description of Taehyung, your first match. You forward the details to Yoongi, making sure your location is turned on as you get out of your car and stare up at the apartment building in front of you. You’re not entirely sure why you’re meeting here but you take in a deep breath and mutter, “you can do this” as you open the lobby door.
“Apartment 103,” you murmur as you pass by 101 and 102 before arriving at 103. You raise your fist to knock, hoping you’ve done it loud enough to be heard over the booming music coming from inside the apartment.
“Going,” they call back before the door opens and a pungent scent fills your nose, a cloud of smoke rising from the man you assume is Taehyung. He’s tall, his hair dark brown, shaggy with a slight curl, his large hand wrapped around the doorknob before he leans against the doorframe. He eyes you up and down, his dark eyes hazy as he raises a dark brow in question.
“Are you here to buy weed? You don’t look like the type who does more than that,” he chuckles as he checks you out once again, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. You scowl, taking a step back, “You’re Taehyung?”
“Yeah, who sent you?”
“Nobody. I have to go,” you turn, practically running down the hall and out the lobby door before Taehyung can even blink. He stares after you, shaking his head at the loss of a sale before he goes back into his apartment.
“Come on, come on!” you grit your teeth, sitting in your car as you start it before connecting your phone to the Bluetooth on your stereo. The line trills a few more times before you’re sent to voicemail.
“Kim Namjoon! You better answer your phone this instant! What the ever-loving fuck?! You set me up with a drug dealer?! Is this part of your 98% success rate?! Call me the fuck back!”
You hang up, steaming with anger as you pull out of the parking spot to drive home. Halfway home, you receive a phone call that you quickly answer.
“Namjoon! How dare you? You set me up with a drug dealer!”
“I-what? That’s impossible! I run background checks on all my clients. Are you sure it was Taehyung?”
“Of course I’m sure,” you scoff as you grip the steering wheel tighter before stopping at a red light. You try to inhale and exhale slowly before continuing. “He was tall, had dark brown hair and a smiley piercing.”
“He didn't have a piercing last time I saw him, are you sure?”
“He answered to his name. Namjoon, I trusted you,” you groan as the light changes to green and you pull into your neighborhood.
Namjoon is silent, feeling bad about setting you up with Taehyung. He had seen him about two months ago and even though he had run a background check and looked profusely into him, he had no idea about Taehyung selling drugs, especially since it had been a big deal-breaker for you. He had to fix this, he had to make this right. He wouldn’t fail you, not when you had trusted him to do his job. He’d find you the perfect man, he swore it to himself.
Namjoon is gobsmacked, “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m truly sorry! I swear I didn’t know he was doing that. I talked to him two months ago to make sure he still wanted to be matched but I don’t know where the drug dealing came from. I will be taking him off my client list permanently. Your next match will be thoroughly vetted, and I will do a personal, surprise home visit to ensure your safety.”
“I don’t know if I want to try this again, Joon. Once was bad enough,” you get out of your car, placing your phone on speaker as you unlock the front door.
“Please, let me make this right. I owe that to you,” Namjoon pleads, his heart racing in his chest as he’s met with absolute silence.
“You’ll pick someone better? Do a thorough check on them, a new one?” You ask as you plop down on your couch, your eyes landing on the clock on your wall. It was still early enough, maybe you could go over to Yoongi’s to hang out or go for a late dinner. Your stomach growls at that moment.
“Yes, yes! I’ll do better. I’ll be in touch soon,” Namjoon assures you before he wishes you a good night, apologizing one last time before he hangs up. You sigh, wondering what trouble you’ve signed yourself up for.
Your phone rings. Yoongi’s face appears on your screen before you answer with a smile, your Friday night had just been salvaged.
When Namjoon contacts you once again, he gives you a more in-depth background of your next date, Jimin. You read through his email, biting your lower lip as you contemplate going on the date. Namjoon texts you seconds later.
[Namjoon]: Give him a chance, I met with him yesterday and he’s not a drug dealer. You’ll be meeting at London’s on Main St. at 8 pm. I’ll be on call if you need me. He’ll be wearing a gray coat and a black beret.
[You]: I don’t know, Joon.
[Namjoon]: Give me one more chance to make it right.
You sigh, rereading his text as you read the short paragraph about Jimin.
[You]: Fine.
*
If it were possible, you were more nervous about this date than the first. You immediately felt better to be meeting at a restaurant instead of someone’s apartment, and as you stepped inside, you began scanning the immediate area for Jimin.
You spotted him at a table, his phone in his hands as he looked up and caught your gaze. He smiled brightly, his eyes turning into half-moons as he raised his hand to wave at you. You relaxed, grinning as you crossed the floor to meet him. He stood as you arrived at the table, helping you into your seat before he took his seat.
“Y/N?”
“Yes, Jimin?” He nodded, immediately asking how your day was. You answered him, appreciating the way he could start a conversation and keep it going. He made it seem effortless but you knew it was something you still struggled with so you appreciated the effort he was putting in.
Jimin seemed normal enough, you thought as you eyed him. He removed his hat and his golden locks fell freely, his hand running through them; possibly a nervous habit. He smirked, catching you looking at him longer than necessary.
“Have you been here before?” he asked as the waiter arrived to take your drink orders and asked if he could get you anything else.
You gave him your order before Jimin, smiling slightly as the waiter wrote it down and went on his way.
“This is my first time here,” you answer Jimin as you look around the restaurant. It’s dimly lit to create a more romantic ambiance and you wonder if Jimin chose the place or if it was Namjoon. How much had Namjoon been involved in your date?
“Same here, I usually see it on my way to work,” Jimin states as he looks over your shoulder, eyeing the bar and the bartender behind it.
“Where do you work?”
“I own the bookstore on 5th and Main,” Jimin responds as he sees the waiter coming with your drinks. You welcome the interruption, wondering what else you could ask him. You didn’t know much about him like you would someone you met online, and at the moment, you wished you had met him online.
The waiter approaches the table but slips before he reaches you, spilling your drinks on the floor. Jimin jumps in his seat, eyes wide as the cold drinks splash his pants.
“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rises from his seat, the waiter immediately begins apologizing but Jimin won’t hear any of it. He yells at the waiter, calls him names as he storms off to the bathroom. You’ve gained the attention of every patron in the building, some of the workers peeking from the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize to the waiter, taking money out of your purse to pay for the drinks and tipping him. The waiter protests but you shake your head, “please.”
The waiter nods, “Thank you.”
“Don’t listen to him. He shouldn’t have treated you like that. It was an accident,” You say as you take your leave before Jimin can come back. You get in your car and immediately drive off, not bothering to wait for your phone to connect to your Bluetooth.
When you arrive home, you get out of your car before storming inside your home. You kick your shoes off before dialing Namjoon’s phone number, placing it on speaker as you take your dress off, allowing it to pool at your feet.
“Y/N, don’t tell me he sells drugs too? I sat outside his house all week and nobody unusual came to his house,” Namjoon says as he answers the call.
“No, Joon. That’s not the-wait, you sat outside his house for a week?” You ask as you grab your phone on your way to your bedroom to throw on your pajamas.
“No?” Joon tried to backpedal but you were already grinning like a madman.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d vet this date better, huh? I gotta say, wasn’t expecting you to do some stalking,” you mused as you got into bed, your phone in your hands.
“I wasn’t stalking him, Y/N. I was gathering information. Anyway, that’s beside the point. It’s only 7:40, why are you already calling me?”
"You set me up on another bad date, Joon!"
"How? Jimin was perfect! What could have gone wrong?" Namjoon was genuinely puzzled as he walked over to his desk, taking a seat on his plush leather chair. He rolled his chair forward, Jimin's file laid on the solid cherry wood. Namjoon grabbed his glasses off the desk to put them on before picking up Jimin's file.
"He wasn't perfect, Namjoon," you scoff as you roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling.
"Park Jimin, 26 years old, owns and works at his own bookstore, graduated from a 4-year university where he majored in literature. Owns his own home, has traveled around the world, and does not sell drugs."
"You seem to only be focusing on the not selling drugs part, and while I do appreciate it, that's not why I left the date early," You begin to explain. Namjoon hums in response, waiting for you to continue.
"Tell me, Joonie-"
"Joonie?"
"Yes, Joonie. Did you ever sit down and have a chat with Jimin?"
"What?" Namjoon is genuinely confused as he sets his file back down on the desk, spinning in his chair with his phone pressed tightly to his ear. "Of course I did! The same interview you had, I had with him and Taehyung. I admit, Taehyung slipped through the cracks somehow but how could Jimin? He's an angel and not just because of his ethereal looks."
"Joon," you sigh heavily, not wanting to burst his bubble.
"Yes?"
"Oh, Joon. Joonie, Joonie, Joon, my sweet boy."
"What?" Namjoon huffs as he waits for you to finally say something, anything.
"Jimin is rude as fuck. He yelled at the waiter who spilled our drinks on accident. Some landed on him and he stormed off to the bathroom, so I took the opportunity to dip," you explain.
"Jimin? My Jimin did that?" Namjoon can hardly believe what you've just told him. There was no way Jimin could have done that, there had to be some sort of mistake, right? Namjoon had known Jimin for a few months now, he had even hung out with him on a few occasions while he tried to find a match for him. Jimin had been anything but rude, so Namjoon was having a hard time believing he had yelled at someone, especially over an accident.
"Your Jimin? Something you wanna tell me?"
"Oh hush," Namjoon grunts as he shuts Jimin's file. He would have to take your word for it at this point. You hadn't given a reason for him to doubt you, and he trusted you to be honest with him. Besides, this would explain why Jimin was still available after setting him up on multiple dates with multiple potential partners. This was, however, the first time someone had mentioned the date failing over him yelling at a waiter. Namjoon wrote a reminder in his planner to contact everyone he had set up with Jimin and ask about his behavior and why they had chosen not to pursue him further.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. It looks like I have failed you once again. Don't worry, I won't be charging you for my services. I'll call your mother in the morning and apologize for wasting both of your time."
"Namjoon, that's not necessary. Just set me up with someone else. Preferably someone who is genuinely polite to everyone. I can't stand rude people at all, much less those who yell and make a scene," you say, wincing as you remember Jimin's face as he yelled and cursed.
You made a mental note not to ever visit his bookstore.
"Are you sure?" Namjoon seemed hesitant to set you up once again, he usually got it right the first time. He wasn't going to lie, he was feeling discouraged about failing twice, this hadn't happened since his first year when he had been overeager to make matches that he often made mistakes. He knew better after years of practice, so he was apprehensive about trying once again.
"I trust you. Trial and error, right? I mean, if I couldn't find my perfect match on my own on my first go, then I don't expect you to either, despite your experience. It's a process, isn't it?"
Namjoon knew you were right but it was because he had experience that he felt like a failure.
"All right," Namjoon acquiesced, he sighed deeply as he placed his chin in his hand, his fingers drumming on it. "Let's give it another go. I'll be in touch but it may be a while longer before I reach out. I want to make sure I get it right this time."
"Take your time, Joon. I'm rooting for you," you smile as you sit up in bed, suddenly not wanting to hang up.
"I will, I promise. Try to get some rest," he tells you, you ruefully agree, wishing him goodnight and hanging up. You immediately fell back into your pillows, arms spread on the bed, you already missed the sound of his voice.
Namjoon placed his elbows on the desk, his head falling into his hands before he rubbed his eyes, groaning at the feeling.
"Get your shit together, Joon."
When nearly three weeks pass, you begin to worry about your matchmaker. He hadn't contacted you at all and you wondered if it was a bad sign? Were you completely incompatible with all his clients? Or worse, what if something had happened to him and you had no idea? Surely, someone would call, right?
You paced back and forth in your living room while Yoongi tried to catch glimpses of the TV behind you, where you had put on Parasite and he was actually trying to watch it.
"Just text him," Yoongi told you for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.
"I don't wanna bother him," you protested, dodging the couch cushion that he threw at you instead of telling you to move once again.
"Then sit down and let me watch this, Y/N. I've been wanting to watch this for ages, and I've missed the first ten minutes. I need to restart it now," Yoongi huffed as he restarted the movie and placed his feet on the coffee table so you wouldn't be able to walk in front of him anymore.
"Should I text him? What would you do if you were me?" You ask your frustrated best friend, who responds by turning up the volume.
"Text him before I take your phone and do it myself. Didn't you say your next match would take longer? Let him do his job. After Jimin, I'd let him take months if he had to."
"Yeah," you said in a defeated tone, finally sitting down beside Yoongi, grabbing the cushion he had tossed at you and placing it in your lap to hug to your chest. You stared at your phone, tapping it to keep it from going dark.
"I can do this. I can do this," you repeat as you try to hype yourself up, tapping on your thread with Namjoon. You're not sure why you suddenly feel squeamish, almost like butterflies have invaded your stomach.
Yoongi rolls his eyes but is glad you've finally decided to text Namjoon and get some answers.
Your fingers hover over the keys, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you inhale profoundly through your nose. You quickly type a message, hitting send before you can freak yourself out.
Yoongi leans over, his head resting on your shoulder, he tries to cough to cover up a laugh but fails miserably.
"All that for 'hey'?"
"Yoongi!" You pull your phone to your chest, hiding it from your nosy best friend.
"What? I was curious," he shrugs as he turns his eyes back to the screen, becoming captivated by the movie and no longer interested in your predicament.
Your phone vibrates a minute later, you open it embarrassingly fast,
[Namjoon]: Hey, sorry for not reaching out sooner. I've been working on finding your next date on top of my other caseloads but I've narrowed it down to three possible candidates.
[You]: That's great!
Yoongi peeks at your phone and chortles.
You poke him in the side, "watch your movie."
[Namjoon]: Yes, I've arranged for you to meet next Saturday night at the Lunar Bar on 10th Street at 8 pm.
[You]: Thank you, Joonie! I'll be there!
Namjoon doesn't reply after that, instead, he takes a closer look at Hoseok's file, reviewing it once again. Nothing changes from this inspection but Namjoon feels confident in his choice. The both of you have a lot in common. From careers to hobbies, to goals, and even an interest in music.
Namjoon was growing desperate for a winner, especially since he had helped out his other clients rather quickly, some had only gone on one date before they thanked him for setting them up with their perfect match.
"Focus," he told himself as he looked from Hoseok's file to yours and back again. He had highlighted all similarities, underlined anything that may cause the two of you to clash.
"I've got it this time, I know I do," Namjoon stated confidently, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shut both files.
Saturday comes quicker than expected, you spend the whole day trying to pick an outfit. First date jitters invade your body as the clock ticks down faster to 8 pm.
Yoongi has come and gone, wishing you luck as he dropped you off at the entrance with a hug before sending you off.
"Call me if you need a ride!" He calls after you, you give him a thumbs-up before walking into the building.
"Black leather jacket, red rose," you chant softly as you look around the bar. The music is rather loud and dimly lit as you make your way through the high tables and finally spot a leather jacket. A man is sitting at the end of the bar, his hands twirling the stem of a red rose. You notice the way his leg bounces up and down, no doubt out of nervousness,
Your breath gets caught in your throat, his side profile is gorgeous. The slope of his nose, his high cheekbones, and as he turns in your direction, you notice his heart-shaped lips right before they lift in a dazzling smile that has your heart skyrocketing.
"Y/N," he says your name in a sultry way that sends tingles down your spine.
"Wow," you breathe as he rises from his seat with a chuckle.
"I can say the same about you," Hoseok smiles flirtatiously, your cheeks blooming with heat as he helps you onto a seat.
"It's nice to meet you," you smile, thanking him as he hands you the rose.
"It's nice to meet you as well; you're gorgeous." You thank him for the compliment as the bartender approaches you, asking Hoseok if he'd like a refill. He nods, thanking the bartender before she takes your drink order.
You note that he was polite, already feeling at ease and grateful that Namjoon had made sure Hoseok wasn't rude to the bartender. You'd still keep an eye on him though; you didn't want to fall into a false sense of security around him and then have him snap.
"Do you wanna have a seat over there?" Hoseok asks as the bartender returns with your drinks.
You look over your shoulder, noticing how much louder the tables seemed to be. It seemed more intimate to stay at the bar and be able to hear each other, so you tell him so. Hoseok agrees, moving closer to you as he asks you about your work, giving you his undivided attention.
He makes you nervous, whether, in a good way or bad, you're not entirely sure at the moment. You stir your drink with your straw, giggling at something he's said as you look at him through your peripheral.
Hoseok is at ease, legs slightly spread as he leans in closer with the pretense of hearing you better, but in all honesty, he finds himself wanting to be nearer.
*
"So then Yoongi bursts in to see me crying on the floor, covered in flour with the fire alarm blaring," you shake your head as a giggle escapes you. Hoseok chuckles as he nods along, swirling his drink in his cup before chugging it and asking for another.
"Do you hang out with Yoongi often?" Hoseok asks as he orders another drink, the bartender bringing it immediately.
"Pretty often, we've been friends since freshman year in high school. Do you have any friends from high school?" You take a sip of your drink, wondering what else you could possibly talk about.
"Just one," Hoseok starts, sipping his drink. "His name is Taehyung."
You freeze, eyes widening as you look at him, "Taehyung? He doesn't happen to live on Wayver Avenue?"
"Yeah!" Hoseok beams. "You know him?"
"Yeah," you force a smile, swirling your drink. "I met him once, briefly."
“I haven’t seen him much lately, he got into some stuff he shouldn’t have,” Hoseok looks away, sipping his drink before turning to face you once again. “He’s actually the one who introduced me to Namjoon.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it was before Taehyung started… Anyway, he always talked about meeting his soulmate but after dating around, he didn’t feel like he could, so he hired Namjoon. I figured if he trusted Namjoon, I should as well. This is actually the first date Namjoon has set me up on.”
You’re not sure how to react to his admission, you go to grab your drink but out of nervousness you end up spilling it. Your drink ends up on your shoes and Hoseok’s jeans.
“Fuck,” you groan as you set the glass upright, shoving the ice back into it before looking at Hoseok. You hope he won’t yell at you as Jimin did at the waiter, your heart sinks at the thought and you bristle as you meet Hoseok’s gaze.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, taking your napkin and handing it to him. He chuckles, shaking his head, “it’s not the first time I’ve had a drink spilled on me at a bar. Don’t worry about it.”
He takes the napkin from you and gets out of his seat, squatting in front of you. You look at him perplexed, your head quirked to the side as you wonder what he’s doing.
“May I?” he asks, pointing at the droplets of the alcohol on your shoes. You nod, your face flushing with heat as he cautiously dabs at your shoes. You remain silent as he takes a hold of your ankle, bringing it onto his thigh to clean up any of the remainders of your drink before he grins up at you and sets the napkin on another before calling the bartender over.
“Thank you,” you clear your throat awkwardly, finding it hard to meet his eyes.
Hoseok steps closer to you, his subtle cologne making you inhale softly; you decide you like his scent.
“Hey,” his voice is soft, his fingers placed under your chin to make you look up at him. His warm smile has your heart racing, his dark eyes show no anger and you feel yourself relax. He wasn’t upset.
