#pls the way he stares at her lips after she grabs his scarf? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ve1vetyoongi · 4 years

Text

heart of gold (blades of ice) | ksj

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst.

Au: christmas!au, figure skater!oc, hockey player!seokjin

Word count: 20k

Summary: After a fall during figure skating practice dashes your dreams of competing at nationals, you vow to hang up your skates for good. That is until you cross paths with Kim Seokjin, captain of the ice hockey team, who is determined to get you back out on the rink and melt the ice in your heart.

Warnings: unprotected penetrative sex (don’t risk it protect ur biscuit kids), fingering, nipple play, handjobs, fluffy smut, mentions of panic/anxiety, cavity inducing fluff, all the cheesy Christmas cliches we know and love and also probably a number of terrible skating/ice hockey inaccuracies pls forgive me lol i tried.

Disclaimer: although some parts of this fic take place when the characters are teenagers, all smut takes place when they are legal, consenting adults!

A/N: hello 🥺 it’s been a while but i finally finished writing this fic for @jamaisjoons’ 12 days of bangtan collab! (link to be added bc tumblr sucks) I had so much fun writing something fluffy for a change (although there’s some angst in there too for all you sadists who ask me for more of that) and it really got me into the Christmas spirit this year so i rlly hope it can do the same for you 🥺🎄 a big merry Christmas to all of you guys, thank you for being here with me through 2019 and pls don’t forget to check out all the other amazing collab fics!! all the love hehe ~ 💞

You spot your best friend Seulgi sat on the bleachers immediately. Her red hair stands out like a sore thumb against the white glare of the campus ice rink.

It's mid November and the cold wind that whispers over your skin as you watch skaters glide past on the ice paints the tip of your nose a rosy pink, even with a scarf wrapped tightly around it. Seulgi doesn't seem bothered by the temperature, wearing nothing but a pale blue bodysuit and tights all while stuffing her feet into a pair of polished ice skates nonchalantly as you climb the steps.

Seulgi doesn't even have to look up to know it's you when you slump down beside her. You've been best friends since the age of five and she would recognise the frustrated sigh you let out beside her in an instant.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice quips, chastising enough to finally pull your eyes away from the rink. You don't respond, stubbornly slinging your chapped hands into your coat pocket and avoiding her gaze until you feel a gentle hand on your arm. "I thought you said you weren't going to torture yourself anymore, Y/N."

You finally turn to look at her. There's a flick of silver liner on her lids that sparkles like tiny snowflakes against her dark lashes. She looks like she belongs in one of those figure skating magazines you used to ponder over as a kid. Like she belongs here, belongs on the ice.

You belonged here too, once. Before the accident.

The accident.

The accident that destroyed your dreams of competing as a professional skater. The one that every single competitive figure skater at the rink whispers about in the locker rooms when you aren't around. The accident that turned the looks of astonishment and wonder you used to receive as you whirled around the ice into nothing but half smiles and pity as you now stand beside it.

Seulgi is looking at you like that right now, her puckered bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she searches your face for any sign of brokenness. You focus on steadying the rise and fall of your breath, letting the ache that seems to permanently stab at your chest these days whenever you're reminded of just how much you miss skating float away with the wisps of condensation that leave your lips with every exhale of chilly air.

"Trying to stay away was worse," You shrug. "I like being close to the ice."

"That's what you said last week before you had a panic attack after I slipped in the middle of my routine," Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest. "What if it happens again?"

"I'm feeling better, really." You manage to look her in the eyes, attempting to sound as convincingly sincere as possible.

"Fine. But don't make me say I told you so." She tucks your hair behind your ear before she's distracted again. "Hey, don't look now but Jimin's heading this way!" Seulgi squeals, fixing her hair hurriedly.

She crosses and uncrosses her legs before settling into a position she deems natural and alluring, though it just makes her look stiff. "Do I look okay?"

You let out a puff of laughter. Seulgi has been head over heels for Jimin for as long as you can remember. You disapprove for the most part since Jimin has a reputation for being a world renowned ass but what with her being the most envied figure skater at the rink after winning a gold medal at nationals and him being the top ranked ice hockey player on campus, it only seemed like a matter of time before they would "team up". And Seulgi seems determined to make it happen before the year is out.

You follow her gaze to where the ice hockey team are clambering out of the locker rooms, hoots of laughter echoing through the rink as they push and pull each other playfully in their wobbly skates.

Sure enough, it's Park Jimin who interrupts your inner dialogue as he skates over to the barrier, waving up at Seulgi who grabs you by the hand and pulls you down to rink beside her despite your grumbling. Moral support, she says.

"Seulgi!" His skates crunch against the ice as he swings to a perfect stop. "What's up?"

"Not much! This is my best friend, Y/N. I don't think you guys have met before—"

"I know who she is." Jimin looks you up and down. "Skater right?"

"Ex-skater." You correct him.

"Oh that's right." There's a glint in his eyes as he pretends to pout, tugging on his collar like he wants you to think he made a mistake. Everyone around here knows about the accident so it's hardly believable. Jimin knows that you don't like him. Is he trying to get under your skin? "Whoops."

"Anyway..." Seulgi swiftly interrupts the strangely tense staring contest going down between you and Jimin, hand curling around your forearm like she's afraid you might jump him or something.

Jimin's eyes snap back to Seulgi. "So, I've been meaning to ask. Would you be able to get free tickets for me and the guys for the Christmas party at the rink next week?"

You roll your eyes. So that's why he suddenly decided to come over here to talk to Seulgi. Jimin was known for picking up girls with his sweet bargaining talk and empty promises and dropping them when they no longer had anything to offer, and this seemed like another one of his tricks — after all, everyone knows that Seulgi's dad owns the town's biggest ice rink and that tickets for the annual Christmas parade are like gold dust to get your hands on.

Jimin flashes Seulgi one of his trademark pearly grins and you can see her panties practically drop as she nods eagerly, even despite the condescending look you give. Don't do it. You try to send the words with your brain waves or something but apparently thirteen years of friendship isn't strong enough to break down the barrier of Park Jimin infatuation.

"Of course! I'll add you to the guest list!"

You slap a palm to your forehead.

"Great! I guess you could call it a date..."

Jimin's sweet talking becomes too cavity inducing to bare so you resort to resting your chin in your palm and watching the hockey team play instead.

You've seen them practice here hundreds of times so it's no wonder the brand new player sat at the edge of the ice, doing up his skates alone in a number 33 jersey, stands out to you instantly.

The whistle blows and the game starts and you gasp when you see how easily and languidly he glides across the ice. "Who is that?"

Jimin follows your gaze, resting his elbows on the edge of the rink just in time to watch the mystery player slide past his opponent before sending the hockey puck flying into the net with an easy precision. His teammates skid to sharp stops, jaws hanging open in disbelief at his skill as they fumble to congratulate him with loud thwacks to the back of his jersey.

"Who is that?" Seulgi's mouth is open in disbelief as Number 33 just brushes his team off with a humble nod, as if the attention makes him bashful, and skates to the centre of the rink to maintain his starting position for the second round.

"Him?" Jimin rolls his eyes. "That's the new captain. Can't remember his name. Don't care, honestly. Said he moved here from downtown or something, I don't know, but everyone acts as if he's an ice hockey prodigy or something."

"He's good." You jump in. "I've never seen someone make a goal that easy before."

"I just don't understand why coach chose him to be captain instead of me." Jimin murmurs under his breath, though you still catch the disdain in his voice as Number 33 makes yet another goal. "There's only one scholarship up for grabs and it has to be mine."

The funny feeling is back in your stomach again as the game finally comes to an end and the guy in the number 33 jersey disappears into the locker room. You just can't put your finger on it. Why are you so drawn to this random guy?

"Earth to Y/N? Hello?" Seulgi waves a hand in front of your face and you notice the blush on her cheeks as Jimin jogs away. "Critique my salchow jumps while I practice?"

You nod and Seulgi disappears onto the ice, taking her starting position before the music plays and she glides across the ice with ease. But you barely even feel the pang in your chest like usual as you watch her perform a routine you know you could do a million times better because you're too focused on the name that echoes through the arena as the guy in the number 33 jersey emerges from the locker room, helmet in hand now as he shakes free his head of dark brown hair.

"Kim Seokjin!"

Suddenly everything becomes clear.

5 years ago.

Adrenaline runs hot in your veins as you tip toe onto the rink.

Seulgi's dad always let you be the first to break the fresh ice in. There's nothing you love more than the first crunch of your blades against the blanket of undisturbed frost, how the coolness of the ice hits your chapped skin as you gain speed, skates gliding on autopilot like they're following the map of patterns every spin leaves behind in the mosaic of ice.

Here it's easy to forget. All that matters is focus and balance and fingertips skimming ice. Reminding yourself to push further, to embrace the dizzy feeling of flying. Getting lost in the speed and the adrenaline and the goddamn burn in your quads as you close your eyes and spin and spin, arms poised like you might take flight at any second. Like you're one with the ice.

And when the determined sweat on your brow freezes and the blisters from your rental skates gets too much, you glide to the edge of the rink and drape yourself over the barrier with a triumphant smile. Your body aches and even though you shiver there's a warmth in your chest.

Freedom. And you can never get enough.

You don't realise your gasping for breath until a nervous cough pops your bubble of serenity and you're reminded you're at the ice rink and your shift is about to start and there's a strange guy in a fur hood and mittens peering up at you with wide eyes.

What the...?

"Can I help you?" You ask.

An awkward silence stretches out as the guy stares at you quizzically for a second, eyes dragging from your skates up to your face. You see him swallow thickly when he meets your gaze.

"Me?" He glances to the left and then to the right, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red when he finds the rink otherwise derelict. "Oh, uh...I was walking by just now and I saw you and—"

"If you wanna skate you need to buy a ticket." You hoist yourself off the rink, clomping across the heavy rubber carpet towards the ticket booth in your skates like you're on a pair of wobbly stilts.

He thrusts his hands into his pockets and trails a few steps behind you, eyes trained to the ground as you lift the hatch and slip behind the cash register. "Right. I knew that."

"What size do you need?" You call over your shoulder.

"Huh?"

He's a couple feet shorter than you and his forehead barely pokes over the counter of the booth but you can still sense the confusion in his voice. It takes all your strength to bite back a smile. "Your shoe size? For your skates?"

"Oh — right! Uh, 12 please." The guy scratches the back of his neck bashfully as you hand him a pair of freshly sharpened rental skates. His hand shoots out a little too eagerly, mitten covered fingers just barely brushing yours, the touch enough to send a jolt through your entire body like you'd just touched something icy cold. You pause, your own cheeks heating up now as the fur hood hugging his ears falls down to reveal a mop of messy brown hair and a pair of gentle eyes that won't quite meet yours.

You cough, eager to gloss over the awkward moment quickly. "First time here, huh?"

The embarrassed chuckle he lets out is endearing. "Yup. Is it that obvious?"

"Kinda." A smile finds your lips as he slips off one of his sneakers and fiddles with the laces of the ice skates clumsily. "So what brings you here?"

His foot finally slides into the boot. He smiles triumphantly. "I want to learn how to do what you did."

You quirk a brow. "Me?"

"Yeah. Just now, when you were skating. It was awesome. Like you were flying or something." He swallows. "I hope you don't mind that I watched, you can tell me if it's totally creepy-"

You cut off his nervous rambling with a chuckle. "It's fine, really." It's your turn to avert your eyes now. "Besides, I'm not awesome. But thanks."

You watch the professional figure skaters that frequent the rink to practice every week with their perfected turns and toe loop jumps and hand sewn leotards that glimmer in the rink's reflection. They are poised and disciplined, floating across the rink like their skates never quite touch the surface. You are nothing like them. And you never will be.

"Are you kidding?" The guy all but splutters. "You're the best skater I've ever seen!"

"And how many other skaters have you seen?"

"Zero." His eyes glint cheekily. "But I'm sure none of them could top you, skater girl.”

You practically choke at that, face flushing a deep red as you bump into a rack of ice skating brochures before panicking and dropping to your knees out of sight behind the booth.

Way to seem natural! What had gotten into you? Idiot.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pinching your inner arm like you might wake up from a crazy dream and this whole embarrassing-yourself-in-front-of-cute-boy malarkey would disappear with it. Alas, when your eyes open you find that you are very much awake and brochures cover the booth of the floor.

Luckily, he doesn't notice; he's already getting to his feet shakily, whitened knuckles gripping the side of the booth as he tries to find his balance. You remember how it felt the first time you wore a pair of skates. How the edges dug into your ankles and every step felt like you were on a tight rope. Now they felt natural.

"Woah!" His first steps are like watching a baby deer, arms outstretched as he desperately tries to maintain his dignity and stop from face planting before he even gets out on the ice. "This is harder than I thought..."

You slowly get up from your knees, a coy smile finding your mouth as you peer over the counter. The new customers were always the best to spy on; you and Seulgi spend hours back here behind this very booth spluttering over hot cocoa at the people who always seem to fall on their asses as soon as they touch the ice. If she was here right now she'd probably say something about how he was ticking every first skater cliche box possible.

Frantic windmill arms? Check. Nervous muttering? Check. The balance of a penguin in high heels? Triple check.

You rest your chin in your palm, biting back your amusement when he staggers over to the edge of the rink and tentatively takes his first step onto the ice. His skate immediately slides out from beneath him and his knuckles turn white around his grip on the barrier as he struggles to pull himself back upright, glancing side to side bashfully to check if anyone spotted his screw up.

"I meant to do that..." He grunts, taking a deep breath as he moves closer to the ice again. This time, his first step is successful and after a few almost mishaps he seems to finally get the hang of it, pushing his weight back and forth so that he moves — albeit shakily — across the rink, gaining speed by the second. He punches the air triumphantly, letting out a long hoot of elation.