“Let me close my tab and we can walk on the town square,” he suggests and you nod, offering to pay but he shakes his head as he quickly closes the tab and helps you out of your seat. You’ve had a bit to drink but only enough to be slightly tipsy and almost fully coherent as you allow Hoseok to place his large hand on the small of your back as he leads you out of the building.
The two of you walk side by side, passing the other bars and restaurants as you walk toward the town square, where a large fountain sits, circled by stone benches. The square has multiple businesses surrounding it, families and other couples walking about as they enjoy their night.
The two of you find a bench to sit at, quickly falling into a conversation about your work life and his. You find that you enjoy listening to him talk, you enjoy the way his eyes light up when he talks about his friends, and how he laughs when he tells you about his first date that turned out to be a disaster.
By the time Yoongi is picking you up, you find that you quite like Hoseok, and would like to see him again. Yoongi is glad to hear about your date, he had been worried it would turn out badly like the first two, and although he may still be wary of Namjoon and his matchmaking skills, the smile on your face has him coming around to it all.
Namjoon touches base with you the following morning, seeing as he hadn’t gotten a call last night from you, he was a tad worried.
[Namjoon]: Good morning! Can I assume Hoseok was normal?
[You]: Good morning, Joon! Yes, you can safely assume Hoseok was normal. Rather pleasant, although I did spill my drink on him
[Namjoon]: Yikes! How did that go?
[You]: he laughed it off, thank goodness. I was worried he’d make a scene like Jimin did but no, all was well and we went to the town square after.
Namjoon sits back in his chair, his phone on his desk, ringing as he waits for Hoseok to answer. He’s not sure what to expect, but he had high hopes that this match could actually move forward after your input.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Hoseok. I’m just calling to check in. Is now a good time for you?” Namjoon asked as he picked up a pen, Hoseok’s file open in front of him. His messy scrawl already marked the page from before, now he was looking to add a few more notes.
“Yeah, I’m free. What’s up?”
“How did the date go?” Namjoon inquired, biting his bottom lip out of nervousness.
Hoseok sighed heavily, he sat on the floor of his office’s gym, glad nobody had joined him for a workout. Namjoon had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“It was…fine."
“Fine?” Namjoon repeated, taking note of the tone Hoseok had used. “Just fine?”
“I mean, she was cute and everything but I just didn’t feel like it could lead anywhere. Plus, she knew Tae, and… he’s been up to some stuff I’m not into lately, ya know? How else would she know him? You didn’t tell me she did drugs, Namjoon. Was that an oversight on your part?” Hoseok was genuinely curious as he began stretching, figuring his workout was as good as over.
“Hoseok,” Namjoon groaned. This was a mess. “I set her up with Taehyung, but I swear I didn’t know he was selling drugs. I found out after,” Namjoon explained and Hoseok hummed in response.
“So you thought he was a better match for her?”
“At first, yes. She’s not into Taehyung’s new scene if that’s what you’re worried about. She had a good time,” Namjoon supplies, in hopes Hoseok will change his mind in regards to your date.
“That’s good to know at least,” Hoseok dismissed as he moved onto a different stretch, putting his call on speaker.
“That doesn’t change how you feel about her, does it?” Namjoon rubbed his large palm over his face. When did his job get so complicated? He had such an amazing streak going, making perfect couples and then you came along and he was thrown out of orbit. What was he doing wrong?
“No, man.” Hoseok sighed, he was never good with rejection but at least he didn’t have to say it to your face, that would be Namjoon’s job.“She’s a sweet girl, funny, smart, all that and that’s great but I just didn’t think we really had a connection.”
“I understand,” Namjoon murmured.
“I genuinely hope she finds her match and I hope to find mine as well. Keep in touch, Namjoon.” With that, Hoseok ended the call. Namjoon cursed, setting his phone carelessly on the desk as his head fell into the palm of his hands.
He had been sure about Hoseok and now he had to tell you it was a no-go once again. Three. Three matches that had gone to hell for him and now he wasn’t sure what to do. Well, he did know what to do but he wanted to delay it as long as possible. Would it be better for him to call you or meet up to let you know face-to-face? Namjoon wasn’t sure, he couldn’t understand why he was having a hard time with this. It wasn't his first time doing this, so why was he nervous?
[Namjoon]: Can I see you tonight?
[You]: You can come by at 7. Is something wrong?
[Namjoon]: I’ll see you then.
You wonder what Namjoon has to see you about that he can't just say through text before realizing it probably had to do with your date with Hoseok the night before. You sigh, shaking your head before getting into the shower to try and clear your head.
You spend the rest of the day cleaning your home while texting Yoongi until Namjoon shows up at 7 o’clock on the dot. You greet him as you let him in, offering him a drink that he declines. You lead him to your kitchen table, sitting across from him.
“I need to talk to you about last night,” Namjoon starts and you sigh heavily.
“Hoseok doesn’t want to see me again?”
“I... you’re right.”
“I knew it,” you sigh before pouting. “I thought it had gone well.”
“These things happen…” Namjoon avoids meeting your gaze as he rubs his sweaty palms on his pants before biting his lip. “How about you and I go out tonight?”
“On a date?” your brows furrowed in confusion.
Namjoon’s eyes widened, “No! I meant like out to see where your interests lie. If I can get to know you on a more personal level, I can find your perfect match. It’ll be better than going off on the info sheet your mom gave me.”
You bite your lip. Namjoon waits patiently for your answer and after a silent debate, you give in.
“Fine, fine.”
“Great, I’ll call you later tonight and we’ll set something up. You won’t regret this!” Namjoon states with enthusiasm. You nod, hoping he’s right.
“I don’t know about this, Joon.” You look apprehensive as you get strapped into your vest.
“Trust me, okay? You’ll have fun, and if you don’t, then it’ll help my portfolio.” Namjoon smiles and you give in when you see his dimples appear.
Namjoon puts on his vest before you grab a laser gun and follow him inside.
“Stay close,” he calls over his shoulder. You try to but once he goes inside, a crowd of kids gets between you and you lose him.
You try your best to look for him but when the countdown starts, you panic and run up the incline to the second floor, where you hide in hopes of not being eliminated off the bat.
Your hiding spot works well for a minute or so before a child spots you and shoots you. Your vest lights up and you huff in annoyance before shooting the kid back, which causes him to break out in tears.
“I guess I should take off ‘loves children’ from your portfolio?” Your eyes widen at hearing Namjoon’s voice from beside you.
You look at the sobbing child, smiling at Namjoon, “he shot me first.”
Namjoon chuckles before he takes your hand in his after the child runs off.
“Come on, I’m not about to lose you again,” he says as he holds your hand throughout the layout, having you watch his back as the two of you eliminate as many players as possible before your time is up.
The last 60 seconds are on the clock and Namjoon spots the crying child has come back for you, only this time, he’s got his big brother with him.
Namjoon presses you against the wall. You gasp, eyes wide as your eyes lock. Namjoon’s chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing, as does yours as you look at his lips then his eyes.
Namjoon subconsciously licks his lips, tilting his head slightly, his fingers lacing with yours as he looks at your lips. Your stomach bubbles with anticipation, your heart beating furiously in your chest as you await his kiss.
Just as Namjoon leans in, and you wait for the press of his lips, he gets shot by that child. The sound startled the both of you, making you laugh awkwardly as Namjoon curses. He shoots the child again just as the timer goes off.
“Come on,” he says as the lights turn on and you follow him out. You’re not sure what that was back on the floor but you feel disappointed that your kiss didn’t happen.
“What was your nickname?” Namjoon asks as he looks up at the scoreboard.
“-heaven.” You murmur. Namjoon looks at you, a brow raised. “What?”
You huff, embarrassed. “Amatchmadeinheaven”
Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head.
“Well, what's yours?” You roll your eyes at him and he grins widely, winking at you. Your heart flutters in your chest.
“Right there,” he points and you look to see that he’s somehow placed in the top three. His nickname: Cupid.
“Very original,” you giggle as he laughs with you, helping you out of your vest before he gets out of his. He doesn’t hesitate to take your hand before leading you to another section of the gaming area.
“Bowling?” You ask flabbergasted as Namjoon hands you a pair of shoes that happen to be your size.
When Namjoon sees your questioning stare, he merely shrugs and says, “portfolio.”
“Is there anything my mother didn’t tell you?” You wonder as you sit beside him to take your shoes off.
“She doesn’t know how many people you’ve slept with. She thinks you’re a virgin actually,” Namjoon chuckles. You can feel heat rise to your face.
“She does not!” You cry out in protest and Namjoon laughs harder, tears running down his cheeks.
He takes a few moments to collect himself, “she totally does.”
“Joon!”
“Talk with her,” he suggests as he gets down on one knee in front of you. He takes your foot in his hand and helps you put on your bowling shoes.
“Do you have a foot fetish I should know about?” Namjoon asks and you rip your foot out of his hands.
“No! Do you?” You shriek, he laughs again.
“No, now give me your foot so I can tie your shoes and I can beat you.”
“You’re too confident for someone who’s about to lose,” you remark as you lift your other foot for him to put your shoe on. Namjoon rolls his eyes, tying your shoes extra tight in retaliation. When you whine, he loosens it up.
“Show me what you’ve got then,” he stands to lead you to your lane. You quickly type in your name before typing in Cupid for Joon.
“Smartass,” he mumbles under his breath.
“I’ll go first,” you say as you grab a bowling ball and step up onto the lanes. You inhale before stepping forward, shutting your eyes as you move the ball back and then forward before releasing it. You open your eyes and with bated breath, you watch the ball roll down the lane halfway before it goes into the gutter.
“That sucked,” Joon states as you walk back toward him and shove him before grabbing another ball and taking your second turn.
You manage to knock down half the pins this time, and you make sure to stick your tongue out at Joon.
When it’s Namjoon’s turn, he steps right up with his ball and doesn’t hesitate to toss it. It hits all the pins in a strike.
“Show off,” you grumble.
Namjoon winks at you before he takes a seat beside you. You’re up next.
You’re not sure what it is, but your next three turns end with gutter balls throughout and you’re stewing in your seat.
“Want me to tell them to put the rails up?” Namjoon teases as he hits another strike.
“Fuck you,” you huff. “How’d you get so good?”
“I played in a league as a teen,” Namjoon explains.
“Cheater,” you grin, poking his dimple. He laughs. “How is that cheating?”
“You’ve had years of training that led up to this moment!”
Namjoon guffaws, looking at you incredulously, “so I played for years and won national championships throughout my life just to be here in this very moment to beat you?”
“Duh,” you stick your tongue out at him. Namjoon scoffs, rolling his eyes before you get up from your seat and grab a ball.
You gasp when you feel him behind you, his left arm wrapped around your waist and his other guiding your right hand before you release the ball. You wonder if he can feel the frantic beating of your heart as his taut chest presses against your back.
Namjoon watches the ball roll until it hits the pins, all of them falling except for one that’s spinning. With bated breath, you both watch as the bowling pin falls and you scream in excitement, startling the other players.
“I did it!”
“You did,” he chuckles as you watch the scoreboard change to STRIKE. You jump up and down before wrapping your arms around Namjoon and hugging him tightly.
“How about you try it again on your next turn?” Namjoon asks as he steps up, his eyes focused on the pins as he lets the ball go, watching it roll and roll until the pins clatter on the wood.
“I’ll try my best.” You pick up a purple ball and hold it in your hands, inhaling and exhaling. “Here goes nothing.”
Namjoon gives you a thumbs up when you look at him before releasing the ball. You bite your lip waiting for it to roll slowly down the lane until it falls into the gutter. You curse, pouting and huffing when you hear someone shout, “We love a gutter queen!”
You frown, running to Namjoon, who is now standing. He’s surprised when your body slams into his, your arms around his waist, and your face buried in his chest.
He can feel the heat of your body through his mustard-colored sweater and his cheeks bloomed with heat. He rubs your back, whispering that it’s okay and you did your best.
“I’m a Gutter Queen,” you huff angrily, holding him tighter. He chuckles, the rumbling of his chest has you whining further as embarrassment sets in.
“So I heard,” you can practically hear the smirk on his lips, so you slide your hand under his sweater, not hearing his soft gasp before you pinch his side.
“Ow!” He yelps, stepping back. You stick your tongue out at him, quickly stepping out of his hold before he can retaliate.
“Your turn.”
*
Two hours and several rematches later, you and Namjoon sit on a bench in the town square inside a beautiful gazebo that overlooks the lake. You’ve both got ice cream cones with your favorites as you finally take a moment to relax.
“Are you always this competitive? Or did I get to see a special side of you?” Namjoon questions you, genuinely intrigued.
“I’m not competitive,” you state as you lick your ice cream.
“We played six games in a row because you couldn’t stand to lose,” Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head. “And you still lost!”
“Hey! You said you weren’t going to rub it in!”
“Haha… I’m sorry. You’re right.”
“Anyway… what made you want to become a matchmaker?” Namjoon freezes at your question. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“I guess I just wanted to help people find their match.” he shrugs. “I was a counselor for a while and saw so many couples calling it quits and I know it wasn’t my fault. Some issues just can’t be solved, even with counseling.” You nod, biting your ice cream and making Namjoon cringe.
“Don’t judge me!”
He laughs.
“I got tired of seeing relationships end, of couples not being compatible but being married regardless. Some married for money, others for looks, some for sex, and some for all of the above. I wanted to build couples that would last for the long run. I became obsessed with it once I got a high success rate…” Namjoon licks his melting ice cream, biting the cone.
“I lost myself in my success until you came along and brought me back down to Earth. I’m not as high and mighty as I thought.”
“You tried your best,” you shrug as you continue to eat your ice cream.
“I wouldn’t call it my best…” Namjoon bites his lip. “I just wanted to find someone for you. I thought it would be easy but you showed me that I can make mistakes. I want to fix them… I do, but your mother has given me a timeline.”
“What?”
“She wants you married in six weeks.” He nods, recoiling when you glare at him.
“Married?!?!”
“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Namjoon sighs heavily, rubbing his palms over his face. Maybe he should have met with you and your mother instead of assuming you knew about your mother's plans.
“Joon! My mother expects me to be married at the end of this?” Your voice has gone up an octave or two but you don’t care as you sit down. You place your hand on your chest, feeling the rapid thump of your heart.
“Look, you don’t have to get married…”
“I’m not! I’m most definitely not!”
“I’m sure your mother would be content with you meeting someone but she did tell me she wanted you married.”
“I need to go home,” you state as you take his hand in yours and tug him in the direction of his car.
When he pulls into your driveway, you thank him for your night out and the ride home. You squeeze his hand, leaning over the center console to kiss his cheek before getting out of his car.
You’re too enraged at your mother, dialing her number the moment you’re on your porch, you don’t notice Namjoon placing his hand over your kiss, blushing as he hopes the fluttering in his chest will cease as he pulls out of the driveway.
After a lengthy conversation with your mother, you feel slightly more at ease. She’s agreed to put marriage on the back burner for now but shall you get proposed to, she’ll want you to say yes if you even have a crush on the man.
[Joon-bug 💘]: Hey, everything okay?
[You]: Yeah. Just had a chat with my mother
[You]: Thank you for last night…. I had a lot of fun
[Joon-bug 💘]: No need to thank me, I’m glad you had fun. I know you’re probably still in shock of last night’s revelations
[Joon-bug 💘]: But I was hoping I could take you out Friday night?
You squeal with excitement, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you throw yourself on your bed with your phone clutched in your hands.
[You]: Sure! That sounds fun
[Joon-bug 💘]: Great! I’ll text you Friday
You smile as you read his last text before setting your phone aside. Yoongi raises a brow as he lays beside you in your bed.
“Joonie?” He asks as he looks over your shoulder with a smirk. You poke his chest, “He’s taking me out on Friday. He wants to learn more about me so he can find my perfect match.”
“So you’re dating your matchmaker?”
“No! He’s just getting to know me…” you trail off, rolling over on your side to face your best friend. He grins, pushing your hair out of your eyes before caressing your cheek.
“It’s okay to fall for someone, Y/n. Whether it’s your perfect match or your matchmaker. You don’t have to close yourself off again.” You swallowed thickly, pushing back the tears that well in your eyes.
In a tiny, barely audible voice you say, “I know.”
Yoongi sighs, pulling you into his arms. You curl up into his side, your hand resting on his chest as you feel the thumping of his heart. He wonders if you ever think about your relationship, and how maybe it could have been more than it was in high school. Did you ever think of him as more than a friend? Or were all those feelings gone? He wasn’t sure. All he was sure of though, was that he wouldn’t stand in your way of finding true happiness and love, because if anyone deserved it, it was you.
“Let’s take a nap, sweet girl. We can watch a movie after,” you nod as you pull your blanket over the both of you, closing your eyes until you’re fast asleep.
“Where are we going Joon Bug?” You ask as you try to keep up with Namjoon.
“You’ll see!” Namjoon says as he takes your hand in his to lead you past a crowd of people on the sidewalk, unbothered by his new nickname. You’re not sure where he’s taking you but you were excited to find out.
Namjoon picked you up thirty minutes ago and now you were ducking and diving in between pedestrians as he led you to an unknown location. Now you were wondering if wearing heels was the right choice. It wasn’t. If parking wasn’t so terrible, maybe you’d have been fine but it was Friday night and everyone was out and about, so you just had to deal with it.
“We’re here,” Namjoon says as he comes to a stop in front of a gigantic building that has a sign above the front door that reads ‘Helios’.
“Come on,” Namjoon squeezes your hand as he walks up to the host. He gives him his name and the two of you are whisked away to a private table.
Namjoon pulls your chair out for you and you thank him with a demure smile as he takes his seat after.
“I’ve got another place to take you to after dinner for drinks,” Namjoon mentions as he takes his menu and opens it. You do the same, admiring the gold font and trying to read the menu items with the dim lighting.
Your foot moves, brushing his and he chuckles, raising a brow. “You said no to the foot fetish?”
You kick him.
“So did you.” You grin before the waiter comes over and brings you glasses of water before they leave.
“Why did you pick this place?” You ask as you look around and see the patrons laughing and talking animatedly all around you. You’re glad you’re not underdressed as you tug on the hem of your dress.
“It’s my favorite,” Namjoon shrugs noncommittally. “Plus, I figured we could talk.”
“We have talked,” you point out and he rolls his eyes.
“About your foot fetish, yes.”
“I loathe you!”
Namjoon smirks. “No, you don’t.”
You glare at him, knowing he’s right. You huff instead and go back to reading the menu, ignoring his next attempt at conversation before the waiter appears to take your order and leaves the two of you on your own once again.
Namjoon finds himself gazing at you as you admire the flowers in the vase on the table, your hands brushing the petals as you smile. He ignores the rapid beating of his heart as you lock eyes with him.
He was startled, eyes widening with surprise. “N-nothing.”
“Do you bring all your dates here?” You inquire, your gaze sending shivers down his back. He gulps, licking his lips before answering.
“No.”
It’s a simple answer, and yet you’re not satisfied.
“No?”
“No.”