"Look I'm doing it! — wait...ah!" Despair flashes across his features when he realises his body is headed straight towards the barrier at full speed. "How do I stop?!" He cries, legs scrambling to find their balance.

"Oh no..." You wince, covering your eyes. "This can't end well."

It's too late to help him now and all you can do is wince and watch in horror as he crashes onto the ice in a pile of clumsy limbs with a grunt.

"Ouch!"

You count the seconds that he's down, waiting for the moment his head pops up over the barrier. Ten seconds. Then twenty. Thirty, and still no sign of his dazed face or choppy bangs.

Oh no.

Before you can think better of it you are clambering over to the rink and gliding across the ice to where he lays on his back, eyes shut.

He's not...he can't be...is he?

"Are you okay?" You prod him with the toe of your skate. No response. Panic courses through your veins as you fall to your knees and shake him by the shoulders. "Oh my god, please wake up!"

A lazy smile appears on his face, words a little slurred. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"

You lean back into your heels with a sigh of relief as he scrambles onto his elbows and brushes the ice chips from the back of his coat.

"That was..."

"Dangerous." You deadpan.

"Amazing!" He breathes, pure wonder lighting up his face. "I want to go again!"

Your mouth hangs open as he tries to scramble to his feet awkwardly and without success, his skates sliding out from beneath him again. He grabs at the scarf strung around your neck to try and save himself, only he ends up just pulling you down with him into a heap on the ice.

"See! Dangerous." You tut, rolling your eyes as you feel the wet ice soak into the back of your jeans. Nice, now you would have to walk around looking like you pissed your pants for the rest of the day.

He pouts, blowing a frustrated puff of air from the corner of his mouth to dislodge the bangs that fell messily across his eyes in the scuffle. "You made it look so easy! How do you do it without falling on your ass?"

You snort. "You don't. If you wanna learn to skate you're gonna have to embrace having a cold ass once in a while. Skating is about being able to pick yourself back up again each time you fall." You rub the small of your back with a frown. "Even if it bruises."

You get to your feet and reach out a hand for him to take, pulling him up after you. When he finally finds his balance you grab him by the elbow to glide over to the safety of the edge of the rink where he can't be a liability to himself. He lets out a breath of relief when his fingers grasp the barrier.

"Aren't you scared to fall?" He puffs, wiping the sweat that has formed on his brow despite the chill in the air from the ice.

"Terrified." You grin when he glances up at you through his bangs, eyebrow quirked. "But that's part of the fun."

"Teach me." He says suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Teach me how to skate." He clasps his hands together, eyes full and round. "Properly! Like you. Please?"

You let out a sigh. You barely even know this kid. For all you knew he could be a crazy person!

But something about the way his eyes shine when he lifts his hands from the barrier and manages to keep his balance makes you hesitate. You recognise the flushing smile on his face, can imagine the warm feeling of triumph thawing his chest.

Passion.

How could you say no?

"Fine. Meet me here every day at 3. And don't be late."

"Deal." He holds out a mittened hand for you to shake. "My name is Seokjin, by the way. What's yours, skater girl?"

"Y/N." You say when you take his warm hand in yours. "Nice to meet you."

Three o clock becomes your favourite time of day.

Seokjin is like a snow storm in a cup. True to his word, every day when the clock ticks over to 3PM he comes flying into the rink in a flurry of cheesy smiles and dad jokes.

And even though you make fun of the bundles of scarves up to his eyes (that his mom made him wear, as he likes to remind you begrudgingly) and roll your eyes every time he trips over his own skates or bruises his knees or falls on his ass, you can't deny the fact that you're starting to enjoy having him around.

You're not the only one who loves his company. Everyone at the rink is talking about the guy with the bowl cut who is showing so much potential. Probably because Seokjin is much better than you at making friends, instantly becoming well liked in the skating community for his humour and his up and coming skating skills. You hate to admit it but when Seokjin smiles and flirts with the pretty figure skaters from Seulgi's class it makes you burn with jealousy, especially when they titter at his stupid jokes like they're the peak of comedy.

But when Seokjin sees you tying your skates and watching from afar he always turns down their offers to buy him coffee and bounds over to you like a puppy, ready to launch into a recount of some anime he watched last night or one of the advanced skating jumps he wants you to teach him despite barely being able to keep his balance on the ice.

And that's why Seokjin makes you feel like you belong here just as much as everyone else. Because he sees you when no one else does. Because you finally have something that is all your own.

"What's up, skater girl?" Seokjin shoots you a set of finger guns when you look up from the skating magazine in your lap before he leaps over the ticket booth counter. "No customers today?"

You shake your head. Sunday's were always slow days at the rink. That's why you liked these shifts. It's peaceful just being alone with the ice.

"Guess you could say we're totally ice-olated! Get it?" He cackles as he pulls out a pair of white skates from his backpack. His parents bought them for him as an early Christmas present. They are much nicer than your scuffed rental ones and you tuck your feet under the chair so that he can't see them while he ties up his laces.

You chatter absentmindedly as you make your way to the rink as usual. It's only been a few months of lessons but Seokjin doesn't even flinch now when his blades touch the ice, immediately taking off around the rink as fast as he can to blow off some steam before skidding to a stop in a flurry of ice chips when you flash him an amused grin.

"I can never get enough of this feeling." He spins in demonstration, the ends of his hair fluttering up in the breeze that whips around him. "Can we keep learning the routine today? I think I almost got it perfect last time."

"Sure." Seokjin had begged you for weeks to teach him a figure skating routine so you showed him one of the easy ones you saw the beginner skaters perform sometimes. He was getting pretty good now, rarely falling on his butt or missing a step like before. The concentration on his face as he copies your demonstrations and the triumphant grin that replaces it when he finally gets a jump right fills you with a sense of pride.

You're about to skate over to the boom box and hit play on some music so you can go over the routine when the door busts open and in walks Seulgi's figure skating class. You instantly fill with dread as their eyes land on you, scrutinising, and you feel a heat rise in your cheeks.

"Hey Seokjin!" One of them calls — Jennie, you think her name is — as she drapes herself over the barrier seductively. "Why don't you come over here and show us what you're made of? Without your, uh, friend"

"Sorry Jennie, I'm kinda busy right now." He shouts back. "Maybe some other time."

A weird combination of envy and sadness rises inside you. "Just go." You mutter. "They can teach you a lot more than I can. I don't care."

Lies. You care so much the words taste sour leaving your mouth but you're sure the way Seokjin wistfully gazes towards the pretty girl with fluttering eyelashes who throws her sheet of black hair over her shoulder invitingly tells you all you need to know.

You sting with inferiority. You are just a rookie after all. A nobody. Why would Seokjin want to hang out with you?

With an awkward pout you take off and start skating in circles absentmindedly. It acts as a pleasant distraction, lets you breathe a little bit. Another pair of skates scrape somewhere behind you and then Seokjin's shoulder brushes up against yours. You push harder and faster but he's good now and keeps up with you easily, even as you both start panting with exertion.

"Why don't you take skating classes here like them?" He asks suddenly. "I know it bothers you. You spend so much time skating, don't you wanna do it for real?"