You realize you won’t be getting anywhere at this rate. Your fingers toy with the flower petals, trying to come off nonchalant as you ask, “who then?”
“Friends mostly. Sometimes family,” Namjoon answers honestly. You nod, wondering if you should try to pry or not. “Anyway, I think you’ll like it, and if you don’t, then you never have to come back.”
“Win-win,” you chuckle as he nods.
*
Dinner goes off without a hitch, and although you enjoy your meal, you can’t help but be eager to leave to see what else Namjoon has planned for the evening.
“Come,” he says as he takes your hand after paying the bill. He’d hear none of your protest about you paying or going splitting it, but he promised to let you pay for the next meal.
“Where are we?” You ask as he pulls into your new destination. A valet comes to Namjoon’s side to take his keys while the other opens your door.
Namjoon chuckles at your shocked expression as he walks you into the hotel.
“Relax, we're just here for drinks,” his dimpled smile makes you feel at ease.
Namjoon walks through the lobby, the staff greeting him as he goes toward the elevator with you in tow. He takes a card out of his pocket and scans it before the elevator opens and the both of you step inside.
“Where are we going?” You ask as he presses a button and you grip his hand tighter.
“The roof,” he answers with a whimsical grin as you ascend to the roof.
The dinging of the elevator and the doors opening bring relief as you step out, immediately awed by the view of the city. Namjoon stands beside you, his eyes on you instead. He admires the way your eyes have lit up like a million stars, your smile so big it rivals the moon. He feels his heart flutter as he looks away when he feels a blush over his cheeks.
“Beautiful,” he whispers as he looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“It is, isn’t it?” He nods as he clears his throat.
You follow Joon to a couch that overlooks the skyline, sitting as close to him as possible whilst still being comfortable. There’s a soft light illuminating the area with a warm glow, and music softly plays in the background.
There’s a bar in the middle of the roof, staffed with a handful of people and you can’t help but wonder as to why they’d need so many if only you and Namjoon were up there. Had he planned it this way?
“Let me get you a drink,” he says and you nod, still in awe as you rise from your seat to go to the edge, where a guard rail keeps you from falling.
The gentle wind ruffles your hair as the night sky glitters with stars. Your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the moment to its fullest capacity. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so at ease, so free.
Namjoon watches you from afar, leaning against the bar as the bartender makes your drinks. He feels nervous, but bubbles with excitement... He’s not sure why.
He feels like he knows you well enough but most of what he knows about you is printed on a few sheets of paper. He’s only brushed the surface of who you are, and yet, he’s already captivated by you. He feels like you’ve wrapped yourself around his heart, cinching it and making it hard for him to breathe. He doesn’t think he wants to be freed.
“Your drinks, sir.” Namjoon turns, thanking the bartender as he takes the drinks and walks over to you. You feel his presence, opening your eyes and dazzling him with a bright grin.
“I got your favorite,” Namjoon murmurs as he hands you your drink. You thank him, taking the drink from him as you step back and walk back to the couch. Namjoon follows after you, facing you.
“This is really beautiful, Joon. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I thought you might like it. I come here when I want to clear my head.” He explains, you nod. “I’ve never brought anyone else up here.”
“Is the hotel yours?”
Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head. “No, it’s my sister’s.”
“Namjoon!” you look over his shoulder to see a woman approaching the two of you. She’s tall, nearly Namjoon’s height in her heels as she holds her arms open. Her long black hair curls and sways as she walks. Her bright smile only accentuates her beauty as she struts toward you.
“And here she comes,” he sighs as he rises from the couch, you follow suit.
“Oh shit! Sorry, I didn’t know you brought someone up,” she apologizes genuinely feeling bad for interrupting. Her staff had let her know her little brother had arrived but neglected to mention he had a guest.
“You’re fine,” Namjoon shrugs. He turns to you and introduces you to his sister as his friend. It warms your heart.
“I’ve never met any of his friends,” Ames, his sister states, looking at Joon then you. “You must be really special if he’s brought you here. I wouldn’t be allowed up here if I didn’t own the place.”
Namjoon can feel the fire in his cheeks. “Can you go?”
“Oops, me and my big mouth!” Ames giggles, ruffling Namjoon’s hair before waving as she walks back to the elevator, her heels clicking as she goes.
Once she’s gone and Namjoon is sure she is, he apologizes.
“You don’t bring anyone up here?” you ask as you finish your drink, only for it to be switched out for a new one by one of the staff.
“Never. I come up here when I want to think or want to be alone. I was always stressed when I first became a matchmaker. I had a lot of failures, a lot of self-doubt that bubbled until I was consumed by anxiety and despair. I wanted to quit, find something else to do but Ames urged me to find her a match. I was terrified, Y/n. What if I fucked up? What if I ruined my sister’s life?” Namjoon looks lost in his thoughts as he absentmindedly takes a sip of the drink.
“What happened?” you ask in a soft tone, your hand on his thigh. Namjoon feels the warmth of your palm through his pants, it gives him goosebumps.
“I spent months searching for a match. I wanted nothing but the best for my sister. Ames helped raise me, she’s more of a mother than a sister. She’s sweet but she could easily cut you down a notch or two if she thought you’d hurt me. I wanted the best for her. To me it was the ultimate challenge… to her it was an opportunity to show me I had what it took to be in this profession.”
“I had to talk to her like I would a client, really dig deep into who she was and what she wanted. If you think our conversation was awkward…” Namjoon shakes his head, you giggle. You move closer to him, your thigh pressed against his.
“I guess I shouldn’t have complained,” you ask as you run your finger over the rim of your glass before meeting Namjoon’s gaze.
“No,” he smirks, as his thumb caresses your hand. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart is pounding in your chest. You push your hair over your shoulder, exposing more of your skin. You were flirting. Namjoon licks his lips, biting them after. You don’t miss the spark in his eyes before they darken into something primal.
You can’t help but stare at his plush lips, yearning to kiss them. To feel them cover every inch of your body in kisses that spark a fire inside you. Namjoon clears his throat, breaking eye contact, gulping.
It takes a few moments of silence for your mind to clear, “so I’m assuming it went well?”
“Extremely,” Namjoon smiles, it reaches his eyes. “She’s been married for a few years. She’s actually three months pregnant.”
“You’re going to be an uncle!” You exclaim and Namjoon nods excitedly.
“I can’t wait!”
“You’ll be amazing,” you hug him tight. You feel his large hands on the small of your back as he holds you close. You don’t want to let him go. You just want to hold him and kiss him all night, losing yourself in his touch.
When your embrace ends, you take a long sip of your drink, grateful for a distraction from the heat that’s spreading throughout your skin.
“With Ames, I did thorough background checks. I went above and beyond to find someone perfect. It was the most stressful assignment I’ve ever had… until you came along.” You quirk your head to the side. Namjoon laughs lightly.
“I guess I was slacking when it came to you, not on purpose but you should have never been set up with Taehyung. I know you’ve forgiven me for that, but fuck I truly am sorry. I don’t know how he slipped through.”
“I’m sure it happens,” you try to wave him off but he won’t have it.
“I was careless.” Namjoon licks his lips, wondering if he should be honest or not. You can tell he’s holding something back by the crease between his brows, something you’d noticed he did when he was thinking about something deeply.
“You can tell me,” you assure him, your hand resting on his. A smile tugs at his lips, “I’m looking for my match as well. I’ve been distracted but I promise that’s taking a backseat. I want to give you 100% of me.”
You feel flustered by his words, unable to speak.
Comfortable silence envelopes the two of you. You’re not sure where to go from here but you know you want to be in his company longer. You’re not sure what it is you’re feeling for your matchmaker but you don’t think it’s strictly platonic. You don’t want to dwell on those feelings too long though, so you have another drink and allow Namjoon to hold you and talk about himself and his future partner. A small part of you is jealous of the imaginary partner, wishing more than anything it could be you. You quickly shake that thought out of your head.
The following night, you’re lying on your couch with Yoongi sitting with his back against it, near your head. You’re sharing a bowl of popcorn as your phone vibrates on your chest.
You grab it, your eyes widening when you see a text from Namjoon.
[Joon-bug 💘]: Are you busy?
[You]: No, just at home with Yoongi. What’s up?
Yoongi eyes you as you sit up on the couch, brushing your hair out of the way as your teeth sink into your bottom lip.
“Is everything alright? You look panicked,” Yoongi comments as he sits up straighter, ignoring the movie on the TV.
Just as you open your mouth to answer, another text from Joon arrives.
[Joon-bug 💘]: Can I come over?
[You]: 👀
[Joon-bug 💘]: Not like that 💀
[You]: oh
[You]: and here I thought we had something ✨ special ✨
[You]: I’m kidding lol
You cringe, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way.
[You]: we’re just hanging out if you wanna come. Unless you’ve got plans for us?
[Joon-bug 💘]: I just thought we could hang out but I don’t wanna impose on your night
[You]: shut up and come over 💃
[Joon-bug 💘]: see you soon ❣️
Fifteen minutes later, Namjoon is knocking on your front door. Yoongi smirks as you trip over your feet in your eagerness to get to the door.
“Hey,” you greet Namjoon, igniting the way your heart flutters in your chest.
A soft smile lights up Namjoon’s face, “hey.”
“Let him come in, Y/n!” Yoongi calls from his spot on the couch.
“Oh, yeah! Come in!” You exclaim as you step aside to let him in. Namjoon feels slightly nervous and he hopes it’ll go away soon as he sits on the couch.
“We were just gonna order pizza,” you tell him as you hand him your phone and tell him to order whatever he wants. He nods, taking it from you.
“So what exactly do you need to find someone the perfect match?” Yoongi asks, intrigued by the matchmaker and his occupation,
“A lot of information, honestly. I do background checks, meet with the client, meet with the client’s friends and family. I go to their homes and see how they live. I analyze every aspect of them.” Namjoon explains as he looks at Yoongi.
Yoongi nods, “so you know everything about Y/n?”
“I know a lot,” Namjoon nods in confirmation.
“So you know about Kim Seokjin? She never talks about him but I know that must be important.”
“Kim Seokjin?” Namjoon asks. You huff, glaring at your best friend.
Yoongi stuffs a handful of chips in his mouth before muttering an oops.
“My ex. I thought you’d know his name though?” Namjoon shrugs, “I didn’t come to work tonight.”
“Fair, we’re glad you’re here as you and not as Matchmaker Kim.” Yoongi grins as he grabs another handful of chips, knowing he’s already put his foot in his mouth and should keep it occupied.
“I think he prefers Cupid,” you tease, making Namjoon blush as he playfully shoves you.
“Children, children, please.”
You throw a couch cushion at Yoongi, who dodges it and sticks his tongue out at you.
“Anyway…” Yoongi grabs the remote and begins scrolling through the movie options on the TV screen.
“Whatever is fine,” you shrug as you take a few chips out of the bowl. You settle into your seat, meanwhile, Yoongi grabs a cushion and sets it at your feet before plopping down on it to be closer to the coffee table where his snacks sit perfectly arranged.
Namjoon scoots closer trying to see the screen better as you offer him a drink, which he gladly accepts.
“Thank you,” Namjoon says as you hand him a coke. Yoongi continues to scroll through the movie choices, humming to himself.
“Wait!” you shout, startling both men as Yoongi turns around to look at you, a dark brow raised in annoyance.
“What?” he asks.
“I want to watch Shrek,” you state as Namjoon chuckles from beside you.
“Again?” Yoongi huffs, turning back to the screen and then looking at Namjoon. “We can outvote her real quick.”
Namjoon’s ears burn red at being put on the spot, your pouty lips making him give in with a sigh, “Shrek is fine.”
“Damn, we could have had her outnumbered,” Yoongi whines as he starts the movie. “The second one is the best one anyway.”
“You only like it because of Puss in Boots,” you reply, rolling your eyes.
“Hey, Antonio Banderas is hot!” Namjoon quips, making Yoongi chuckle.
“I mean, he’s right.”
“That’s something we can all agree on then,” you grin as you grab the blanket thrown over the couch to put on your lap.
Nearly fifteen minutes into the movie, your doorbell rings, and Yoongi scrambles off his cushion as he runs to the door.
“Hey! Thanks!” He says as he takes the pizza and sides from the delivery person and hands them their tip before wishing them a good night.
“Food’s here!” Yoongi announces, despite the both of you being aware. Namjoon helps you make space on the coffee table so Yoongi can set the food down.
“Ugh! This is so good!” You practically moan at the first bite of pizza you take. Your eyes flutter shut as the delectable scent of the pizza fills your nose. Namjoon chuckles, agreeing that it does taste amazing.
You stuff yourselves full, groaning after about how you can’t move but still mouth every line of the movie along with Namjoon and Yoongi.
“This scene always breaks my heart,” you pout, pulling the blanket closer to your chest to hug it.
“You’ve seen it a million times, Y/n,” Yoongi laughs as he shakes his head but rests his head on his knees after.
“It’s sad! Let me be sad!” You retort as Fiona and Donkey talk while Shrek eavesdrops. “Why does love have to be complicated? Can’t you just be with the person who feels like home? Someone who’s your friend, who makes you laugh, who can be your comfort when life gets tough…”
Namjoon looks over at you, his eyes taking in every bit of your profile. Your eyes are filled with unshed tears, glossy as the light reflects off them. A small sniffle captures his attention, drawing him to your nose as you sniffle once again. Your hand lays on the couch, and with a burst of courage, he places his hand over yours. His thumb rubs your hand, offering you a squeeze of comfort.
You look over at him, smiling weakly as you lace your fingers with his. You turn your gaze back to the screen, watching as Lord Fuckwad… sorry, Farquad comes to get Fiona himself.
Throughout the rest of the movie, your hands remain entwined and Namjoon can’t help but feel at ease like his hand belongs in yours. And instead of it terrifying him, it soothes him.
Your mother calls Thursday reminding you of the small family gathering occurring Saturday night. You groan, “mom…”
“No, bring Yoongi if you want to. I love that boy, he’s so sweet and charming,” your mom says and you sigh, promising to ask your best friend to accompany you, otherwise, you wouldn’t be going at all.
*
[You]: Jooooniiieee!
[Joonie 💘]: Y/nnnnnnn
You giggle, shaking your head. You smile, biting your lip as you write your next text.
[You]: Are you busy Saturday night?
[You]: I have this family party and I know I’d have more fun if you were there with me
[You]: Feel free to say no though… seriously I won’t blame you if you say no
[Joonie💘]: Will your mom be upset if I show up?
[Joonie💘]: I mean, I’m supposed to be working for you…?
[You]: Don’t worry about her, I want you there. Yoongi might go, I’m sure my mom called him as well and you could bring someone if you want to
[You]: Seriously, Joonie, no pressure at all
Namjoon’s fingers hover over his phone. He knows he’s crossing boundaries he shouldn’t even be near, but then the thought of seeing you excites him. He remembers the softness and warmth of your hand in his, and that alone is enough for him to agree to go with you (and Yoongi).
[You]: Thank you, Joonie! You’re the best!
[Joonie💘]: I am, aren’t I? ;)
His text has your heart skipping a beat… he really was.
“Okay, here are the rules…” You start as Yoongi parks his car outside of your mother’s house. The driveway is littered with cars and Yoongi has parked away from everyone, making sure he can’t get blocked in when you want to go home later.
“Rules?” Namjoon’s brows rise in confusion. “There are rules for a party? At your mom’s house?”
“Yup, so pay attention, Lover Boy,” Yoongi chimes in as he looks out of his window to see the party already thriving.
“The first rule, arrive in your own car so you can leave whenever you want,” you raise one finger, and Namjoon nods, still puzzled.
“The second rule, greet everyone in attendance. Three, you have to try the food, even if you gotta spit it out later. Four, if my uncle Javi offers you a drink, say no. You’ll blackout before you finish it… Yoongi learned that the hard way, didn’t you?” You look at your best friend, who shrugs.
“I had fun.”
“Yeah, you don’t remember if you did,” you huff. “I think that’s it…”
“Seems doable,” Namjoon nods as you undo your seatbelt and get out of the car, followed by Yoongi.
“Come on,” you say, grabbing Namjoon’s hand. Yoongi smirks as he leads the three of you past the cars and toward the party around back.
Your mom is in the middle of doing shots with her sister when you finally reach the guests. You shake your head, a smile on your lips as she spots you, shouting your name. You let go of Namjoon’s hand, going over to her to hug her.
“You came!” She smiles before going to hug Yoongi. “Oh, I missed you! Why don’t you come to visit more?”
Yoongi blushes, “I’ve had to work more hours.”
“Come over whenever you want!” Your mother exclaims and you sigh.
“I’m right here,” you pout and she smiles.
“I love you,” she said as she noticed Namjoon standing behind you, awkwardly.
“Namjoon!”
“Hello,” he waves and your mom pulls him into a hug, which surprises Namjoon.
“It’s so good to see you! Have you and Y/n become friends? You’re welcome here any time!” Your mom smiles before her sister is calling her name and she’s leaving the three of you with a wave of her hand.
“I’m going to get a drink,” Yoongi walks away leaving you with Namjoon.
“Sorry about that,” you smile sheepishly.
“She’s nice,” Namjoon comments, his dimpled smile putting you at ease. You take his hand in yours, leading him to the table with the food, stopping to introduce him to your family as you go.
Namjoon stares at the array of food as you hand him a plate, grabbing one for yourself as you go down to the table and grab some of your favorites. Namjoon does the same before he notices the bar set up on the other end of the yard. A DJ has just finished setting up and music fills the air shortly after.
“Your mom sure knows how to throw a party. What’s the occasion?” Namjoon asks as you find a table to sit at far from most of your family. Yoongi has long disappeared, and you know you’ll see him again when he’s ready to go.
“It’s Saturday,” you shrug.
“Saturday?” Namjoon repeats. You nod as you take a bite of your food, chewing and swallowing before elaborating, “my mom likes to host parties, so she’ll throw one at least once a month. I’ll have to bring you over for my cousin’s third birthday party next month.”
“Will it be this elaborate?” Namjoon asks out of curiosity as he takes in the party. There are guests doing shots, dancing, playing games, children running around playing tag or hide-n-seek. There’s a large cake at a dessert table, more snacks on another table and he’s sure there’s a man dressed in a robot suit waiting to start his show.
“Yeah,” you giggle. “Except it’ll be themed.”
“Sounds like fun,” Namjoon grins. He looks at you, placing his hand over yours. You smile at him,
“You know, other than Yoongi, you’re the only one I’ve ever invited to a family gathering,” you stab your fork into a strawberry before bringing it to your lips. Namjoon tilts his head in question, “Really?”
You wrap your lips around the strawberry. Namjoon swears his heart stops when your pretty lips bite down on the fruit.
“I love my family, but there’s always some type of drama going on. I just mind my business and move it along, which is why I always have my own ride home. A getaway car if you will.”
“I guess next time, I’ll take you to meet my family,” Namjoon says as he squeezes your hand. “You’ve met Ames, but I think you’d like the rest of my family as well. I hope.”
“I’m sure I will,” you assure him.