Seokjin's question takes you by so much surprise that you forget your balance and before you can react you're sat in a heap of limbs on the ice. You hide behind your hair when you hear the figure skating team tittering with laughter, amused that however hard you try you will never be able to skate like them.

"Because I'm not like them." You mumble. "I don't have supportive parents like you and I don't have the talent they do." Seokjin says nothing and you wait for him to leave you for Jennie instead but he just stays rooted to the spot. "Why don't you just get proper lessons if your parents can afford it? Why do you keep coming back here everyday to me?"

Seokjin doesn't respond. The next thing you know, there's a loud crash and he's throwing himself forcefully onto his butt on the ice beside you. "Whoops!" He says, putting on a show for the skaters to hear. They immediately stop laughing when he sends them a stern look.

"Because I like you." Seokjin whispers, but only loud enough for you to hear this time, making a point of rubbing his back like the fall hurt to make you laugh. "Not them."

He offers you a hand and you both scramble to your feet. The smile on your face hurts your cheeks but you can't bring yourself to let it go. And as Seokjin spins you around until your giddy and your teeth start to chatter you forget about the skaters and the inferiority and fill with nothing but belonging.

"You're getting better." You tell Seokjin as you skate hand in hand over to the edge of the ice. "In a couple of weeks you'll be able to skate without me supervising."

He smirks. "I know."

"How humble." You punch his shoulder but he barely flinches, just chuckles when you nearly lose your balance again and he has to grab you under the elbows to keep you upright. "Woah!"

When you look up you're practically nose to nose with him. His breath is warm when it tickles your cheek and you feel yourself go slack in his grip. Seokjin's eyes are filled with stars as they dip down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes.

It hits you how much you want him to kiss you. How much you want to kiss him. Although he seems to have other ideas...

"Hey, I almost forgot!" He pulls away and you let out a shaky breath, scuffing the toe of your skate against the carpet bashfully. Seokjin's face lights up as he fumbles around in his big coat pockets. "I got you something for Christmas. Close your eyes."

"Huh?"

He's practically jumping from foot to foot with excitement now. "Just do it!"

You oblige with a fond shake of your head, squeezing your eyes shut, heart fluttering when Seokjin presses something cold and smooth into the palm of your hand.

When you uncurl your fingers you find a delicate Christmas ornament in your palm that is shaped like a pearly white ice skate. The tiny boot is tied up with red and white candy cane laces and the silver glitter on the blade sparkles in the low light.

"Oh Seokjin..." You gasp, turning it around in your fingers. "It's so pretty."

"Do you like it?" Seokjin asks anxiously, searching your face, a grin appearing on his lips to match your own when you nod eagerly.

"I love it!"

"I thought of you as soon as I saw it." He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly shy. "Now you can think of me when you see it, too."

You slide Seokjin's gift into your pocket, walking beside him in a comfortable silence towards the exit. "See you here again tomorrow?"

Seokjin's hand falters on the door handle, something close to pain crossing his features. You wait for him to answer your question but he never does. Instead you're being pulled into a tight hug, his arms squeezing you so tightly you start to feel light headed. At least that's what you tell yourself. It can't be the way his warm breath flutters against your neck, right?"

"Thank you. For everything." He murmurs into your hair. "For being you."

Your arms wrap around his back instinctively. "All of a sudden?"

"Just remember that, okay?" He flashes you a final small smile before his warm embrace is gone and he's out the door and being whisked away with the flurry of snow that has begun to fall.

Seokjin doesn't come back the next day. Or the day after that. Even when a week passes by with no sign of him you still find your head snapping up each time the door opens or you see the flash of a red scarf.

"He's not coming, Y/N." Seulgi sighs, pushing your legs down from where you balance on the windowsill with your forehead pressed to the glass to make room for her own body to squeeze in beside you. "My dad says his family left town last week, remember?"

You keep your eyes glued to the path outside. If you focus hard enough you can almost see him barging through the door like he always does, making his unruly presence known by calling out some irritatingly unfunny dad joke that still managed to somehow make you laugh when he cracked himself up. Or grabbing your hands and swinging you around on the ice until you're both panting and laughing and teary eyed at the same time but you don't care because you're together.

And if you close your eyes you can still remember how it felt when he wrapped you up in his arms before he left and you wonder if anything he ever said meant anything at all.

Fresh snow has started to fall and just like that the boot prints he left behind are covered up, like they never even existed. Like he never even existed.

You bite your lip. "How could he leave without telling me first?"

"Oh Y/N." Seulgi rubs your shoulder. "I'm sure he had his reasons."

"Whatever." You jump down from the window, slinging your hands in your pockets only to feel your heart pang when your fingers brush up against the Christmas decoration Seokjin gave you.

You dangle the string from your finger, admiring the way it sparkles and glints when it hits the light, even when your eyes start to fog up with tears that just won't seem to disappear no matter how hard you try to rub them away.

And with that you drop it into a stray box of Christmas decorations and it's like Seokjin really is gone for good now.

"Y/N?" Seulgi's dad pokes his head into the ticket booth. You have to wipe your cheeks with your sleeve quickly, mustering up the closest thing to a watery smile as you can. "I was thinking about your Christmas gift. How would you like some skating lessons with Seulgi. I watched you today and I think you're really talented. Let's not waste it, hm?"

Present day.

"So you're telling me the kid with the weird hair is back?" Seulgi asks, though you can only see her eyes peering over the top of the cardboard box filled with Christmas decorations that she lugs out of the storage closet. Her dad asked you to decorate the huge tree that looks like it belongs out in a forest instead of in front of the ice rink, which is how you find yourself balanced precariously on a wooden ladder trying and failing to lasso tinsel over the furthermost branches.

"He doesn't have weird hair." You say through gritted teeth as the ladder wobbles and you miss the branch once again. "And his name is Seokjin, Seulgi."

"Same difference." Seulgi barely puffs before her foot slips and the box is sent flying to the ground in a wince worthy crash of jingling bells and cracking glass that bursts all over the carpet. "Oh shit! These were my grandmas! My dad is gonna kill me...hey, can you rescue the survivors while I go get something to clean up this mess?"

"Sure."

"Don't start on the lights without me!"

Seulgi disappears into the back and you breathe a sigh of relief when you hop down the ladder and your feet touch the ground again.

It takes all your strength to heave the box onto a nearby table, frowning when you open the flaps to find nothing but a pile of sparkling crushed glass where Seulgi's grandma's prized ornaments should have been. Rolling up your sleeves, you begin to remove the salvageable ones, pausing when your fingers curl around a familiar shape.

When you open your palm it reveals a small silver ice skate with candy-cane laces hanging from a dainty silver string.

Seokjin's gift. How did it get here?

God, you really are hung up on this guy, huh? Wherever you go these days reminders of him seem to follow. Without figure skating to distract you, you have fallen back into your old missing-Kim-Seokjin ways and you can't help but scowl at your own weakness for some guy who just up and left without a single word five years ago.