“You have got to try the drinks at the bar,” Yoongi states as he comes back carrying a blue drink that looks radioactive.
“Yoongi!” You exclaim.
“It’s non-alcoholic,” Yoongi rolls his eyes before offering you the drink to taste. You wrap your lips around the straw, taking a sip.
“That tastes like a Push-Pop,” you stick your tongue out and it’s tinted blue. Namjoon laughs as Yoongi walks away with his drink.
“Do you want to go to the bar? There might be something better up there,” you suggest. Namjoon nods, rising from his seat before pulling your chair out. You thank him, your hand in his as you cross the yard to get to the bar, taking a seat on the stool.
You take a look at the menu, Namjoon looking at it over you, his breath ghosting your bare shoulder. You look up at him, your eyes locked on him. Namjoon’s gaze moves down to your lips and back to your eyes. It would be so easy to close the gap between your lips… so easy.
“What can I get you?” you’re startled by the bartender, his dashing smile making your eyes widen.
“Uh, we haven’t decided yet,” you murmur as you look down at the menu. The bartender smiles, telling you to wave him down when you’re ready as he goes to serve someone else.
“I think I’ll just get a strawberry daiquiri,” you look over the menu, and half the drinks look a little out there. You’re not too sure you’d enjoy a Push-Pop drink like Yoongi’s either.
Namjoon waves the bartender down, ordering drinks for both of you. Yoongi appears on your right, setting his empty glass on the counter. He turns his back to the bar, elbows resting on the counter as he observes the party.
“Your mom is a few shots away from starting karaoke,” Yoongi chuckles, grinning at you. You sigh, “it’s not a Y/L/N party without it.”
“We’ll be long gone by then,” Yoongi looks at both you and Namjoon, noting how Joon is standing at your side despite there being a free seat beside him. Yoongi looks down to see your hands entwined.
“Definitely,” you agree as your drinks are set in front of you. You take a sip, sighing happily at the taste before Yoongi disappears once again. You know you should really ask him where he goes off too, but since you’re not left alone this time, you’ll let it go.
Namjoon turns his body toward you, his drink in his hand. He swirls it with his straw, “the bartender hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”
Namjoon chuckles, “the bartender? He’s been staring at you this whole time.”
“Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” you shrug, taking another long sip of your drink. “I’m not interested anyway.”
“You’re not?” Namjoon asks, curiosity clear in his tone.
“No, I have you,” you say with a smile that has Namjoon’s heart flipping in his chest.
“Yeah… you do,” Namjoon whispers as he downs his drink. This wasn’t supposed to happen, was it? You couldn’t mean you had him, right? You meant you had him to make your match… right?
“Come on, sleepyhead,” You groan as you lead Yoongi to the car, setting him in the backseat. Namjoon helped carry most of his weight to get him to the car.
“Does he always take off to nap in your house?” Namjoon asks as he gets in the passenger’s seat.
“Probably,” you get in the driver’s seat. You’d only had two sips of your drink when you’d first arrived and now it was nearing midnight and Yoongi had fallen asleep and refused to wake up.
You drive Yoongi to his house, getting him inside safely with Namjoon’s help. You tuck him in before going back out to the car with Namjoon and heading to his house next.
Shortly after, you pull into Namjoon’s driveway. You turn to look at him, finding that he’s already looking at you, “thank you for coming tonight.”
“I had fun,” he grins. You sigh in relief, making him laugh.
“Your family is fun and I enjoyed spending time with you,” Namjoon undoes his seatbelt. You wish the night didn’t have to end, a pout on your lips that Namjoon doesn’t miss.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. You instantly lean into his palm, holding his wrist to keep it in place. Your heart races in your chest, your eyes locked on his.
Namjoon is captivated by you, he can feel his heart thundering in his chest. He hesitates, he wants to kiss you, desperately.
“Namjoon,” the soft whisper of his name is all he needs to press his lips against yours. You kiss him back immediately, loving how your lips are slotted perfectly against his. He’s a great kisser, you instantly realize as your hands grip his shoulders.
Namjoon’s hands cup your face, his lips easily moving with yours perfectly. Happiness explodes in his chest, fireworks bursting behind his eyelids.
The kiss is short but tender, leaving you breathless.
Namjoon bites his bottom lip, his eyes sparkle as they meet your flushed face. You push a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling shy.
A smile appears on Namjoon’s lips, “goodnight, Yn.”
You watch him go, whispering, “goodnight.”
Namjoon lays in bed the next morning, last night’s memories filling his head as he stares up at the ceiling.
His fingers brush his lips, remembering the warmth of your lips on his less than twelve hours ago. He wonders if you’re thinking about him as well. He wants to see you again. He wants to kiss you again. Hold you again.
These thoughts are dangerous. Illusions of what could never happen, not with you.
“I’m supposed to be finding her a match,” he chides himself, his palms rubbing his face as he groans, muffling the frustrated scream that escapes him. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this to her. She needs her perfect match, not me.”
Namjoon feels his chest tighten.
“I can’t do this to her… not to her.”
You awake with a smile on your face, your phone ringing with Namjoon’s picture of you two at the rooftop bar. You’re both smiling at the camera, the skyline behind you.
“Hello?” you chirp as you sit up.
“Hey,” you immediately notice his voice doesn’t sound as cheerful as usual.
“What’s wrong, Joonie?” you ask, your voice laced with concern.
Namjoon sighs, your name leaving his lips in a despondent tone and your heart sinks to your stomach; he regretted the kiss.
“Don’t.”
“Y/n… I shouldn’t have kissed you.” Namjoon can feel his heart splintering as he speaks. He looks up at his ceiling, swallowing thickly. Scalding tears well in his eyes, one rolling down his cheek. He licks his lips but that does nothing to soothe the dryness in his mouth or the burning pain in his throat.
“I said don’t! Don’t ruin this, Joon. Don’t!” You cry out, surprising yourself. You couldn’t believe this was happening! Not after last night, not after he kissed you. This had to be some sort of nightmare, a bad dream that you’d be waking up from soon. But the way your chest wracks with oncoming sobs and your hand trembles as you clutch your phone to your ear, you know it’s not.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I’m not your match, I shouldn’t have done that…”
“You know what? Fuck finding my match. I don’t want to be matched. All it does is lead to heartache, so much heartache. I’m done, Namjoon. I won’t be needing your services any longer.” You spit angrily, surprised fire doesn’t spout from your lips. How could he do this?
“Y/n…” Namjoon starts but you interrupt.
“Goodbye.”
You throw your phone on the bed after hanging up. You curl up in your bed, pulling the comforter over your head as tears wrack through you. Your tears soak your pillowcase as you shake forcefully with sobs.
You should have known better. You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to let him in, to let anyone in. You thought… it doesn’t matter what you thought because Namjoon had told you it was a mistake. A mistake.
“Fuck you, Namjoon. Fuck you!”
Namjoon tries to call you back but he’s sent to voicemail over and over again. He feels awful but he knows it’s for the best. He should just let you go like you let him go. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get so close. You were supposed to be a client, that’s all. So why was his heart aching so much at the thought of never seeing you again or hearing your voice?
“It’s for the best,” he tells himself as he sets his phone down. “It’s for the best.”
*
“You’re an idiot,” Ames doesn’t hesitate to say as she sits beside her brother.
“She was my client,” Namjoon protests weakly, making his sister roll her eyes.
“That was long gone the moment you brought her to the rooftop. She must have been special for you to take her and by what you’ve told me, it sounds like you were special to her too.”
Namjoon groans, this isn’t what he wanted to hear when he had invited his sister over to talk. He expected her to agree with him, keeping personal lives apart from work.
Ames shakes her head, “how long are you going to keep sabotaging yourself?”
“I am not!” Namjoon retorts, looking offended.
“You are! You found happiness, true happiness in her and you let her go. For someone who’s in the business of love, you sure do fear it,” Ames shakes her head. “You deserve to be happy, to be loved, to be cherished. You got into this business to bring couples together, so why can’t you do the same for yourself? What are you afraid of, Namjoon?”
Namjoon can feel tears well up in his eyes, “I’m afraid I won’t be enough. That she’ll leave.”
“I understand, I do, but fear does nothing but hold you back. You’re going to miss out on so fucking much because you let your fear consume you. You’re not living, you’re hiding and going through the shadows, and for what? To be miserable because you can’t admit to yourself that you have feelings for her? When was the last time someone made you feel like this? Made you feel like you were home? Like the weight of the world isn’t so heavy after all? You deserve happiness despite what demons linger around in your head. You are worthy, Namjoon. Don’t let fear win again, not this time, not when you’re in love with her.”
Namjoon is speechless, utterly speechless.
Ames is right, he knows she is but he’s fucked up so bad. He’s sure you wouldn’t answer any call or text he sent. He royally fucked up because he was scared. He’d seen so many relationships end, tried to save many that ended up crumbling anyway. Did he have what it took to save this one? To make it last? He hoped so.
“I fucked it all up, Ames. There’s no way she will talk to me,” Namjoon admits dejectedly.
“Obviously, you broke her heart,” Ames sighs as she scowls at her brother. Namjoon withers under her hard gaze, feeling like a child.
“What do I do? What can I even do now?” Namjoon is at a loss. His heart aching as he realized he could have truly lost you for good, all because he was afraid. He wished he’d never made that phone call, never heard the sadness in your voice and the hurt of it all. How would you ever forgive him?
“Try calling her and if that doesn’t work, call the best friend,” Ames suggests, and Namjoon grimaces. Yoongi was not going to want to talk to him, sure he hated Namjoon’s guts.
“I don’t think Yoongi would answer,” Namjoon admits as he twiddles his thumbs.
“You won’t know until you try,” Ames says as she ushers her brother out the door to try and salvage what he’s ruined.
Namjoon sits in his car for a moment to collect his thoughts before driving home. Regret filled his body, why did he always do this to himself?
It didn’t matter, Namjoon told himself. He’d at least try and if you still wanted nothing to do with him then he’d accept it but at the very least he had to apologize. He knew you felt the same for him as he did for you and although it was still blooming and unsure of where your paths would go, Namjoon had to at least try.
When he’s in the comfort of his home, he sits on the couch. Your contact is on his screen, his finger hovering over the screen, hesitating to call.
“Just do it,” he huffs as he inhales deeply and pressed ‘call’. The line ringing makes his heart skyrocket as he waits but you don’t answer. He can’t help but be disappointed, although he suspected this was going to be the result. You didn’t want to hear from him, and he couldn’t blame you.
Namjoon calls Yoongi, and much to his surprise, he answers on the first ring, “You fucked up Cupid.”
Namjoon sighs in relief, “I know, trust me, I know.”
“What are you gonna do? You finally realized you liked her after you told her the kiss was a mistake? Can’t say I’m too happy with you right now, Lover Boy.” Yoongi says as he sits back in his bed.
“I know. I fucked up, Yoongi. I was scared, fuck. I always fucking do this. I get scared and let it consume me until it ruins everything around me,” Namjoon groans.
“Well, she’s just as upset as you are. More, actually. So again, what are you going to do?”
“I need to talk to her but she won’t answer my calls. I’ve tried texting her but nothing.”
Yoongi sighs, debating on whether he should meddle or not. On the one hand, he wanted you to be happy and it’s been a long time since he'd seen you genuinely happy with someone that wasn’t him.
However, Namjoon had hurt you and he didn’t like that one bit.
“Namjoon…” Yoongi licks his lips, his heart weighing heavy in his chest. “Is she the one you want? I can’t be getting involved if you’re only going to hurt her more.”
Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to answer, “I do! I do, Yoongi. Trust me, I’ve been regretting making that phone call. I’m not losing her again, I can’t.”
Yoongi nods, “I’ll text you in about an hour with a location. Don’t fuck this up, Cupid.”
“Yoongi, what are we doing here?” You look at the restaurant you’ve arrived at, not expecting it to be your destination when you’d agreed to go to lunch with your best friend. Your eyes linger on the gazebo you had sat at with Namjoon, and the memory sears your heart as you force yourself to look away, blinking away the tears that have welled in your eyes.
“Getting lunch,” he answers simply with a shrug. He takes your hand and leads you through the entrance, stopping only to tell the hostess you needed a table for two.
“Yoongi,” you whine as you take your seat on the patio, away from everyone else. The empty tables around you make you feel better, not wanting to be around anyone other than your friend.
“Hush, you’ve barely left the house since The Thing. You need some fresh air and some sun.”
“The Thing? it has a name now?” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. You click your tongue. “I was rejected by a matchmaker, Yoongi. Don’t call it The Thing.”
“Yeah, yeah. You still like him though. You were falling for him and you miss him, no matter how much you try to deny it. I know you, Y/n.” Yoongi’s eye contact doesn’t waver as he reaches over the table to squeeze your hand. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he glances at it before putting it away. “Now, I need a drink if I’m gonna be sitting out here, so I’m going to the bar real quick.”
Without waiting for a response, Yoongi rises from his seat, humming to himself. The bar is on the opposite side of the patio, far enough from you to not be able to hear Yoongi order whiskey on the rocks and eye the door that leads into the restaurant. Namjoon opens the door slowly after getting Yoongi’s confirmation text that you’d both arrived. He felt guilty about luring you out like this, and he knew it wasn’t his best decision if you’d been avoiding him. For a brief moment, Yoongi and Namjoon lock eyes. Yoongi raises his glass at him, nodding in your direction. He’s done his part, it was up to Namjoon to do the rest.
Yoongi watches you intently, noting the surprised look on your face when it’s Namjoon that sits across from you and not your scheming best friend. You scowl, eyes like daggers as you mouth ‘I hate you’ to Yoongi.
Anger boils in the pit of your stomach, hands growing clammy as they clenched into fists on your lap. Your hard gaze shifts from your meddling best friend, to the man who crushed your heart like a soda can.
Namjoon says your name softly, nerves thrumming throughout his body as he takes you in. Your hair sits right above your shoulders, gently blowing in the wind. Your makeup is light, subtle, and perfect for lunch out with your friend. Your lipstick matches your sundress and despite the stoic look on your face, you look radiant. It makes him gulp. Why had he fucked it up?
“Joon,” the nickname slips, and you sigh. Your hand moves from your lap to grab your straw, stirring your glass of water, the ice clinking against the glass. “What are you doing here?”
You look away from the glass, meeting his dark eyes. They look apologetic and you resist the urge to scoff. “I thought you said everything you needed to that morning?”
Namjoon feels his throat closing up at your harshness, but he knows he hurt you and he wishes so desperately that he hadn’t. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Okay, you’re sorry for kissing me?”
Grabbing your purse off the table, you send one last glare to Yoongi as you rise from your seat and head to the gate that leads to the town square. You stomp your feet, grumbling under your breath.
“No!” Namjoon protests immediately following after you. Yoongi’s eyebrows rise as he finishes his drink, paying for it before he’s going after the both of you.
When you halt, Namjoon almost crashes into you. He apologizes profusely as he walks around you, pausing to notice the gazebo that’s captured your attention. A sniffle escapes you, and you curse as you take a shuddered breath.
“Y/n, I’m sorry I ever made that phone call. Never would I regret kissing you,” Namjoon states but you refuse to meet his eyes. Instead, you walk forward toward the gazebo and take a seat on the bench.
Namjoon sits beside you hesitantly. “I was scared. It’s lame, I know but it’s the truth. I’m supposed to be professional, to find your perfect match, not to fall for you… and when we kissed…”
Trailing off, Namjoon looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs as he ignores the blush that heats his cheeks. His throat feels dry, and he’s suddenly unable to speak. That’s when you turn to him, biting your lip as you study him. You notice the way he’s twiddling his thumbs, his knee shaking, and his chest rising and falling faster than normal. His cheeks are pink, his forehead beading with sweat, and his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Startled, Namjoon’s eyes land on your hand that you’ve placed over his knee to stop the shaking. A shaky sigh leaves his lips as he looks up, locking eyes with yours. “After we kissed… I knew I never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again.”
“Namjoon,” you breathe his name softly. Your icy resolve melted despite knowing you should keep him at arm’s length but you couldn’t. You’d missed him, you hoped for this moment, for him.
“I fucked up again. And I understand if you never want to see or hear from me after today but I want to say that I’m sorry for lying about regretting our kiss and for hurting you. I never want to hurt you again. I’ll cherish every moment we spent together, and I hope you’re able to find someone perfect for you.” Namjoon swallows thickly, nodding as he goes to rise but your hand reaches for him to stop him.
“I never wanted a perfect match,” is what you say. Namjoon sits back down with his knee pressed against yours as he turns his body to face you. “All I wanted was to find love and be loved, Joon.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes but you wave him off before pressing your finger to his lips.
“I found that with you, Namjoon. I want it with you but you hurt me. If we- if we pursue this, I need to know I can trust you with my heart. Trust you won’t break it again. I may be foolish for giving you a second chance, but I want you. I like you.” A small smile appears on your lips, ignoring the pounding of your heart and the rush of your blood in your ears.
“You’d give me a second chance?” Namjoon is shocked, not expecting this at all. If anything, he just wanted to apologize but this was better than he could have imagined. A dimpled smile lights up his face, his hands gripping yours. “I promise, I will never hurt you again. I don’t ever want to make you feel like that again and I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you.”
“You promise?” you ask tentatively.
“I promise,” Namjoon answers earnestly.
You stand pulling him with you to hug him. You’ve missed him so much, missed his touch. Namjoon’s hand caresses your cheek, his eyes twinkle when they meet yours.
“Did you forgive him or can I punch him now?” Yoongi shouts from his spot a few feet away from the gazebo, an ice cream cone in his hand.
You look over your shoulder at him, laughing as you flip him off. He shrugs, licking his ice cream and smiling to himself. He was grateful to see you happy once again.
“Ignore him,” you whisper as Namjoon chuckles softly.
You place your hand on his shoulder, melting under his touch. Your eyes flit to his lips and back to his intense gaze. Your palm moving to his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart against his ribcage.
Slowly, you lean forward to bridge the gap between your lips, earning a soft gasp from him as they meet. With gentle hands, Namjoon pulls you closer, deepening the kiss further as his fingers thread through your hair. As you wrap your arms around his neck, you know his are the only lips you ever want to kiss again.
Across town in Namjoon’s office, his printer is slowly working and releasing a single sheet. Ames, Namjoon’s sister, grabs it. A bright grin overcomes her as she lays the sheet of paper on her brother’s desk.
Kim Namjoon and Y/L/N Y/N
100%
Perfect Match
© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.
#bangtanarmynet#btshoneyhive#btsgoldnet#namjoon fanfic#namjoon x reader insert#namjoon x you#namjoon x y/n#matchmaker!namjoon#the matchmaker jjk#namjoon fluff and angst#namjoon s2l
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Midoriya Izuku x F! Reader - Repayment
Request: izuku midoriya x rich and kind reader, (she always had a crush on him but never tell him being afraid of being rejected) one day she takes inko and him in her car then bring them in front of a beautiful and huge house, then gives keys to inko "i know i'll never be able to thank you for everything, your kindness, your attention too..but i hope that you'll love it so i bring you this beautiful gift for you both..., congract this house is yours now" ^^ thank you (hope your receive the request)
- Anon
A/N: Thank you for the request! Don’t know why I didn’t get it the first time.