"Hello?" A voice deeper than Seulgi's echoes through the rink, followed by a gust of chilly wind and the slamming of the entrance doors. "Are you open?"

Is that...

"Seokjin?"

His name leaves your lips as a whisper but the shrill sound of the ornament falling from your shock slackened fingers and shattering into a million pieces alerts him of your presence.

Shit. Seulgi is gonna kill you.

You bend to your knees, desperately trying to reassemble the smashed shards but failing miserably.

"It's ruined." You have to bite your lip to stop angry tears from sliding down your cheeks as you stare down at the miserable pile of broken glass. All that is left of a happy memory gone forever.

A pair of boots stop in front of you and when you lift your head you're met with a familiar pair of gentle brown eyes staring down at you in concern.

"Skater girl?"

He's back. Kim Seokjin is back. And he's here!

In your surprise you accidentally squeeze the glass between your fingers too hard, hissing when you feel a sharp scrape against your palm. "Ow!"

"Hey, watch out! You're bleeding."

The last place you expected to find yourself today was cradling your cut hand behind the ticket booth while Kim Seokjin of all people rummages beneath the counter for the first aid kit. It's almost as if he never left with how easily he shrugs off his coat and gets to work.

"You still keep it down here, right?" You nod and he lets out a little ta da when his head re-emerges behind a box filled with bandages and antiseptic. "I remember from all the times I fell out on the ice and you had to patch me up."

When he sits down on the stool opposite you it's like you're experiencing a severe case of dejavu. He looks exactly the same as he always did yet somehow completely different; his shoulders are broader than you remember them and it looks like he started gelling his hair back, exposing his forehead. Your eyes can't help the way they trace the curve of his jaw, sharper now, and the ice hockey shoulder pads that protrude from beneath his winter coat.

One thing is the same though. The way he takes your wrist gently into his lap and begins to wind a strip of bandage around it with caution, glancing up at you every now and again to check it isn't too tight or too painful. He always was the kind and patient one after all.

"There." He says when he's finished, thumb running across your wrist just barely before you take back your arm sheepishly, still avoiding eye contact. "You should really be more careful. You won't be able to train with an injured hand."

You wince at the mention of figure skating. Of course Seokjin hadn't heard about the accident yet — he was living in a different town when it happened. But that didn't make it any less painful.

Seokjin frowns when he sees your face, mistakenly reaching for your hand again. "Does it still hurt?"

You take a sudden step back and his hand falls to his side. "No. It's fine." You grab your bag with your good arm and swing it over your shoulder. "Thanks for this but I gotta go."

A hand curls around your arm, pinning you in place before you can even take a step. When you turn begrudgingly Seokjin is biting his lip. "Did I say something wrong?"

A sigh escapes you and Seokjin reluctantly lets you go when you shake your arm free of his grip, finally taking a deep breath to fill your lungs with enough courage to look him in the eye.

"You didn't say anything at all. That's the whole problem, Jin." His mouth hangs open and he starts to stutter something but you put up a finger and he stops, retreating back into his seat like a scolded puppy. "You just left! Without even telling me where you were going! And now you're back here?"

"Y/N listen—"

"Why? Why are you back Seokjin?" The way your voice wavers makes his eyes widen.

He scratches the back of his neck almost remorsefully, avoiding the real question and your eyes. "I...I transferred. I applied for a ice hockey scholarship to play here. I was actually hoping I'd find you here, to see if maybe you wanted to go skating again sometime or something..."

"Listen, I don't skate anymore okay?" You scoff, turning on your heels and marching towards the exit. "So don't bother coming back."

Just then Seulgi reappears from the back. "Y/N? I found some more decorations — oh."

The last thing you hear is her voice calling your name before you march right out of the rink and get as far away from Seokjin and the memories and the longing and the hurt as possible.

November has already rolled into December by the time you see Seokjin again.

Seulgi's family's ice rink is bustling with locals in scarves and wooly hats, alive with a buzz of excitement that mingles with the cheesy Christmas tunes playing overhead and the smell of hot cocoa from the concessions stand as the town eagerly awaits the beginning of the annual Christmas parade, of which the rink is the central attraction.

The rink is decorated to the nines and you can't deny it looks breathtaking; you aren't a total grinch after all. You're almost sure that you've woken up in some kind of alternate winter wonderland, like you're a character in one of those decorative snow globes they sell at the mall and the whole place could be picked up and shaken until the air fills with Christmas spirit like the first flakes of snow on a winter's morning.

Except nothing about working the ticket booth feels even remotely festive. Your cheeks have started to hurt from all the polite smiling at even the rudest of customers and the sly side eyes and grimaces you and Seulgi throw at each other every time you see another kid fall over and need first aid and there's fake snow in your hair and tinsel stuck to your shoe.

You've just slumped into a heap on the stool behind the counter after dealing with a particularly lumpy case of motion sickness from one of the parents begrudgingly skating like baby deers behind their children when you spot Jimin and the rest of the hockey team elbowing through the crowd to the ticket booth.

You can't help but roll your eyes when you see the pair of dark shades balanced on the bridge of his nose that just look silly with his winter coat and the smug smile on his face as he barges to the front of the queue and rings the bell on the counter like a man possessed.

"Can I help you?" You ask nonchalantly, inspecting your nails.

Jimin turns up his nose. "Is Seulgi around."

You shake your head. A lie. She's just in the back taking her gingerbread cookies out of the oven so she can hand them out to the children while they are still warm.

"No. You've got me. How many tickets?"

"We're on the guest list, actually." Jimin purrs. "Seulgi said so herself."

You pick up the clipboard on the counter and pretend to scan the guest list, pushing your bottom lip out mockingly as you shrug your shoulders. "Sorry. Doesn't look like you are. Now that'll be ten dollars each or I'm gonna have to ask you to leave—"

"Pfft, let me see that." Jimin reaches over the counter and tries to snatch the clipboard from your grasp but you just end up in a childish game of tug of war. With a scoff he suddenly let's go and wipes his hand on his jacket with a scowl, looking you up and down with gritted teeth. "What is your goddamn problem, Y/N? Would it kill you to be nice to me for once?"

"Me? Nice to you?" You let out an exasperated sigh, fists clenching as Jimin's entourage begin to look nervous, some backing up and others tugging him by the arm to back down which he only shakes off, eyes never leaving yours like he's daring you to look away first. "You are my problem, Park Jimin. You think you can come in here and use Seulgi? Well you'll have to cross me first—"

"Did someone call me?" Seulgi's sugary laughter rounds the corner before she does, confusion crossing her features when she sees Jimin's tense jaw and the murder in your eyes. Not exactly Christmas spirit, is it?

"Let's ask Seulgi herself about the guest list, shall we?" Jimin's face lights up with his signature smile that has Seulgi heating up in a blush and you mentally face palming as you reluctantly hand over the clipboard and watch Seulgi zero in on the PARK JIMIN she wrote in her own curly scrawl, the 'i's dotted with tiny hearts.

"Yep, you guys can go on through." She says with a grin, seemingly too blind with love to see the I told you so look Jimin sends your way.