TW: Fluff. Lots o’ Fluff. Mentions of Bakugou’s confrontation with Midoriya in ep. 1.
“’Zuku!” you cried, your little 6 year old legs running up to your friend who had been pushed to the ground by your mean classmate, Bakugou. You gave the blonde boy a mean look before yelling at him.
“Leave him alone Kacchan! I mean it!” you stated angrily.
The smug boy smirked. “Oh? And what are you going to do about it, shrimp?” he mocked, pointing out your slightly shorter stature.
You’d been taught not to use violence or your quirk against others, and you made sure to adhere to those rules....usually.
But Midoriya was your friend and Bakugou had no right to bully him just because he was quirkless. You believed that everyone should be treated with kindness, but with Bakugou... well, let’s just say he really tested your limits. This was why you wanted to be a hero, to stop bullies like him.
You sneered at the wheat-haired boy. “Leave him alone. I won’t say it again.” you said as menacingly as a 6 year old could.
The blonde opened his mouth to retort, but a teacher soon appeared, cutting in and defusing the situation.
Honestly, the whole reason you even attended the elementary school was still lost on you. Why couldn’t you just grab Midoriya and be taught by your in-home tutor instead?
Your parents were both from rich families that came from old money. Your parents had had a ginormous wedding ceremony that had cost about as much as a hotel resort and had friends who were CEOs and directors of mega-corporations. It helped that both of them also had high-paying, high-ranking jobs as well, adding to your family’s wealth.
However, both of them wanted you to get a regular schooling experience and learn how to interact with people from all walks of life, rich or not. They wanted you to be well-rounded and not end up arrogant or entitled like others who had considerable wealth.
The fact that your quirk was sort of like telepathy, except that you could see what other people were intending to do, along with a bit of telekinesis, allowing you to move other people..... yeah, that kind of power could easily go to anyone’s head.
So, your parents had you attend a nearby, regular elementary school. They would even walk you to and from school like normal parents, instead of having the chauffer take you.
You never talked about your family’s money, as you didn’t see it as a big deal. It was just the way your family was, so what?
You were happy with your friend, and had been so thankful that you’d been introduced to the Midoriyas when you first started school. Even if it was when your parents were still trying to get used to the new school schedule.
~Flashback~
You had stayed at the school about 2 hours past the last bell and were beginning to think your parents had forgotten you. You sat under a tree on the playground that was normally used for climbing during recess. Small tears started to prickle at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall any second, when you heard a sweet voice call out to you.
“Hey! Are you ok?!”
You turned to the side to see a boy from your class running up to you, waving to get your attention. He had messy green hair and matching emerald eyes that looked so pretty, along with a spattering of freckles on his cheeks that looked nice.
The boy stopped in front of you, his expression full of concern. “Are you alright?” he asked, his brows a little furrowed.
A few tears escaped as you sniffled. “M-My parents... aren’t h-here.. y-yet. I m-miss them...” you spoke softly between shaky breaths.
The mossy-haired boy sat down next you, patting your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. My mom isn’t here yet either. She has to work late today...Maybe you can come with us and we can take you home?” he offered, trying to find a way to cheer you up.
You nodded your head, sniffling a bit as you did so.
The boy grinned happily. “Ok! Oh! And by the way, my name is Midoriya Izuku. What’s your name?”
You wiped away a tear as you spoke softly. “(L/n) (Y/n). You can call me (Y/n), if you want to. My parents told me not to use my surname too often.”
Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “Then, I guess you can use my given name too!” he said with a small smile.
You mirrored his expression.
“Hey, you wanna play tag?” the boy asked suddenly.
Your eyes lit up. “Yeah!” you exclaimed gleefully.
Soon, Midoriya’s mom showed up, panting a bit and looking like she fast-walked or ran all the way to the school. When Izuku told his mother about your predicament, the woman immediately went into mama-mode.
She asked if you knew either of your parents’ numbers, which you thankfully did, and then proceeded to call them. She told them the situation, and was about to give them a piece of her mind, when she heard how distraught they were over the whole thing. They sounded genuinely remorseful and even asked to speak with their child.
Inko handed the phone to you and listened to the conversation. It sounded like your parents were both apologizing profusely, saying they didn’t mean to forget, that it would never happen again, and that they loved you so much and were very sorry.
You listened and responded with a teary smile. “I love you too. Can Izuku and his mom walk me home?” you asked hopefully, not wanting to wait all by yourself.
You passed the phone back to Inko. “They said they want to talk to you again.” you said.
Inko took the device. “Yes?” she asked, very curious.
“Would you be willing to walk her home? She knows the way.” came the voice from the other end of the line.
The mother was flabbergasted. “I’m sorry, but do you even know who I am? I could be a kidnapper or psychopath for all you know. What parent would entrust their child to a complete stranger so readily?” she asked, concerned for your home life.
Your father chuckled a little before responding calmly. “Our daughter is an incredible judge of character, miss. She wouldn’t have given you our number if she thought you were dangerous. The fact that you were concerned about her leaving with a stranger, even if said stranger is yourself, just shows that you’re a caring person.” they said.
The green-haired woman was surprised by the statement, though she quickly shook herself out of her daze.
“You shouldn’t trust the judgement skills of a small chil-” she began.
“Part of her quirk is similar to mind-reading. She’d know if you were a bad person.” your mother explained, interrupting the woman.
Inko made a sound of realization as she processed the statement. She then looked back to where you and Izuku were playing catch with a ball someone had left behind.
“Well then, in that case, yes. I’ll gladly walk her home.” the woman replied, a smile of relief on her face. At least now she knew your parents weren’t being negligent. They were simply trusting in their daughter’s skills.
“Thank you ma’am. We appreciate it, truly.” your father said gratefully with your mom humming in agreement.
And with that, your parents hung up and Inko called for you and her son, saying that you were all going to be walking you home. The announcement caused you both to cheer happily.
The whole way there, you and Izuku talked about your shared fascination with Pro-Heroes and how you both wanted to be one when you got older. You talked about your favorite Heroes and villain battles, even mentioning your favorite civilian rescues. You both had finally found someone to geek out with and it was the best feeling ever.
When you and the Midoriyas got to the large, ornate gates of your home, the mother and son duo had found it kind of odd that they couldn’t see your house from the entrance.
You got on your tippy-toes and pressed the call button on one of the columns. A familiar deep voice then spoke through the speaker.
“What is your business here?” the voice asked, tone full of suspicion.
You smiled as you looked into one of the cameras by the gate and waved excitedly, completely unfazed by the scary voice.
“Takeshi! It’s (Y/n)! This is Midoriya and his mama! They helped walk me home!” you said gleefully.
The voice on the other end of the camera then spoke. “Hold on, I’m getting a message....Yes?....Ok... On it. The lady of the house has requested you and your son’s presence inside, Ms. Midoriya. Please, come in.” the man said courteously.
As soon as the words left the speaker, the tall gates in front you began to open inward. You then skipped forward down the paved path and turned around to the two behind you.
“Well? Aren’t you coming? We can take the walking trail if you’d like! It’s a bit shorter than the drive way.” you offered kindly.
The duo just nodded their heads, thinking that maybe your family wasn’t as normal as they originally thought.
You took the younger Midoriya’s hand and lead him down the cobblestone walking path, pointing out the beautifully expansive garden you and your father loved to tend to when he wasn’t busy, but usually had to be taken care of by the gardener.
Inko followed behind, slowly growing more and more curious about your parents and what on earth they did for a living.
Soon, you three arrived at the main entrance to your home.
The moment the mother and son saw your house, they had slack-jaws and wide eyes, completely unbelieving of what they were seeing.
Your ‘house’ was a giant mansion with European architecture and a few turrets popping up at the sides, almost like a castle. It was painted a brilliant mahogany color with deep chocolate accents and black paned windows. There was a luscious walkable Japanese-style garden in the front yard, with colorful lilies and white egret orchids. There was a winding wooden path with an elegant white bridge that went over a stream which ran through the garden and disappeared behind the huge house.
It was gorgeous.
You skipped up the beautifully carved double doors of your home and knocked a couple times.
“I’m home!” you exclaimed.
The doors opened to reveal your parents, your father squatting down with his arms open for a hug. You ran to him and laughed as he picked you up and nuzzled your head with his cheek, your mother coming up and hugging you as well.
Stepping inside, there was a window to the left that revealed a sizable indoor swimming pool in the next room. Further in, there was a glass wall that showed a fully-equipped gym with an additionally large area for quirk training on the other side.
“Oh, sweetpea, we’re soooo sorry about today! We promise it will never happen again!” your mother said as she rubbed her cheek against yours.
“Yes! We swear, we’ll be on time from now on! Can you ever forgive us, little blossom?” your father added, kissing your forehead softly.
You smiled, happy to be home. “I forgive you!” you said cheerfully.
Your mom then took you from your dad as he went to go greet your stunned guests.
“Miss Midoriya, we are very grateful to you for walking (Y/n) home. Would you and your son like to stay for dinner? The children can play upstairs while we show you around.” your father offered politely.
“YES, PLEASE!” You and Izuku suddenly exclaimed excitedly, both your eyes twinkling at the prospect of getting to spend more time with your new friend.
Inko looked down at her son’s hopeful expression and sighed, knowing she couldn’t say no to that look.
“I guess I've been outvoted." She said with a slight chuckle as you and the young green-ette smiled widely and let out shouts of joy.
From that point on, you and Izuku became best friends. When he'd been diagnosed as quirkless, you tried to cheer him up by saying that he might just be a late bloomer.
When he said that wasn't what the doctor said you replied with;
"Well everyone, including doctors, used to think powers like Quirks would never exist outside of comic books! And now look at us! I'm just saying, doctors have been wrong before!" You said defiantly, stomping one of your tiny 7-year-old feet for emphasis.
The grassy eyed boy smiled a little at your statement. Though they hadn't fully dispelled his sadness, your words did make him feel like there might still be hope for him. After all, you were right, there was such a thing as late bloomers, and maybe he was one.
As the years went by, you gained more and more admiration for Izuku’s intelligence and kind nature, finding them to be some of his greatest qualities. You had been there when he had been confronted by Bakugou back at the end of 3rd year in middle school. You heard what the blonde had said, telling your best friend to take a swan dive off the roof of the building, and nearly sent him flying into a wall with your telekinesis, but your best friend had stopped you, saying it wasn’t worth it.
You held back, instead making one of Bakugou’s feet unable to move, causing him to trip and land on his face once he was on the other side of the classroom door.
You smirked before turning to your friend, who was looking out the window, down at the ground below.
Your gaze went to where his eyes where directed and saw his hero notes in the koi pond. Your fury raged again, but before you could do anything, Izuku raced out of the room and ran down towards the fish pool.
You followed behind him, arriving just in time to hear him say, “Idiot! What if I had really jumped? You would’ve instigated a suicide! You have to think before you speak!” he said in a chastising manner to no one.
Your eyes widened at his words.
He wasn’t upset or even insulted that the blonde had said such a horrible thing to him. He was more concerned about how the other boy would’ve looked if he had jumped. He cared more about Bakugou keeping a good reputation than being angry with the boy’s awful words.
You ran up and hugged the green-haired male tightly from behind. He was just too kind and innocent. You felt your heartbeat pick up a little when the male turned around to wrap his arms around you gently.
“Hey, it’s okay, my notes are still legible, don’t worry.” he said reassuringly.
Gods, he was too pure for this world. You tightened your arms around him as you swore to protect the precious boy in front of you.
-Timeskip-
"'Zuku, why are you always so worried about everything? It's JUST an entrance exam. You developed your quirk a few months ago, right? I know you’ll do fine.” you said encouraging, trying to convince the shaking green-haired boy to calm down.
“That’s just it! It’s the entrance exam for UA! What if I don’t get in? What if no hero course accepts me? What if I can’t become a hero at all? What if-” Midoriya began, nervously rambling.
You put your hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Midoriya Izuku. You’ll be fine. I have faith in you, alright? Are you saying I have bad judgement in who I put my faith in?” you said, making direct eye-contact with said male.
The emerald-eyed boy shook his head quickly. “O-Of course not! You don’t have bad judgement! It’s jus-” he started, trying to cover up his mistake.
You cut him off with a squeeze. “Then don’t say such things. You’ll do amazing, ok? I believe in you. Now, go get in there you dork.” you said teasingly, letting go of your friend and giving him a nudge towards the school entrance.
You had already taken the recommendations exam, so you weren’t going to be there with Midoriya for the regular exam.
You hadn’t seen him use his new quirk, but you knew that he had been training like crazy for this day.
You had been going over to the Midoriya residence more often over the last few years, your parents not minding as they were happy you had found such nice people to befriend.
Inko had become like a second mother to you. You often helped with dinner prep and even learned how to cook some of Izuku’s favorite meals. You and she would sometimes watch cute rom-com movies together while her son was out training, or just look through old photo albums and reminisce on days gone by.
She was such a kind and caring woman, and you could easily see where Izuku got his sweet soft side from.
You were happy to have both Inko and her son in your life.
Recently, you'd taken note of how Izuku was working out constantly in some way or another. Whether it was using a hand gripper while you two studied, or doing crunches while you two discussed school projects, he was always trying to improve his physical strength, like his life had become a gym routine.
Eventually, you noticed that he was overdoing it. However, the day that you had planned to confront him about it, he came back from his usual run and told you that he planned to cut back on some of his training. You wondered what had caused him to decide that, but you chose not to question it. It was better if it was his own decision anyway.
You sighed. That boy really worried you sometimes. But you also knew that he was fully capable of doing whatever he set his mind to.
You smiled at your friend’s back as he turned to enter UA and begin his exam. You hoped he wouldn’t lose his nerve or anything, knowing that his worst enemy was often his own anxiety.
You shook your head. No. He would definitely make it. He may have been a nervous wreck sometimes, but he was the most heroic and determined person you knew. Plus, he'd been putting in so much effort into his strength training over the past few months.
Your heart suddenly raced at a memory from a few days ago. One where the grassy-haired male came back from a long run. He'd opened the front door to his home where you'd be having lunch with his mother, when you looked up to greet him. Your words faltered at the sight.
Izuku was standing there, sweaty and panting, looking a bit winded but not exhausted. He raised his shirt up to wipe some of the sweat from his brow, flashing his recently-acquired abs (which you had not known about). Damn, was he ripped now.
Your feelings for the emerald-eyed boy had started becoming less platonic over the past few months, and it wasn't just because of his physical transformation. In fact, you figured that you'd probably been steadily gaining feelings for the boy for a while.
His determination was contagious, and you’d noticed that he was gaining confidence in himself too. Towards the end of your 3rd year in middle school, he no longer let Bakugou walk all over him constantly, instead standing up to him in the alley next to the school, which he told you about in great detail afterwards.
You were watching him become more self-confident by the day, even if it was in baby steps. You were proud of him, and knew that he would make it into UA, no doubt.
Within 2 weeks, you were proven right.
-Timeskip- A few years later-
You were pacing outside the familiar apartment complex, waiting for the two green-haired individuals you knew so well.
It had been about 3 years since you and Izuku had graduated UA, both of you having become prominent up-starts in the hero charts, especially Izuku. You had managed to make a bit of a name for yourself, but the name “Deku” was far more widely known, and you honestly couldn’t be happier to see your best friend succeed.
However, you noticed that even though Izuku was getting recognition, he didn’t have enough money yet to buy his own place and instead had to live with Inko in his childhood home.
You had noticed during your last few visits that the paint on the walls was chipping a bit, and the kitchen which had always been small seemed even smaller, now that Izuku was a full grown adult man with rippling muscles he had gotten from his training and hero work. The plumbing sometimes acted up too, and the Wi-Fi was always jamming.
You wanted to help the small family that had been so wonderful to you for so long.
So, you decided to use some of your wealth to buy them a new house. Fully furnished to their tastes, with a high-tech in-home gym and sizable kitchen. It was a big house, but you wanted to show your gratitude.
You paid in cash and even made a deal with the bank for a lower mortgage, getting a hero discount. You made sure everything was in order, and that all that had to be done was have Inko sign the last few pages of paperwork.
The doors to the familiar apartment opened, revealing the mother and son.
“Is everything okay?” the younger of the two asked as they both approached you, the male's expression being on the verge of worry.
Classic Izuku. Always a worrywart.
“(Y/n)? What is this all about, honey?” the older Midoriya asked, tilting her head slightly in confusion. You had called out of the blue and asked her and her son to meet you outside, saying you had a ‘surprise’.
You smiled and motioned towards the large black car behind you.
“Everything is fine ‘Zuku. And don’t worry, you’ll see!” you said excitedly, ushering them into the vehicle.
Both of the mossy-haired adults looked at each other with perplexed looks before doing as you asked and getting into the car. You hopped in as well, facing them.
“We’re all good, Tanaka. Please take us to the place.” You said cryptically to the driver on the other side of the partition.
The elderly man nodded with a smile. “As you wish, Miss.” he said.
The drive was only about 10 minutes away (you didn’t want them to have to learn a whole new town or anything), and was quiet. You were buzzing with a mixture of nerves and excitement, hoping they would like it.
Once the car stopped at your destination, Tanaka stepped out and opened the door for you all.
You stepped out first, wanting to present the gift properly. You then gave Inko a hand as she stepped out of the black vehicle, thanking you kindly for the gesture. Izuku then got out, using his hand to block out the sudden brightness of the sun.
The Midoriyas soon looked up at where you had brought them.
Their jaws dropped to the newly paved driveway.
The house was more like a mansion. It was European in style with a grey shingled roof, and two floors (as well as a basement where you had put in an entertainment center). The outside was painted a wonderful shade of baby blue, with white paned windows and a full veranda that wrapped around the house. There was a sweet two-person white-painted porch swing and a couple of rocking chairs too.
Inko was the first to speak up. “(Y/n)? What is this?” she asked dazedly, still marveling the beautiful home in front of her. It was like someone had taken her idea of a dream home and made it real.
You smiled and walked towards the woman. “This is your new home. If you’d like that is...” you said softly.
Both of them turned to you with eyes as wide as dinner plates.
“WHAT?!?!” they asked at the same time.
You chuckled a little. “I said this is your new house, if you want it to be. I’ve taken care of the payments and furniture. I’ll call movers to gather your things from the apartment if you want. Everything is set for you to move in today if you chose to. I know I'll never be able to thank you for everything; your kindness, your attention, your care... But I hope that you'll love it.” you said, handing the keys to Inko.
The woman burst into tears as she hugged you tightly. She normally would’ve fought you on this, telling you that you shouldn’t have done such a thing. But she saw the look in your eye when you presented her with the key and knew there was no winning against you once you set your mind to something. So, she simply accepted the beautiful gift that you’d so graciously given her and her son, vowing to make you a beautiful feast when next she had the chance.
Izuku stepped forwards, his eyes watery.
“(Y/n)…you didn’t hav-” he started, before you cut him off with a shake of your head.
“I wanted to. You two have been so great to me all these years and I wanted to show my gratitude as best I could.” you said with a grin, letting go of Inko as she slowly stepped towards the large house.
Izuku stayed behind, hugging you tightly. “You’re really amazing, you know that?” he said sincerely as he rested his cheek on your head.
You suddenly felt a surge of confidence course through you. “You’re even more amazing, ‘Zuku. I...I love you.” you said, nearly hesitating.
The young man pulled back with a soft smile. “I love you too, (Y/n). I have for years now.” he said in a gentle tone as his eyes softened into a lovesick expression.
You leaned up and kissed the man, relishing in the taste of spearmint on his surprisingly soft lips.
He smiled into the kiss as he pulled you closer, happy to finally be able to let you know how much you meant to him.
-THE END-
A/N: This was my first time writing for Midoriya, so let me know how it turned out. Thank you for requesting this Anon! Anyway, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it!
#midoriya izuku#midoriya x reader#inko midoriya#bnha x reader#bnha#mha#mha x reader#fem reader#rich reader#izuku midoriya#izuku midoriya x reader#deku x reader#deku#fluff#izuku fluff
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The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 6)
Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Swearing, mild smut, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse (wow a lot)
Part Summary: The aftermath of the bonfire is pushing you to your limit. Meanwhile, JJ is slowly losing himself in his grief.
Masterlist
You and Topper meet your friends at the Ocean Club for lunch as arranged over text after the chaos at the Boneyard. You, Rafe, Rhett, Kelce, and Topper are all gathered around the table on the patio of the club. Despite looking put-together, you're all discombobulated in the head. All of your Kook friends are startled, to say the least by the events. More than half of them have never been close to a gun and all of them share a hatred of Pogues.
Your brother Rhett invited his "friend" Crystal. She's been fawning after him since their freshman year. They hooked up one time and she was practically picking out an engagement ring. She hangs around Rhett, Rafe, and all of their friends, hoping one of them would show a slight bit of interest. Her bottle black hair and bottle tan scream more New Jersey than OBX, but she throws on a Lily Politzer dress calls herself a Kook. She's always been low-key intimidated by you and envious even. She wants your title of the Princess of the OBX, but she struggles to get past being an associate. In summary, Crystal thinks acting like a stuck-up brat is how to be a Kook. She's delusional.
"Last night was unreal,” Kelce exhales deeply as he leans back in his chair.
“You know how Pogues can be,” Topper remarks bitterly, placing his arm across your shoulders.
"Where were you last night?" Rafe questions your brother from down the table.
"My dad had me in Charleston on business," Rhett explains with a roll of his eyes.
Crystal places her hand on Rhett's arm, giving it a supportive squeeze. The sight nearly makes you gag. Never in a million years will you call her your sister-in-law.
"Lucky you," Kelce chuckles.
"Yeah you really dodged a bullet," Rafe makes a pun.
"Nice Rafe," Topper nods his head slowly, giving his friend a disapproving look.
You toss around bits of lettuce around your salad, not exactly hungry. You wouldn't be here right now if Topper didn't already say you two were coming. It's not that you dislike your friends. You just don't feel like a review of last night and a Pogue roast session. Topper notices your lack of voice and interest in the group. He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, gaining your attention. You offer him a weak smile, your mind elsewhere.
“At least Maybank has what’s coming to him. Apparently, the police are looking for him," Crystal announces to the table.
Your fork slips from your hand accidentally, causing everyone to stare at you. “Wait, what?!" You glance between the girl and Topper to see if it's true. Topper doesn't react despite seeing your worried expression. Did Topper already know this? Did he not tell you?
Rafe frowns at your reaction and his flicker to Topper before he answers. “Yeah, people told their parents what happened and the parents reported the incident to the police," he explains hesitantly.
"As they should!” Crystal adds with a scoff of disgust, wearing a smug expression. “Who knows what that good-for-nothing white trash would’ve done to us if given the chance!" She justifies from across the table.
“Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Crystal!” You snap.
Everyone's jaws drop, astounded that such a vile sentence could come from your lips.
“Ugh! Excuse me?!” Crystal gasps.
You lean forward in your chair, turning your body to face the entitled girl.
“What? Are you deaf all of a sudden?" You wear a mocking grin. "Wouldn’t be surprised with your big loud fucking mouth going constantly!”
“What’s up your ass Whitfield?!” She fires back, drawing the attention of some other patrons.
“Your piece of shit attitude!” You bark.
"Ohh," Kelce drags out.
"Wow," Rafe struggles to hide his amusement.
Topper places a warning hand on your shoulder which you shake off.
“Why are you defending him? He pulled a gun on Topper! On you!” Crystal reminds you in a shout.
“I know that, Genius! Considering I was on the other side of said gun!” You hiss between your teeth.
“Then what possible justification is there for what he did?" She huffs. "JJ Maybank is insane! A trash Pogue!”
You slap your palms against the table, making everything raddle. “No, he’s not!”
"Y/N!" Your brother warns. "Remember where you are!"
You don't give a shit about where you are! If this girl continues to run her mouth, you're going to do a lot worse than yell.
“What? What is it about him, huh?" Crystal presses with a wicked smirk. "A charity thing? Wealthy guilt? Rooting for the underdog?”
“Crystal!” Rafe barks her name defensively.
“What?” The girl giggles. "It's true, isn't it? She's got a thing for the bottom feeder!"
“Back off!” Topper warns her, finally backing you up. He may agree with her, but once she starts making digs at you he doesn't hesitate to put her in her place.
Then, a lightbulb snaps on in her head. “Oh wait... or is it that you have the hots for him? Have you officially run out of guys on this side of the island? You a Pogue whore now?” She laughs mockingly.
Having enough of her, you impulsively pick up your full glass of white wine and toss it in her face. She gasps as the liquid covers her, her mouth in the shape of an "O." The boys' jaws hit the table as all they can do is watch you toss your drink at her white tube top.
"Y/N!" Topper utters your name in shock. This is nothing like you. You never lose your cool. You're always the calm and put together one of your friends.
"You bitch!" Crystal nearly cries. "This is designer!"
You groan, tossing your head back. "Oh my God! Get over yourself!"
“JJ Maybank should be sent to jail with his dad and if he rotted in there I doubt anyone would miss him!” Crystal remarks with a snarky smirk.
That's it! Without a second thought, you fly up from your chair, causing it to toss backward onto the floor. You leap across the full table, reaching your arms out for the girl. Kelce and Rafe move out the way as Crystal screams. Glasses and silverware fall off the table onto the wood-paneled floor patio floor. Topper moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back, but not before you get a good slap across her face.
“Woah, Woah, Woah there!” He pants, struggling to get a good hold on you.
“Let me go!” You scream, wiggling in his arms.
“Nope, not letting you get arrested today,” he grunts, stepping backward away from the table.
“You crazy whore!” Crystal yells, holding her cheek.
“You’re calling me a whore? That’s ironic considering your name is Crystal! You were practically named for the corner, bitch!” You fire back, tossing up your middle fingers at her while Topper drags you toward the exit.
“Damn!” Kelce laughs, covering his mouth to hide it.
You don't care who's watching. Crystal had this coming a long time ago and she's pushed your patience to its limit the moment she touched JJ. She'll know now to never speak of him.
“Fuck you, Y/N!” Crystal screams one last time.
Rhett grabs her arm, quietly begging for her to stop. He's certainly pissed at your impolite actions and will likely run to tell your parents.
“No thanks! I’m not into insecure, loudmouth, prostitutes!” You snap out one final dig before Topper gets you out the door.
You never noticed Pope cleaning a table just yards away, you were pretty preoccupied. He watched in awe as you quite literally flew across the table and slapped a girl because she spoke wrongly about JJ. After Pope saw you with Topper, he wasn't sure what to think. He was just as confused by your relationship as JJ. The turn of events he's just witnessed sealed the deal in his mind, you're in love with JJ, whether you know it or not.
________________________________
After his shift at the Club, Pope immediately went to John B's, knowing that's where his friends would be waiting to go out on the HMS Pogue.
“You guys! You’ll never believe what happened at work today!” He rushes out as he jogs down the dock.
“All the Kooks got swallowed up by the ocean?” JJ remarks bitterly in a grumble as he lounges on the front of the boat in his swim trunks
“No!” He pants as he slows to a stop. “Y/N and Crystal got into this huge fight!”
“What?!” John B gasps.
“What do you mean? Is she okay?!” Kiara questions as she helps Pope onto the boat.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, but it was insane!" Pope laughs in amazement.
“What about?” Sarah inquires, eager to learn more.
“JJ!" Pope explains with the utmost enthusiasm. "Crystal was talking shit and the next thing I know Y/N throws her drink in her face and jumps at her. She slaps the hell out of her! Topper literally had to carry her out!”
“Holy shit,” John B mutters, wide-eyed.
“God I would’ve paid big bucks to see that,” Kiara chuckles.
“I can’t even envision Y/N doing something like that,” Sarah shakes her head in disbelief.
“I know, she’s usually so polite, calm, civilized," Kiara lists.
“You should’ve seen her guys. It was so badass. Lesson learned, don’t piss of Y/N!" Pope settles down on the bench beside Kiara.
“It was over me?” JJ finally voices quietly.
Pope hums. “Crystal wouldn’t stop and Y/N told her to “shut the fuck up.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Y/N swear,” Sarah admits.
“That’s because she rarely does,” John B adds.
“So she’s not pissed at me?” JJ questions, his tone steady and expressionless.
“Based on how she was going to claw a girl’s eyes out in your defense, I vote no,” Pope determines.
JJ stands up in a rush, moving to hop down into the boat. “Well, where did she go after that? Did Topper take her home or did she-"
“She went looking for you,” you call out from the opposite end of the dock.
Everyone's heads snap in your direction. All of their eyes are wide with surprise. They all smile, honestly glad to see you. JJ, however, just stares blankly with an unreadable reaction.
“Hi JJ,” you greet timidly, doing your best to smile but you fall short.
The boy never breaks his eye contact with you as he jumps off the boat. He marches toward you and you're not sure what to expect. You haven't spoken since last night and you wouldn't exactly call that a conversation. "What do you want? Come to gloat?" He sasses.
“Okay, that’s our cue!” John B announces, starting up the engine.
“Yep! We'll catch you guys later!” Pope rushes out.
“Good to see you Y/N!” Sarah adds.
The Pogues desert JJ, leaving you two to work out your problems. JJ doesn't even turn around or react in the slightest as John B hurries the boat away. An ounce of you wonders if it's because he wants to stay, to talk to you.
Your eyes flicker down to his chest and torso. The bruises you saw last night as a tad more healed, but still, look awful. Now that his body is more exposed, you start to notice more marks and cuts all over his arms, chest, ribcage. The sight makes your heart sink. Without thought, you place your hand on JJ's stomach. "Did Top do this?" You worry. JJ's muscles clench under your touch. The feeling of your fingertips glide across his bare torso makes him go weak in the knees.
"No, got into a fight with a bobcat. You should see the bobcat," he smirks slightly, making light of the situation.
Your face falls as your eyes meet his. "Don't joke-"
"Sorry!" He steps back. "Can't take you seriously when everything you say is a lie," he scoffs.
Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "What are you even saying right now?!"
"It was all bullshit!" He snaps. "All of it! Everything you said! You're no different than the rest of them!" He exhales deeply, taking a moment to stare at you. He immediately regrets yelling considering how guilty he felt after what he did last night. Yet, JJ's hurt and he's pent up these emotions for days now. They're driving him nuts. "You lie, cheat, you take what you want when you want it no matter the consequences or who you hurt!"
"I never lied to you, JJ!" You defend, equally as passionate as him. "Every fucking word was true!" JJ's brows rise slightly at your use of language. It appearing so foreign coming from your mouth. You sigh, "Jesus, JJ you can be so oblivious sometimes!" You turn on your heels, marching back down the dock toward the yard.
"At least I'm not playing both sides of the fence! I know what I want and where I belong!" JJ fires.
You whip your head over your shoulder and stomp back toward him. "You freaking psycho!"
"Psycho! How am I a psycho?" JJ laughs, astonished.
"You pulled a gun!" You remind him.
"He was drowning me, Y/N!" JJ screams, getting in your face. You swallow hard. Despite the intensity of your arguing, you can't help but feel a rush of satisfaction having JJ so close again. JJ looks to the side, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm not gonna be your little plaything while you wait on Topper of all people to fuck you again," he shakes his head, meeting your gaze again. "I won't do it."
Your lips part, not believing the words coming from him right now. "Fuck you, JJ," you hiss between your teeth before turning again to walk away. JJ stays where he is and watches you stomp away. A part of him wants to beg you to stay, the other tells himself that you deserve everything he's saying.
You come to a slow stop as your mind races. You're Y/N Whitfield, you don't have to take this shit, especially from JJ Maybank of all people. You spin on your heels and JJ glances up as you do. "For someone so smart you're an idiot!" You clench your jaw. "Topper is my best friend, that's it!" You reason. "Whatever Sarah told you, that was before I met you! He could never be you!"
JJ simply stares at you blankly. The silence kills you. One minute he won't shut up and the next he stands there like an idiot.
"The way I feel when I'm with Topper..." you sigh, unsure how to describe it. You're not entirely what to call it. "It's comfortable, sure, but it's not anything glorious. There's no excitement there, just a sense of security from knowing each other for so long." You hesitate to continue, but since you'll probably never speak again, you might as well lay everything out on the table right? "You don't even have to touch me, your glance is enough to make me feel alive. When I went to bed, I thought of you. When I woke up, I thought of you. You're... you're it for me, JJ. I can't imagine there's anything better than when I'm with you. But... I guess we already fucked it up didn't we?"
There's a pause between shots and you prepare to walk away from JJ forever. Then, something in him sets off and he starts rushing up to you. Startled, you begin to shuffle back.
"What are you doing?" You question, placing a hesitant hand up.
"Showing you how much of an idiot I really am," he replies swiftly as he brings his hands up to cup your face.
He pauses for a second, looking at you with hooded eyes. You lose all capability of breathing, melting into his hands. You glance down at his parted lips, waiting for what's next. JJ smashing his lips to yours hungrily. Without hesitation, you reciprocate the action, combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.
You meant every word. Being with Topper can be great and there's so much history there. Yet, being with JJ is entirely different. It's new. It's organic. It's what keeps you awake at night in the best way. You imagine exploring every inch of his body and never letting go.
JJ breaks from you, pressing his lips to your forehead as his eyes fall shut. "I'm so sorry, Baby, for everything!" He whispers against your cheek before planting a kiss there.
"Me too," you reply.
He pulls back, meeting your gaze. "I don't think you're a slut."
You laugh, "I sure hope not!"
"You're too good for me," he shakes his head as he still wonders if this is all in his imagination.
"Quite the opposite actually," you debate.
"No, don't say that." He shakes his head frantically, hating it when you speak badly about yourself. "You're everything to me!"
You place your hands over his on your cheek and plant a kiss on his palm, making JJ totally simp for you.
"Do you... would you maybe wanna have a little hot tub night?" The boy asks nervously, still kinda unsure of himself when it comes to you.
"I'd love that," you smile, wanting to spend every moment with him from this day forever.
_____________________________
Settling in the hot tub, JJ tugs at the rim of your panties, pulling you to sit across his lap. You drape your arms on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his.
"Are you warm enough?" He whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.
Hum as your eyes falls shut, pondering the closeness.
"You're so soft and warm. You're like a human Pillow Pet," he comments with a slight snicker.
"Excuse me?" You lift your head to look at him.
"Minus the furry part," he elaborates.
"You're such a goof." You laugh, placing your palm against his head and pushing it away playfully.
"Only for you, Baby," JJ grins.
You place a quick peck on his lips before shifting to move off of his lap.
JJ pouts, letting out a minor whine. "Uh uh, don't leave."
"I'm just grabbing my drink," you giggle at his childlike expression. As you take a sip from your beer, you can feel JJ watching you. You glance over your shoulder and sure enough, his eyes remain locked on your ass. "You're starring," you smirk.
"You bet your amazing ass I am," he mumbles, reaching across the water and grabbing your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"JJ!" You gasp, swatting his hand away.
He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jaw as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you back to him. "Couldn't help myself! It was practically begging for a squeeze."
"Right..." You nod, straddling his lap.
As an act of retaliation, you press your palm to the center of his boxers, making the boy jolt lightly from surprise.
"Holy shit," he swallows hard.
"Couldn't help myself, it was practically begging for it," you smirk, repeating his words.
"You're too good to be true," he whispers, bringing his lips closer to yours.
"Dido," you grin, leaning in to kiss him.
_____________________
After pondering the bliss of you and JJ finally being reunited in the hot tub, you two make dinner together in the Chateau's kitchen. You two move in sync as you prepare the oh-so-difficult meal of pizza rolls. You share a place of them while cuddling watching Goonies. During it, JJ comes up with the idea that you two should be Andy and Brand for Halloween. It makes you smile and all warm inside to hear him making plans for two months from now. It makes you fully realize how much JJ sees a future with you. Somewhere before Goonies was over, you fell asleep in JJ's lap while he was playing with your hair. The last few days have worn on you emotionally, mentally, and physically.
The Pogues came home and when they saw you and JJ on the couch, especially you, they quietly stayed outside. Except, John B lingered, smiling at the sight of his friend doting on you. He's never seen JJ be so gentle and patient in his life.
“You’re different with her," John B whispers not to wake you.
JJ glances up from observing you look at his friend with a satisfied smirk. “She makes me want to be better." His fingers comb through your Y/H/C locks, utterly content.
“I think she’s really good for you,” John B nods in agreement.
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to change, to be worthy of being with her," JJ confesses quietly as he returns his focus to you.
"You two deserve each other," John B assures his friend.
"You think?" JJ wonders, still unsure of his place in your life.
John B snickers lightly. "I mean, she did leap across a table in front of all her friends and slap a girl to defend you."
"Yeah she did, didn't she? Pretty badass," JJ chuckles, still amazed that you did that.
"She loves you man," John B concludes with a shrug.
"Really?" JJ narrows his eyes with curiosity at his friend.
"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" John B laughs breathlessly with a crooked grin.
"I thought it was all in my head," JJ confesses with a childish fall of his lips like he just learned some overwhelming news.
"It's not," his friend shakes his head, happy to see his friend finally have some hope. "She looks at you the same way you look at her."
JJ's brows scrunch together and he looks up at John B. "When you and Sarah said it to each other, how did you know it was the right time?"
"You'll know. You'll feel it," he describes confidently.
"What if I feel it now?" JJ asks softly, glancing down at you.
"Then say it. Say it whenever you can, as often as you can," John B advises before stepping away quietly to give you two time.
JJ sits with your head cradled in his lap. He's not eager to join his friends around the fire outside. He's content with you here with him, whether you're asleep or not. You're enough for him. You're everything to him.
JJ leans down, planting a kiss to your temple, then gliding his lips down to your ear. "I love you, Y/N," he whispers while you sleep.