"Seulgi are you really gonna—"

"I knew I could count on you Seulgi," Jimin drawls. "How about we go skating together?"

Yup. That's it. Your best friend has been taken over by the love bug and nothing you say now will bring her to her senses as she nods eagerly and begins ticking each member of the hockey team off her list.

"...Kim Taehyung...Jung Hoseok and last but not least, Kim Seokjin!"

Hold up...

When you stupidly snap your eyes up they instantly meet the very pair you've been trying to avoid. Seokjin's.

There he is in all his glory, tall enough these days to see over the counter. The smile on his face fades when he notices you too.

"Y/N? Hello?" Seulgi snaps you back out of your Kim Seokjin induced trance, blushing when you realise you must have been staring and that's probably why he's fiddling with his coat zipper and avoiding your gaze. "Can you handle the ticket booth for a bit while I go for a skate?"

All reservations are wiped from your mind and you have to swallow hard before any words come out that aren't oh my god or Seokjin. "Y-yeah, sure."

"Great!" She swings over the counter. You stare at your feet, face uncomfortably hot under Seokjin's gaze. Seulgi takes Jimin's elbow. "See you later!"

"Have f-fun." You manage to mumble, relief flooding your chest when Jimin and his entourage become smaller and smaller before disappearing amongst the indistinguishable hustle and bustle.

Your breath catches when you finally lift your gaze and find Seokjin still stood frozen in the same spot, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly like he wants to say something but doesn't quite know how.

I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave. I don't think you're a freak like everyone else just because of your accident.

You can imagine so many different combinations of words leaving his lips except the ones that he finally croaks aren't quite what you're expecting. "Uh, I need to rent some skates. I forgot to bring my ones..."

Oh.

A few awkward seconds pass until you realise he's waiting patiently for you to do your job and get him the freaking skates instead of standing open mouthed like some kind of frozen ice sculpture that doesn't know how to function, and you turn a little too abruptly, eager to hide the heat in your cheeks and nearly knocking the whole rack of rental skates down in your haste.

God! Why do you always embarrass yourself in front of him?

"I need a size—"

"12. I know." Your voice sounds small as you turn back around and hand him a pair of black skates, freshly sharpened just like how you knew he liked them. Or used to like them anyway. "I remember."

Something close to pain briefly flashes over his face and there's another silence that feels deafening despite the screams and cheers of skaters a few meters away that fill the atmosphere.

He coughs when his hand brushes yours as he reaches to take the ice skates and you feel your eyes widen when an electric current runs up your arm and settles in the left side of your chest with a funny pang. His eyes slowly meet yours, soft and gentle and filled with stars just like you remember them. Your heart starts beating so fast you're sure everyone at the rink can hear it now.

You can almost hear your words from the other day echoing in his head. Don't bother coming back.

And when he rips his gaze away from yours, the warmth of his fingers disappearing with it as he turns on his heels and starts to walk away without so much as a goodbye, you realise just how much you didn't mean them. How glad you are that he's back here, at the rink, like old times, like you've always silently hoped he would be despite never admitting it to yourself until now.

That's why you can't help yourself when you swing your body over the counter and jog after him, with a call of, "Hey, Seokjin, wait up!"

He stops abruptly at the sound of his name and you almost crash into the back of him, grateful for the arm that shoots out and catches you before you can stumble over your own feet.

"Woah, be careful. You coulda got hurt—"

His arm is still around your waist when you start mumbling incoherently, out of breath and desperate to get the truth off your chest in this sudden burst of bravery before you chicken out and retreat to the bubble of timidity you've found yourself in since the accident.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about the other day I was just kinda surprised to see you again and I lashed out." He cocks an eyebrow when you finish, before you're spluttering, "Good surprised! It's, uh, good to see you again is what I'm trying to say — really good to see you."

There's another silence that feels immeasurable and you feel hot embarrassment caress your face as you scan Seokjin's features for any sign that he's going to push you away or tease you for being such an idiot that still likes him even after he left you and—

Then he's laughing. Deep chuckles vibrating against your cheek as he pulls you into a bear hug and you're smushed up against his chest and breathing in his woody cologne until you're laughing with relief too.

"It's good to see you too, Y/N." He says when he finally lets you go and maybe he's just cold but you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his own nose as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets like he can't trust them not to reach out and grab you again. "Really good."

"Hey Kim Seokjin, stop flirting and get your ass over here stat!"

Seokjin's eyes roll in unison with your own when none other than Park Jimin's voice ruins the moment. When you both turn and find him leaning over the barrier of the ice rink, beckoning Seokjin with a single finger, you cant help but snort at the exasperated sigh that leaves the boy beside you.

"Will he ever give me a break?" Seokjin mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose and mouthing sorry as he nods his head to signal for you to join him. Jimin offers you both a salute in greeting.

"Captain," Jimin practically snarls around the word, contempt evident in his voice despite the grin plastered to his face. It only grows when he turns his attention to you. "And sweet little figure skating champion Y/N — oh wait!" He must see the way your face drops because he can't conceal the laughter that bubbles up next. "Whoops. Did I say something wrong?"

Seokjin looks between you and Jimin with confusion which quickly turns to concern when he sees the way your fists have started to shake. His hand falls to the small of your back and you briefly feel all your anger rinse away.

"Lets just go, Y/N—"

Jimin seems to have other ideas. "Hey Seokjin! Did you hear about Y/N's little...accident?" He calls. You stiffen and Seokjin finally meets Jimin's gaze head on, somewhat curious. "It happened right here on this very rink. The day before nationals, right princess?" Jimin waits for you to nod before he continues. "I'm sure she can fill you in on what happened while you two flirt like school girls. Maybe then you'll understand why she feels the need to make everyone around her miserable. Because her injuries healed but she's still broken."

A gasp comes from somewhere behind Jimin and you instantly recognise it as belonging to Seulgi who has just skated into the middle of the battle ground. She's not the only one who looks surprised — a couple members of the hockey team flash you sympathetic looks. It drives you crazy. You hate being their goddamn reason to throw a pity party.

"Even after my accident I can still skate better than you ever will Park," You spit. "And don't you forget it."

Jimin's eyes glint with something dark and you swallow thickly. Oh no.

"Then how about you prove it to all of us, huh?" He smirks when you just gape at him, the implications of his words sending a chill down your spine. Jimin pretends to tap the non existent watch on his wrist when you stay rooted in place with wide eyes."We haven't got all day. You gonna get your skates or what?"

Get your skates on. Right now?

"Okay." You wince at how timid your voice sounds, not even able to enjoy the surprise on Jimin's face because of the fear tightening like a coil in your stomach as you let your feet carry you over to the rack of rental skates.

When you reach for your favourite pair — your old favourite pair — you find your hands are shaking uncontrollably. They don't stop even as you somehow manage to slip them onto your feet and clomp back over to the edge of the rink where Jimin waits with a cheshire grin and Seokjin and Seulgi rush forward to stop you from taking another step as soon as they see the way your breathing has quickened and your practically gasping for air now. When did it get so hot in here?