__________________________________________________
Masterlist
Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez
#topper outer banks#topper imagine#topper obx#topper#jj maybank imagines#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank fic#jj#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx jj#rafe obx#obx#sarah cameron#kiara#pope#john b routledge
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Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments
when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???
but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.
firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.
secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:
writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.
in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.
because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.
but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.
the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.
now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.
i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.
now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!
add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.
now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.
then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.
sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.
but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.
and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.
for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.
so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.
if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.
#long post#rant#i almost deleted this#but you sent it on just the right day and instead i let loose#this is unedited and unbetaed lmao but ENJOY#or don't#whatever#writing stuff#i should tag it#writing SHIT#but that's not really a tag i keep cause who wants to keep track of the negatives#not me
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Vanilla
Kinktober day 21 - Vanilla
Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!
Note - @stargazingfangirl18 asked for soft ransom! Thanks @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @whateveriwant for their advice! Also for @finleyjayne 's rainbow writing challenge with the prompt 'white lie'. Hope y'all like it💖
Dividers by @whimsicalrogers
Summary - When you find out Ransom's been lying, you can't help but assume the worst.
Warnings - 18+ only please!, smut (m/f), ooc Ransom.
Pairing - Ransom Drysdale x reader
Word count - 2k
Masterlist is linked in the bio!
You sighed as a tear rolled down your cheek, looking at an old photo strip of you and Ransom. You had taken it in a photo booth at the fall fair, he was reluctant, calling them dumb and cheesy but he gave in when you gave him your puppy eyes.
He looked stoic in the first two, with you perched up on his lap, your arms around his neck but then he was laughing boisterously because you started tickling you. The last one was of him biting your neck as revenge.
Happy times. But they seem to be taunting you now.
Your family, even your friends, weren’t huge fans of Ransom. Your mother was actually scared he’d hit you or hurt you. But they didn’t know him like you did.
He was never cruel to you. Not even when he didn’t know you and had nothing to gain from being nice to you. Surprisingly, he was quite the gentlemen, holding the door for you, paying for your meals, even waiting for over a month before making love - you knew then you could never let go of him, no one would ever give it to you like him.
He did tend to be a bit judgmental and cynical, entitled and maybe a bit spoilt. But you accepted that as a part of him, encouraging him to work on himself. Sure, he’ll never be everyone's cup of tea, but he’d always be yours.
Or so you thought.
Dealing with Ransom required some finesse and patience that you were willing to put up because it was worth it. But you’d never put up with lies, or worse... that’s not who you were.
Ransom had told you he was going to meet up with his published to talk about his new project. Your gut told you that something was wrong. When he was late you took it upon yourself to call the publishing house only to find out he didn’t have a meeting today at all.
He didn’t have one that Sunday either, where he was for over four hours you didn’t know.
You let out a humorless chuckle at your own naiveté - who the fuck has a meeting on the weekend anyway?
You only saw what your heart wanted to show you. Maybe, he never loved you. Maybe everything you both shared for the past two years was a lie - an act.
You yelped a bit when you heard the door being slammed shut, putting the photo down you quickly composed yourself.
“Hey, babe,” he greeted you, kissing the top of your head before scavenging for a beer in your fridge.
“Hey,” your voice hoarse and croaky, you cleared your throat, “how was your meeting?” you spat. Unable to keep the contempt from your voice.
“So and so. They don’t know shit,” he twisted the cap off before he taking a long drag of it.
You gulped when you looked at his pale throat bobbing and swallowing the liquid down. He took his coat off, throwing it over the counter.
You watched his muscles flex under his tight sweater, his curious eyes watching you, your traitorous body still found him attractive. Which he was, objectively so, some might even argue that he was out of your league and not the other way around.
“Like what you see, doll?” he smirked, catching you staring at him. He stood before you, holding onto your hips.
You blinked, pushing him away and putting some distance between you, “I want to know more about the meeting.” you insisted.
“What the hell are you going on about?” He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair - messing it up. You knew it was a nervous tick of his.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about! You weren’t at any meeting were you? You were probably with some bitch,” you yelled, jabbing him in his chest with your finger, “No,” you laughed, “Wasn’t her fault. She’s not the one cheating. I should’ve known better.” you shook your head, “Everybody warned me.”
He had the audacity to roll his eyes, “God, you women - ”
“Shut the fuck up, Ransom. Now is not the time for your boring jokes. Where were you?”
“Why would you jump to the worse conclusion?!” he yelled back, his face turning red and a couple of veins popping on his forehead. “Do I not get benefit the doubt? Don’t you trust me?”
He walked towards you, making you take a few steps back until you hit the counter, tall and imposing above you. His jaw clenched shut as he stared you down.
You gulped, “I did trust you. But what explanation could you possibly have? You lied, didn’t you? Where were you?”
You watched him as he dug through his discarded coat, taking out a box and handing it to you. You knew what it was as soon as you saw it, the familiar burgundy color with the words ‘cartier’ written on top in golden cursive.
“I’m sorry,” you choked, your heart clenched in guilt. You accused him of the worst when he was just out getting you jewellery. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”
“Bit to late to be sorry when you already said your part.” he gritted.
“Sorry,” you gave him a nervous smile, “I really don’t deserve this, I don’t know what to say...”
“I was with Meg, since she’s the only girl I know, who’d be of any use. She just gave a lecture about how buying diamonds is so unethical or something, I don’t know I tuned out,” he shuddered at just the thought of it, “So, it’s not final. We can exchange it if you don’t like it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
You frowned, “Why would I need to exchange it? I’m sure it’s very pretty,” you opened the box and gasped, your jaw dropping, “Ransom... this is...” the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen. “Wait a minute, does that mean..”
“Yep,” he snatched it away from you, taking the ring out of it and then sliding it on your ring finger, “I was going to go the whole nine yards. Get down on a knee, act like a fucking Disney Prince but you don’t get that now,” he smirked, the diamond looking so pretty on your hand. “You’re stuck with me, forever.”
“Well, I’m sad that I missed out on a proper proposal but I suppose I deserve it. It really is so pretty,” you beamed at the ring.
“Don’t you dare take it off.” He held onto your hand possessively. Glad to have some sort of claim on you now that would let any unworthy asshole know that you’re taken.
You giggled, placing a quick smooch on his lips, “I won’t. I’ll protect it with my life,” holding the hand close to your heart. “I’m still so sorry. I should’ve known better.”
“That’s right, you should’ve.” he grumbled
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He’d have no problem assuming the worst if the roles were reversed. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Jutting your lower lip out and looking at him with your big doe eyes.
Pulling you by your waist and holding you tightly against him, “I can think of a couple of things, pumpkin.”
He captured your lips in a salacious kiss that was all teeth and tongue, running his thumb over the diamond.
***
“Look so pretty with your mouth stuffed, pumpkin,” he praised, choking on a moan, pushing your hot, eager mouth further down on his length.
You let out a muffled whimper, relaxing your throat so you could take all of him. Which was quite a task but you powered through, swallowing him down until your nose touched the brown patch of hair above his length.
He let out a loud, primal moan, holding onto your head and trying his best not to bust his load too soon. He pulled you off of him, getting off of the mattress, putting his hands below your arms and hauling you up and pushing you down on it. It was always fun to manhandle you like that, what with you being so small and plaint. Always ready to serve him and let him have his way with you.
You blinked up at him with unsure eyes, almost wanting to cover yourself from his predatory gaze. “St - stop looking at me like that.”
He chuckled, “You’re mine now. I’ll look at you however I like.”
He knelt on the floor, pulling you till you were on the edge of the bed, nudging your intimate lips apart with his nose. He took a long breath in, your unique scent never failed to make him hot.
Placing a flurry of kisses up and down your inner thighs, giving your a nick and a bite here and there till you were going crazy with need. Need to have his mouth on you.
“Please, Ransom,” you sniffled exaggeratedly, “Just want your mouth on me.”
“You’ve got no patience, doll.” Which was rich, coming from him.
He shook his head, teasing your entrance with his tongue. Before finally, wrapping his mouth around your bundle of nerves, sucking at it leisurely.
You pulled at his hair, pushing him closer to your heat because you needed more.
He took the hint, plunging two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out till he felt you clamping down on them. He pulled right away when he felt you getting too close to your climax.
No, he needed to look at your face as you fell apart with him.
Ignoring your whines and curses he hovered above you, pushing his tip against your entrance, coating it with your juices.
You were out of it, barely there with him, your hands loosely holding onto his broad shoulders, “I love you,” you murmured and then yelped, your eyes scrunched shut as he thursted his entire length inside you. Your nails digging into his biceps and drawing blood.
There was that delicious familiar ache at first, but you willed yourself to ride through it. It’ll feel good in no time. Except.... he didn’t move.
You opened your eyes and looked up at him to see him staring at you. You called out his name, caressing his cheek.
“Say it again,” he panted.
“Say what?” you yelped again as he lifted your hips up, his tip brushing against your spongy spot, “Oh.. uh... I love you.” you repeated.
He stayed still for a moment or longer. Still not used to hearing those words, especially said so sincerely by you. They often caught him off guard and overwhelmed him.
His hips bucked into yours as he started thrusting into you properly, his fingers digging into your hips.
You pulled him down and pressed your lips to his, swirling your tongue against his, spilling your moans in his mouths, only pulling away when you could barely breath. He did have a way of always leaving you breathless.
Propping himself on his elbows, he watched you writhe under him, your face scrunching up in untethered pleasure as you kept asking him for more. It's where you belonged, wrapped up around him. And your cavern was his rightful place, especially now that you'll be married.
“You’ve always been a, tight little thing. Squeezing the shit outta me,” he grunted as you pulsed and fluttered around him your body seized up and fell back.
He kept driving his hips into you, riding out your orgasm till ropes of his seed coated your walls, he didn’t let up till he was sure he gave you every last drop of him.
He collapsed on top of you, nipping at the shell of your ear, “Again,” he pleaded, his voice wavering with his cock softening inside you.
“I love you, baby, more than you’ll ever know,” you said, cradling his head close to you.
He hummed, pulling himself out of you, laying beside you, he admired your ring as you struggled to stay away, your eyes already dozing off.
He was proud to have bought it with his own hard earned money with the book you inspired him to write, it was sort of poetic in a way. But you didn’t need to know that or you’d accuse him of going soft for you - which to be fair he was. As his mother always says every marriage has its secrets.
Tags will be in the reblog!
Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤
#rainbowwritingchallenge#ransom Drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x you#ransom x reader#chris evans x reader#berry writes
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Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)
Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.
(Kind of an AU! I guess??)
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: angst bruh
Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing
Word count: 2547
A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!
Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)
If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)
When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it.
They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city.
Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life.
Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section.
As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist.
The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips.
Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well.
He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy.
But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.
“Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.”
And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive.
Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.”
He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.”
“Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.”
But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.”
“Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.”
He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.”
“Your point?”
“Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?”
Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’
The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was.
He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.”
“Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.”
His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them.
But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top.
She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor.
Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie.
It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different.
A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name.
For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room.
Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that.
“What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?”
What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them.
She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever.
“The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch.
“Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it.
“No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.”
Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away.
“You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?”
“No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.
But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before.
“I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.”
“Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.”
“Let me go.”
If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor.
“Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.”
“But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.”
“And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.”
This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.”
But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.”
Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.”
The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place.
“I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…”
It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it.
“No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?”
His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N.
“The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.”
He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him.
“Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland @raylovessarcasm
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished
A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D
P.S. what did ya think?
P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)
P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)
#Harry Styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles and you#harry styles and y/n#harry styles and reader#harry styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader smut#don't worry darling#olivia wilde#one direction#one direction imagine#harry styles fandom
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┗ Love- Lies- Bleeding
Pairing - Geto Suguru x Virgin!reader
Word count- 4.8 K
Warnings - Gaslighting, Corruption kink, snuff (not graphically depicted) and then reincarnation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, adding blasphemy kink just to be safe.
A/n- Geto isn't a yandere here but it's Villan! Geto we're talking about so I think his actions are pretty in line with his current canon! Personality. Though a bit delusional. This is by FAR the longest thing I've ever written.
The gray cobblestones stretching across the shrine clicked against your thick wodden sandles, the quaintness of the place only making it seem unnaturally loud. It's was a regular autumn morning, which soon turned into noon as you felt the bright sun shining right on top of your head.
Having finished your morning tasks you were returning to the main shrine where the senior priestess would give you further things to do. Just the thought of more work non stop made you sigh at your monotonous shrine maiden lifestyle but as you lamented you heard footsteps behind you, the sound of which same as that of your own.
"Hey!.....", You turned around to see your little sister huffing as she catches up to you,
" y/n! He's here again!," The implications of her words made your face heat up, sure you were still a bit green and naive, but you made sure to discreet when it came to 'looking' at that one particular man that always seem to stand out among the hoards of faceless people you saw visiting the shrine everyday.
"How many times have I told you not to phrase it like that! You'll get me in trouble with the priestess!", Scrambling to get yourself together you retort sharply.
"Oh come on! Youre the one who used to stare at him from a distance like a lovesick teenager! Atleast now you're talking to him like a normal person", In terms of liveliness the sound of your back and forth was the only thing the place had.
"Watch it! If someone hears you we'll both get scolded", gently warning her again you find yourself turning back to where she came from. The other part of the premises where the peculiar man would be standing, as usual, in all his serene beauty, on the brigde overlooking the small lake.
A man in traditional Japanese cloths that you rarely see anyone wearing these days came to your shrine everyday, without fail for the past month. Everything from his attire to his elegant long hair left you in a trance and your eyes would naturally follow him.
Something about the fact how he'd always come here but never to pray or wish striked you as odd so at first you just observed and even before completely wrapping the situation around your head you two started sharing numerous conversations of the huge world that was right outside but so far away from your reach, his words fuelled the budding curiosity in your heart, the vastness of which made your trips to the lake, the most refreshing part of your otherwise monotonous daily routine.
Even if all you did was talk, a 'supposidly' demure maiden working in a shrine, skipping on her duties and rushing to the other side of the ginormous area to see a man felt almost elicit, scary even when you consider the consequences that would come if you were to get found out. The charisma his every action held was beyond resistance and you soon found yourself enraptured by the male despite everything.
"This is so pointless" you huffed, smiling out of self pity to hide the more frustrating emotions twirling within you.
"Yet you do it everyday", with a small nudge from her elbow you made your way straight to the lake, forgetting about your obligations as a shrine maiden, the responsibilities, the restrictions and all inhibitions put upon you in the name of god.
With quick steps you soon found yourself at the base of the curved brigde,
"Good afternoon Mr. Geto", your greeting came out in a rush, trying to ignore the warmth of your face, but your attempts at hiding your flustered state didn't go unnoticed by the man in front of you.
" Seems like you've been having quite a hectic day", smiling in his usual serene way Geto gracefully turns his head in your direction.
" Not any more than usual", calming your erratic heartbeat you slowly close the distance between the two of you and stand beside him on the arch of the bridge.
" It's really nice here", He remarked, his eyes sweeping across the tiny fishes swimming near the surface of the lake. You stared at him for a little while before finally asking the one thing that drew you to him the most.
" I always wondered, why do you come here everyday if you don't even want to go to the main shrine to pray?. Surely it's not just for this scenery."
" Hmmm? Pray for what?", Not particularly moved by your question he quizzically tilt his head.
"Well.....you know, the usual, success in job, finding a significant other or maybe even something materialistic? Although I doubt you're interested in the last one", you laugh a little to take the edge off your slightly personal question.
"Dreams come true through steadily applied efforts not praying", with his sage like appearance, his words didn't came off as a shock.
"Not the best thing to say to a shrine maiden but I guess it's somewhat true", Quipping back you just looked at him with a smile, silently revelling on your familiarity with each other.
"What about you? You never look like you're having fun while working here.... As if you're the one who's not satisfied with you're job" His voice took a more serious note and asked the question you always tried to push away but for the first time, you felt safe. Safe in talking about things what most people around you would call blasphemy.
"Yeah well, I wouldn't say it's my life's calling. It's basically following the ideals that has been written by others and just blindly following them day in and day out", just as you finished your sentence you realised how shallow and sad you just sounded but the slightly widened eyes of Geto was what made you mentally kick yourself before you hastily try to smooth things over.
" But! It's not that bad! Once you get used to-", after a few lighthearted words to clear the heavy atmosphere that was building up you were cut off with one long finger hovering just above your lips.
" It's okay, you don't have to worry about being judged with me", not touching your lips he quickly retreats his hand back,
"It's only natural to question your ideals and beliefs when you actually start thinking about them, it's a proof of growing up. I can say it was the same for me as well, I had thought I'd spend my whole life sequestered in 'that' place but...." His gaze takes on a far off quality as his words fade.
"What changed then?", Without even knowing why, you urged him to continue.
"Well, I grew up and realised mine were just idealistic views, far from practical."
"Wait! How old are you now?!", Unable to ignore your budding curiosity you went on,
With a soft flick to your cheek he snorted in amusement, his low baritone made you recognise your own rudeness as you rub the non existent pain off of your face.
"It's not polite to ask strangers their age, regardless of their gender, young lady".
"I'm sorry! It's just, your answer...... Was kinda vague so...." Trailing off, the fact that he didn't owed you any explanations dawned on you making you stop. But the sudden halt in your unabashed questioning didn't go unnoticed by the long haired man so he continued, as if reading your thoughts.
"Everyone's entitled to act idiotically every once in a while but you sure are abusing your privilege", he went on, after a few words of sass.
" It took a while but, I soon discovered my true feelings about the world I lived in and how I wanted to change it", The unshakeable conviction of his voice reverberated through your ears and there seemd to be more to the hint of darkness in his downcast eyes, but further questions left your brain as you felt genuine resolve through his words.
Before you could process what's happening, Geto pulled you in close, resting his hands on either side of the brigde railings, caging you inbetween the low wall and his body.
"How about we run away to a better world together?", not waiting for you to protest he spoke. The words falling from his lips were casual enough to make you overlook the outrageousness of their meaning and your oddly intimate position did nothing to stop your brain from short circuiting.
"The decision is yours y/n but I'll be waiting anyway," his voice seems to trail a little before he bends down, his thin lips ghosting over your right ear, " you see, I hate it when even the good gets destroyed along with the bad", with that he quickly pulles his body back, letting you have your personal space again.
"I'll come back here at 8 'o' clock tonight",
After announcing that smoothly, he turns his back away and walks off to the exit, leaving you gob smacked at his confusing words.You watch him saunter off, still to awestruck to move when you finally take a note of your own unsteady breaths and face that radiated heat rivaling the sun atop.
" Who would- even go along with that crazy idea", your meek words get lost in the now empty place but the longing in your eyes to see what lied beyond your conservative lifestyle was as clear as the autumn sky hanging above.
You turn your back on the place and jog off in an effort to escape your own complicated feelings on the matter. His casually spoken words clawed at your heart, an entire different life was just one step away and it was shocking to even you how much trust you were subconsciously putting in every single word he says.
The conflicting thoughts in your head kept you busy the entire walk from the bridge to at the door of the only home you had known for so many years and never once your feet held such hesitation as you entered the building to continue the tasks you had left behind for the momentary change you craved so much.