"Y/N I really don't think this is a good idea, you don't have to—" Seulgi starts, but you brush her off, determined to prove Jimin wrong.

Sure, it has been nearly a year since you last got on the ice without falling into a panic attack. Sure, your heart is racing so fast at the thought of the blades beneath your feet touching the frozen surface you can feel it in your throat. Sure, you still let yourself cry sometimes when it's late and Seulgi's fast asleep and you wake up from a dream where you're skating and you're free and then the icy bitterness of reality sets in and you remember that's all gone now.

But you're not broken right? You can't be.

No. I'm not broken.

You grit your teeth. "I can do it."

I'm not broken.

Your knuckles whiten with how hard you're gripping the barrier as you drag your feet closer to the edge of the ice.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

I'm not broken.

Your vision starts to blur into a swirl of Christmas lights and ice skates and Park Jimin's stupid grin.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tip of your blade touches the ice and then—

"Stop!"

An arm curls around your waist and pulls you back. You let out a sigh of relief. It's Seokjin and he's holding you upright now as you clutch your chest and try to breathe, determined to stop angry tears from slipping down your cheeks.

You're broken. Utterly and completely. Jimin was right.

"Back off, Park." Seokjin barks and you're aware of how Jimin is clutching his stomach, laughter spilling from his lips as Seulgi stares on nervously.

"Why? Because you know I'm gonna steal your scholarship at the Christmas Eve game?"

Seokjin scoffs. "Because you're being kind of an ass right now. Come on, Y/N, grab your coat."

"Why?" You manage to splutter, still needing Seokjin's support as he pulls you behind him to the locker rooms.

"We're getting out of here."

The sky has faded to a deep blue-black when you push out of the ice rink into the chilly winter evening beside Seokjin.

You pull your coat tighter around your chin, unsure if the way your limbs shiver is because of the December weather or the fear still lingering in the pit of your stomach.

Seokjin's presence beside you is comforting. It brings you back to reality somewhat. He doesn't mention the earlier tension between you, just flashes you a small smile instead. "Come on. Let's get warmed up."

The Christmas lights strung between lamp posts above your heads provide a subtle glow that makes his eyes softly gleam as he offers you a glove covered hand just like he used to, all those years ago before he left. With a shy glance you slide your hand into his, cheeks burning, but grateful for the feeling of Seokjin squeezing your hand reassuringly, grounding you like lead to a balloon.

Maybe you would regret it tomorrow when you remember that this wasn't going to last and he was inevitably going to leave you again. But old habits die hard and you can't resist the natural feeling of mutual comfort that settles between you like a warm hug from nostalgia.

Seokjin pulls you behind him to join the throng of people in woollen scarves and fuzzy earmuffs making their towards the annual Christmas market your town always throws to celebrate the holidays. The entire street is alive with joyous laughter and twinkling lights, the smell of freshly baked mince pies mixed with pine wreaths soothing you instantly.

Seokjin buys you both a cup of steaming mulled wine from one of the cozy market stalls with thatched roofs playing tinny Christmas tunes. You take it from him graciously, thankful for the fuzzy warmth it provides as you breathe in the festive aroma.

You walk together in a comfortable silence, enjoying the way Seokjin's arm brushes against yours sometimes and how he always blushes when it does. He keeps looking at you like he wants to say something but doesn't know how, resorting to sipping the hot liquid he cradles between his palms instead as if to stop the words from tumbling out without permission.

You're about to tease him for it, ask him to spit it out, whatever it is, or forever hold his peace — but then you see it.

Across the street sits a quaint shop with a SANTA STOP HERE sign on the door. It's decorated just as festively as the rest and would have blended in to the picturesque scene had it not been for the thing on display which catches your eye.

Before you know it you are wandering up to the window with wide eyes, breath fogging up the glass as you take in the pair of pearly white ice skates glaring at you from behind your own reflection. They're tied up neatly with a red bow inside the store's display and they seem to sparkle beneath the twinkling Christmas decorations like they're covered in thousands of tiny snow flakes. The sight nearly takes your breath away.

You can almost hear the way the blades would scrape the ice just the way you liked it, how the cold air would make your eyes water as they carried you around the rink. How the satin interior would never rub your toes and the fur trim would hug your ankles just right.

A pair of skates like these were supposed to belong to one of the pretty professional figure skaters you could never quite keep up with when you were on the ice, routines so rehearsed they could be free styling to the inexperienced eye, silver laces complimenting their daintily sequinned bodysuits.

Not someone who only has plain bodices and rental skates and wears ugly burns on their knees from hitting the ice too hard. Not someone like you.

Besides, you promised yourself you would never pick up another pair of skates again. What is the point in dreaming?

"So..." Seokjin starts, blowing at the steam swirling from his paper cup. "What happened back there? You seemed kinda freaked out."

You freeze. Seokjin shifts. "You miss skating huh?"

You drop your eyes to the liquid in your cup. Were you that easy to read? Or did Seokjin just remember you better than you realised?

"Mhm." It comes out a little choked but you force a smile, hoping he'll believe it even if it doesn't quite meet your eyes. "But I'm a law major now. Don't have a ton of time for competing anymore."

It isn't a complete lie. You are a law major now, much to the pride of your family who always thought skating was a waste of time anyway.

But becoming a lawyer isn't your dream. It was your back up plan. Because your dream of being a competitive skater will never come true now and you had to accept it somehow. Throwing yourself into classes and deadlines seemed like the best way to keep your mind occupied, even if it doesn't make you forget your troubles in the same way skating used to.

"Sounds boring."

You shrug. "Sometimes."

Seokjin narrows his eyes. "But I know you, remember? The Y/N I knew always had time for skating. Did...did something really happen?"

You bite your lip, glassy tears fogging up your vision. God, you told yourself long ago to stop crying every time someone brought up the accident. When you wipe at your eyes harshly with the back of your hand you hear Seokjin suck in a nervous breath.

"You don't have to tell me, I'm sorry for bringing it up—"

"No! No it's okay." You shake your head with a loud sniff. "It's me, not you. It happened a few days before I was due to leave for nationals. I was practicing at the rink with Seulgi like usual and the next thing I know I'm lying in a hospital bed with my leg in a cast." You sigh, a twinge of pain running up your leg as you remember the stiff feeling of the cast. "I don't even remember what happened, not really. Seulgi said I hit my head pretty hard. Haven't been out on the ice since."

"I'm sorry." Seokjin's eyes soften and his hand hovers over yours like he wants to comfort you but doesn't know how. "I can't imagine not being able to skate, I think I'd...I think I'd go crazy."

You shrug. "You get used to it after a while." A lie. "It doesn't matter anyway." Another lie. "Besides, it's not like I can't skate, my leg healed just like they said it would. I'm just..."

"Scared." Seokjin finishes. You feel a flush of embarrassment rush to your cheeks as you nod carefully. You've never told anyone this. Not even Seulgi. But something tells you Seokjin would understand.