The evening passed by in a flash, the thumping of your heart only getting louder with each passing hour. You just got out of your bath and were getting ready to help with dinner when you heard two voices coming form one of the senior priestess's room
"I saw her talking to a man, he didn't looked like a -", their words weren't clear but one thing was. Their topic of discussion was you.
"No he was wearing a hakama", it was getting harder and harder to breath with every second. If they were to tell that to your other supervisors then it would become very difficult for you to live here.
"So he could be from a neighbouring temple, maybe just asking about something general?"
"But weren't they standing too close?"
Listening in from behind the door all you could make out was that they clearly saw you and Geto, but one thing was certain. You were about to be very strictly reprimanded for just having curiosity.
Before you could even think up of some excuses to get yourself out of this mess the previous offer of his night time rendezvous flashed in your mind. It got you thinking, if you were going to be made to stay under supervision for a while anyway then the least you could do was to meet Geto one more time so as to let him know that his idea was indeed crazy and that life wasn't that easy for you to give up on everything you've done until now just on a whim.
You couldn't exactly get to a proper conclusion, sure leaving seemed like the better option but the fact that you'll be heavily dependent on Geto for everything didn't sit will with you either. It's not like you had any other skills or connections and even if he said he'd take you with him, you weren't fully ready to trust him on that. Why would you? It's not like you two were connected or related in any way.
The meeting time was approaching fast and since it's dinner time soon most of the girls would be around the dining area to help. It was the perfect opportunity to slip out unnoticed and come back after explaining things to the kind person who brought a few extra colors in your dull life.
Shakily you made you way to the back door, knowing full well you're about to commit another offense.
In a few minutes you reached the bridge, it was empty right now, indicated that your are ether early or that maybe Geto was actually just messing with you and oddly enough you felt your stomach drop at the thought of the second option.
But before you could overthink out the negative options you sense eyes on your back and whirl around to see a happy looking Geto strutting towards you.
" I take it you have decided to entrust yourself to me?", Greeting you with his self assured words he smiles amicably at you.
" Actually- I've decided to not leave", you say, with both sadness and regret in your voice.
He listenes to you in silence, his face doesn't look convinced no matter how much you explain but he never interrupts you until you're finished.
" So, Is that what you really want? To rot in a place which binds you to unnecessary obligations?", He blankly says, after you're done.
"It's only natural to lose something in order to attain greater things y/n", steping in your personal space again he peers at you face, his eyes were slited enough to hide their true intentions yet leaving just enough space for the moonlight to give them an otherworldly glow.
His beautiful face just centimetres away from yours and before you can finish he grabs you by the chin and delivers a mind blowing kiss.
This wasn't good for your heart. Your previous resolve was melting, just like the rest of you. Geto quickly slipped his hot tongue inside your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of it.
"Why are you going so far?", You ask, still not entirely convinced.
" Because we are the same, that's why I know what you want and I can give that to you. So trust me okay?", A few seconds pass as you both stare into each other, when you finally heave a sigh of defeat.
" I do want more than just a life of modesty,", having changed you decision yet again you look up at the man in a renewed resolve.
"That's my girl!", Almost excitedly he envelopes you in a warm hug,
"Well y/n? How exactly do you want to celebrate your new found freedom? ", giving his words a suggestive tone he leaned forward to press his lips against your ear, placing light kisses up and down its lobe.
A surge of heat runs through your confounded heart, voice raspy as you reply " Ofcourse I want to do it with you", the snickering above you made you realise the innuendo your words held,
" I meant the celebration! It as in the CELEBRATION OKAY?!", Frantically, you push against his chest to break your embrace, trying to explain the simple meaning behind your previous words but even so, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that the thought of sleeping with him never crossed your mind.
The unmarried virgin criteria you had to fulfill in order to be a shrine maiden was in the past now. So you couldn't find any reason to hold back now.
" I'd be an honor," Geto's melodious voice reverberated through the entire room and you whip your head upwards to look for the confirmation you needed.
With minimal amount of words Geto took you to a near by cottage, saying he atleast wanted your first time to be in a proper place. You thought he was staying at just a room in that cottage but it turned out he had rented the entire place.
For you, it was quite a luxurious thing, while it was something you'd love to revel in, you had other, more important matters to give your attention too.
With a soft click, Geto opens the bedroom door and ushers you in, you breathing coming out irregular, and you were almost shaking in both excitement and nervousness.
What if he doesn't like how I look like naked? Would he like it better if I had shaved? Wait- I hope I'm not wearing my ugly panties today!. While you were freting the small details, the long haired man quietly made his way towards the bed, where you sat, buring his face at the crook of your neck as his arms wrap themselves around you.
"White suites you",His voice rumbled in your ears, his tone as smooth and sweet as honey when he slipped his hand inside the collar of your top, parting the neatly tucked fabric until your chest was exposed. The sudden contact with the air and his hands made your nipples perk up. He fondles them a little while kissing up your neck and shoulders.
Slowly he undos the cloth belts that tied your red hakama to place and eventually you feel them loosen up and then down to the ground, leaving you in just your open white kosode.
Being so exposed in front of a man and that too for the first time made you instinctively cover your chest and crotch, but it was pointless really, because even your hands couldn't hide the dampness of your panties from the sharp eyes that seems to look straight through your meek attempt at modesty.
"Come on, show me everything", his eyes met yours, all attention on you and it was almost disconcerting how vulnerable his eyes made you feel.
Felling a warm rush of blood to your face, you slowly loosen the grip of your hands around your body, letting Suguru pry them off until they rested limply on your sides. Slowly you lie down flat on your back, shyly looking away.
"Getting embarrassed is fine, but there's no need to hid yourself, It's only natural to want to look at your lover's body",He says it with such low, sweet, seduction that your toes curl in response, the word 'lover' ringing in your ears sent your heart in a frenzy.
Slipping the rest of your garments off of your shoulders he gently kisses your ear, licking the contours of your jaw and all the way to the hollow of your throat. His mouth nibbed at the skin beneath as his smooth tongue caressed the marks it left behind.
Soon he latched his lips onto on of your nipples, his teeth grazing the hardened tips pulled a few moans out of you, his long hair tickled your skin wherever they fell and it took everything in you to stop yourself from grabbing onto them.
Moving lower, he soon reached your pussy, already dripping with arousal. You felt his breath on your folds as spreaded them with one of his hand and gave the smooth space inbetween a long lick.
Sucking on your clit with fervor, his arms around your hips traced it's dips and curves as he delves deeper into your moistened sex. Your moans were inevitable at this point, the feeling his mouth in the most intimate part of your body was making you shiver in ecstasy but as soon as he brought his hand near your hole you felt your thighs clench.
"Don't worry I'll only use one finger at a time to get you all nice and ready for later" Gentle reassurances flowed naturally out of his mouth as he covers his fingers in your slick before spreading your pussy more.
His digits push past your folds and buries themselves deep into your throbbing pussy, the sensation of being penetrated both new and arousing. Geto slowing moves his finger in and out as his tongue latches on to your clit again.
The sensations of being licked and fingered together intermingled in your body, bringing you closer to your release in no time. Although it was a good thing you didn't wanted to end it so quickly. He was undeniably good with his hands, knowing when exactly to add another finger or when to curl or rub them inside.
Maybe it's because it was your first time but the onslaught of your orgasm leaves you shaking and moaning wildly in the most unladylike ways you have ever acted. It was embarrassing how much you ended up enjoying while Geto did all the work.
Though he pushes you to your limit you can't help but want to watch his every movement, anticipation building inside you when he raises his head and props himself on his knees to get a better look at your blissed out face. You let out a sigh of longing as he bought his glistening digits to near your face as a proof of you how good he made you feel.
" I'm glad you like it honey", his voice dangerously seductive, he licks his fingers just as erotically, making you embarrassed.
" Let's move onto the part where you cum on my cock now shall we?", His crudeness may have been shocking but right now all you cared about was the cumming part so you let him manhandle your throbbing form until he properly lines himself up against your hole.
Suguru didn't removed his cloths fully, just loosened his hakama just enough to whip his member out.
" Deep breaths now y/n", his gentle guiding eased your mind, and so you relax your body to take him in because even if it's your first time, you were pretty sure he was big enough to make anyone ache.
A warm tingling pain tears through your core which soon mealted into something more euphoric, unbearably good even, making you cry out in ecstasy. He filled you up to the brim and you wondered how bad it will ache tomorrow. As soon as he bottomed out in you, the entire aura of the person about you changed and the room felt like it dropped a few degrees in temperature.
It was not what you'd expected as your first time. Not the painfully rough speed he started with. Not the large hand around your neck that threatened to cut off your air supply. And certainly not the cold, detached look in his face.
Even when your breathing was getting shallower by the second you still writhed in pleasure. It was alarming as to how much you were willing to entrust your entire self to Suguru who was nothing if not composed, keeping his hand firmly around your neck while thrusting his member in and out of your pussy, fucking you like some sort of rag doll.
Long gone was the mild mannered person you looked up at with heart eyes, maybe he was just different in bed, that's what you wanted to tell yourself but the lack of consent and the level of his roughness kept you from doing so.
He eventually let go of your neck, only to flip you on your stomach and shoved his cock inside from an even deeper angle. He didn't let you tap out until you came twice, with your third orgasm approaching just as fast.
The sumptuous heat from his body lingers on yours for sometime even after he pulls himself out
And you felt that the longer you stayed in his embrace, the more darkness seeped into you which would surely make you go numb eventually
You wanted to ask Geto what was happening but a few broken screams were the only thing you could make out, everything was sudden, how the pain made your vision go white to then pitch black and as your consciousness left your body all you could hear was Geto's calm voice.
" Next time you wake up, well be in a better world"
The few rustling sounds of fabric brought you back to the waking world, the dark blue skies outside with flashes of gold inbetween told you it was just the crack of dawn.
You slowly prop yourself up in a sitting position to look around the unfamiliar room.
You catch your reflection in the nearby window next to your bed, you looked the same save for the few indecipherable marks here and there.
" Good morning y/n", Quickly looking at your right, you see Geto just walking out of the bath, his mascular form only covered by a thin cottan kimono.
He was behaving normally, as if the events of last night didn't happen. So normally that you were starting to think you may have hallucinated the whole thing.
Walking towards your sitting form, Geto bends down to cup your jaw and layers his mouth on yours, the scent of his shampoo tingling your senses almost made you forget about everything else.
He breaks the kiss, gazing at your downcasted eyes, the heat from your face made him chuckle.
"Quite an innocent reaction considering all the things we've done", he smirks triumphantly at you, his eyes a mix of dark but intense passion. All the things huh. You thought. Your mind was still in a haze and it was talking longer to process your words and thoughts.
"What happened last night?, I can't remember everything properly", you were expecting straight answers, that how did you passed out or where you exactly were right now but Geto seemed to go off on his own tangent.
You were just like my past self,", were, he said. As if you're something else now. The man in front of you was changing his colors faster than you could comprehend his words and it was terrifying you.
"That's why it's my duty to show you everything that life has to offer, the entire extent of it. As long as you stay by my side.", Not paying an ounce of attention to your shocked state he want on,
" The people you were staying with before were only going to confuse you further, that's why I had to take you away".
"You are the most free and safest at my side, darling. But if you still want your preistess life back then, I'll be your god and you can spend the rest of your life worshipping me instead"
Of course, he didn't saw you as an equal who could stand beside him, you weren't even his lover, just someone below him who he needed to worship the ground he walked upon in. But even so, the fear you experienced just a few minutes ago dissipated, bringing back the curiosity that was at its height whenever he was around.
"Were you lonely?",Geto's eyes trailed up and down your face which halted in their track after hearing your words which oddly resembled pity.
" What-", the previously composed and slitted eyes expanded a little before his expression abruptly shifts, turning serious, making you flinch under its sharp gaze, the animosity that surrounded him contrasted with the previous tender kisses and touch.
With his one large hand he grabbed your face from the base of your jaw, painfully lifting it up until your entire body was a few centimetres above the surface of the bed.
" Listen up y/n, I didn't brought you here to dote on you and the only reason I wiped out your silly little shrine because I can't stand hypocrites who spread false teachings written by equally hypocritical people. It was your job to worship things you couldn't see before and now you have to do the same job for someone you can see. That's. All."
"Ofcourse, leaving isn't an option.I've turned your body into a reincarnated curse. If any of the Jujutsu tech people caught you roaming around, it'll be instant exorcism for you." He lets go of your face and sits next to your form, Geto was quite for a while, giving you time to sort out your own feelings on the matter.
You knew what was happening now. Inbetween those conceited words flashes of the warm blooded man behind the god slipped out and you had to resist the overwhelming urge to comfort the person who just confessed to have burnt down the shire you were living in just until a few days ago. Maybe your thought process was altered just like the rest of you body, or maybe you were always this crazy too.
The source of your sympathy was unknown but the twisted obsession of his was provided you with more solid answers.
Your meeting, the conversations, how you eloped together. All of it made sense now. He wanted to save you from the oppressive state of the place you had spend most of your life in, ofcourse he would. He was thinking of you in ways no one ever had. He loved you in ways no one ever will, or could for that matter.
And you,
You loved him too. You had to.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#smut#Jujutsu kaisen geto Suguru#suguru geto#geto suguru x reader#geto#jjk geto suguru#geto Suguru#Jujutsu kaisen x reader#Jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#geto Suguru smut#my writing#tw: Gaslighting#jujutsu kaisen scenario#jujutsu kaisen scenarios
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gotta get him out my hair
this was supposed to be much shorter lol
words: 1.2k
cw: fem!reader, sfw, breakups, implied reconciliation, idk this is just cute lmao
part two
You knew you were being petty but that never stopped you before. Every girl is entitled to a night spent in their bathroom, scissors in one hand and hair dye in the other. The frustrated tears in your eyes were just the icing on the cake.
Your hair was always long. It went all the way down your back and was thick and hard to manage. You had entertained the idea of cutting it for a long time, the idea of not having all that extra weight on you was always tempting. But your boyfriend loved your hair. He’d spend hours running his fingers through it when you two were cuddling or absentmindedly start braiding it while you were talking. You started growing it years before you started dating — back in middle school when you overheard him and Yaku talking about their preferences, “There’s nothing prettier than a girl with long hair,” since then you’ve made sure your hair was always long and luscious, no matter how hard it was to maintain.
But Kuroo’s not your boyfriend anymore. After months of feeling neglected, forgotten dates and anniversaries, you dumped him a few weeks ago. Volleyball was important to him, you knew that, but it got to a point where you weren’t sure if he was ready for a relationship so you broke it off.
You weren’t expecting him to cry or get upset but you were hoping for something! You two were together for nearly two years! But when you told him that you two were through all he did was chuckle as if you weren’t being serious. Even when you showed up to his house to return his things, he still rolled his eyes, mentioning that you can keep them.
If he doesn’t believe me just wait until he sees this. You thought to yourself. Once he sees that you’ve gotten rid of the hair he adored so much, he’ll know you mean business. You two are over.
Walking into school the next day, you felt free and much, much lighter. You didn’t know how many inches you cut off last night but the results came out better than you expected. Your hair fell just past your chin and was dyed blue. (Kuroo’s least favorite color, of course) Why didn’t you do this a long time ago? You were in love!
As you approach Kenma to give back his class notes, he does a double-take. “Oh, that’s different.”
“Good different?” you ask, maybe this was too drastic.
“Not like that!” Kenma sputters, worried that you might’ve taken his initial reaction the wrong way. “I just wasn’t expecting it. It looks nice — you look nice, y/n.” he smiles nervously, taking the notes from your hand.
You can’t help the smile on your face, “Thanks, Kenma.” The two of you continue making small talk, walking through the hallways when you hear that familiar, booming voice. Before, Kuroo’s heavy footsteps would have made you swoon but now all you feel is irritation.
“Kenma! We’re starting practice an hour early today, don’t be late!” Kuroo says, slapping Kenma’s shoulder. He snickers when the setter elbows his sides. But then his cat-like eyes look in your direction, narrowing in on your hair. Once again, Kuroo doesn’t give you the reaction you’re expecting, just a smirk. “Busy night, kitten?”
You scoff, brushing past the two of them, telling Kenma you’ll see him in class. You had to leave before your cheeks turned red. Why did he insist on calling you that? You weren’t with him anymore, no matter what he thought.
And why didn’t he hate your hair? Not that his opinion mattered or anything. You did this for you! But...a reaction would have been nice.
The rest of the day went by somewhat smoothly. Thankfully, you and Kuroo aren’t in the same year so your interactions with him are limited. But there are those few moments when you see him in the halls and each time, he’s staring at you, making small comments. You’d be less angry if he were taunting you, at least you’d know that he’d hate your hair. But no, he was flirting with you, like he always did.
“There’s my feisty little blueberry,”
“And how are you doing, kitten?”
“Don’t forget to drink water, love.”
Your only solace was knowing that he’d be at practice after school. You were cooped up in the library, surrounded by books. Exams were coming up and, now that you’re not obligated to go to volleyball games anymore, you had a lot of free time. A few hours had passed and you could feel your eyes getting heavy as you tried to concentrate on the words you were reading.
“I could always tutor you in science,” you didn’t have to see who it was. His tall figure loomed over yours. Groaning, you look up and see a sweaty Kuroo in his gym clothes. He must be on break.
“What do you want?” you whine, wondering how he found you.
Kuroo laughs, taking a seat without asking and taking a swig from his water bottle. You try to ignore the muscles in his neck, blocking his view with your textbook. “Just wanted to check up on you, kitten. What’s up with the new hair?”
You could just ignore him until he has to go back to practice but you find yourself answering. “I’ve wanted short hair for a while,” you admit, doing your best to not look in his eyes. “But something stopped me from cutting it.”
You couldn’t see but you can feel Kuroo’s shit-eating grin. You shouldn’t have said anything. Kuroo’s always had a big ego and now he knows that he’s the reason you changed up your look. Nice going, idiot.
“For what it’s worth, you look beautiful, kitten.”
“You don’t have to lie, Tetsu. You hate short hair.” you snap, letting the textbook fall to the table. “I did it because I wanted to. I like it and that’s all that matters.” You glance over at him and he’s staring at you like he always does — like you’re made of magic. It should make you sick but you’ve missed it.
“I’ve never lied to you, baby.” he says seriously. “If you’re trying to make yourself look unattractive to me try harder. You could shave your head bald and I still wouldn’t care.”
“Don’t tempt me…” you cross your arms against your chest but it’s still not enough to break him. “And stop it with the pet names. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”
The ever-present grin on his face never falters. He glances at the clock on the wall, realizing that he needs to get back to the gym soon. “Maybe not right now, but you will be.”
You open your mouth to argue but nothing comes out. For the first times, he’s actually got you speechless. Kuroo reaches over and runs his fingers through your blue locks. “Practice ends in two hours if you want me to walk you home.” is all he says before leaving the library.
Maybe not right now, but you will be.
Why did you get the feeling that he might be right?
#haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo imagine#✨#✨kuroo
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