"I want to skate again so badly. Like with every bone in my body badly. But every time I even get near the ice I just...freeze up like I did earlier at the rink." Your head falls into your palms, self condemnation evident in the spiteful laugh you afford to your own weakness. "Ugh you must think I suck so bad."

A group of carollers stroll by merrily and you're grateful that their rendition of Silent Night catches Seokjin's attention and covers up your embarrassingly loud sniffle.

"I don't think you suck." Seokjin says eventually, blowing on his hands to warm them up. "It's natural to be scared, especially after something like that. A wise person once taught me that even the best skaters are terrified to fall. It's part of the fun."

You flash him a small smile. The accident still feels raw though and you're eager to change the subject swiftly.

"What about you? Any grand plans for the future?"

Seokjin scratches the back of his neck bashfully. He never did like being boastful. "Took a year out so I could practice playing ice hockey. You've heard about the Christmas Eve game right? The scholarship board is gonna be there.

"Who would've thought that the Kim Seokjin, worst skater in town, would end up being captain of the team?"

He punches your shoulder playfully. "Hey! I wasn't that bad."

"You don't remember falling on your ass every time I tried to show you how to skate?"

Seokjin rolls his eyes. "Well a wise person once told me that being a real skater means being able to pick yourself up each time you fall." He rubs his chin playfully. "And something about getting a cold ass."

You scoff, somehow embarrassed that Seokjin had remembered the words you spoke all those years ago. Embarrassed at how weak you have become since then. "She sounds like an idiot."

"A wise idiot."

You shake your head fondly. Seokjin's laugh is warm and it makes you feel all fuzzy, like just for a moment the cavity in your chest is full. You realise then just how much you missed it. How much you missed him.

When you drag your attention away from the skates on display, your wandering eyes catch a glimpse of the Christmas fairground in the shop window's reflection. You let out a gasp, tipping your head back to look up at the giant ferris wheel that lights up with a million different rainbow colours like a firework against the dark blanket of night.

"You wanna go for a ride?" Seokjin asks, looking somewhat amused.

"Can we?" You're fully aware of just how childlike you must sound right know but the gleeful glint in Seokjin's eyes puts you at ease instantly, a smile lighting up his features that is brighter than all the Christmas lights around you. It's enough to make your stomach do somersaults.

You furrow your brows when Seokjin suddenly takes off into a run, scarf trailing behind him in the wind. "Last one there has to pay for our tickets!"

"What? Hey!"

Before you know it you're climbing into one of the tiny ferris wheel cubicles after begrudgingly paying for both of your tickets, the space between you and Seokjin so slim your knees touch. The ride feels shakier than it looked from the ground and you let out a shriek as it stutters to life, the cubicle rocking back and forth lightly as you begin to raise into the air.

Seokjin appears startled. "What's wrong?"

You weren't expecting the ride to go this high. Perhaps your crippling fear of heights would have been a good thing to mention before you got on.

"Falling." You manage to choke, hands gripping the safety pole so tight your knuckles turn white. "Scared of falling."

"Hey. C'mere." A mitten covered hand engulfs your own. It feels familiar, comforting. Your breathing instantly slows when Seokjin squeezes your fingers tightly. "I won't let you fall."

"Promise?" You whisper, still not convinced as you watch the people on the ground below get smaller and smaller.

"Promise." Seokjin chuckles. "Hey! Look!"

You manage to lift your gaze to where Seokjin's finger points, all fear melting away like snow when you lay eyes on the view of the town stretching out before you like tiny pieces of a toy village. The location gives you a perfect view of the giant Christmas tree that has been set up in town, decked with golden tinsel and shiny baubles alongside the thin layer of frosty snow that glimmers on rooftops and church steeples like a thousand stars.

"Woah." A gasp leaves you involuntarily. "It looks so..."

"Beautiful." Seokjin finishes your sentence with a smile but when you turn you find him staring straight at you. A blush caresses his cheeks. He coughs bashfully and you're reminded of the younger, shyer Seokjin you used to teach to skate at the ice rink.

The Ferris wheel comes to a halt when your cubicle reaches the very top. You smush your nose against the safety glass. If you squint you can just about make out the ice rink in the distance, along with an abundance of skaters gliding serenely across the ice. For a moment your heart leaps and you long to be down there, flying and spinning beside them, but then you remember the accident and you sink back with a frown.

Seokjin's velvety tone beside you brings you back down. "It's because of you, y'know."

"Huh?" You blink.

"You're the reason I started skating in the first place. I'd never be captain if you weren't such a good teacher."

You snort lightly. "If I'm such a good teacher how come I can't even skate anymore myself?"

Seokjin's smile is pitying but determined. He holds out his hand as if he wants you to shake it and you furrow your brows in confusion.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah...why?" Suddenly the cubicle starts moving back down and you are thrown into a less than graceful heap directly into Seokjin's lap. "Oh!"

"Woah there..." Seokjin's arms curl around your torso instantly, bigger and stronger than you remembered them being. You're hit with the scent of his laundry detergent and the lightly minty whisper of his breath across your cheek when you turn and find yourself nose to nose with him. "Be careful, skater girl."

A flush caresses your cheeks and this time it's not because of the cold. "I trust you!" You rush.

"Promise?" His breath is warm when it ghosts across your lips.

"Promise."

He just stares at you for a few seconds before you realise you're pressed so close to his chest that he can probably feel the way your heart is beating faster than one of those mechanical Little Drummer Boy decorations.

You cough and slide off his lap into the space beside him, muttering a few awkward sorry's and instantly missing his warmth when your fingers curl around the cold metal pole instead.

Seokjin's grin doesn't leave his face until you're both safely on the ground again and it only grows when you let him slide his hand into yours after he lifts you free from the death trap of a Ferris wheel and your boots collide with the sweet, sweet tarmac.

"Good. Because I have an idea."

"Remind me," Seokjin grunts as he hoists himself over the college campus gate, the locks and chains holding them together rattling under his weight before his feet land neatly on the other side. "Is trespassing illegal, little miss law student?"

"Very." You follow his previous actions, nimbly climbing the railings before letting Seokjin lift you to the ground on the other side. "Why are we here, anyway?"

His breath is visible against the darkening night as he pulls a key from his pocket, dangling it in front of your face teasingly. "Being team captain has some...perks."

"Perks? What kind of perks — Seokjin, wait up!" Before he can answer your question, he's already flattened himself against the brick wall with a sly smirk, looking both ways before sliding around the corner like a shitty MI5 agent. You stay put, arms crossed stubbornly, before Seokjin's arm appears from the dark mouth of the corner and drags you behind him with a yelp.

"Just trust me, okay?" Seokjin starts with a smile, but not before his face is draining of colour and he's lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "Shit! I forgot about the cameras..."

"Cameras?" You squeak, following his gaze up towards the CCTV camera pointed toward the entrance a few feet away, like it's a predator waiting to catch its prey. "Seokjin! We can't get caught, you could lose your chance at a scholarship and I could get kicked out and—"

"Chill, we've got this. I've done this hundreds of times!" Seokjin's eyes flit to the ground when you raise an eyebrow at him. "Just, you know, to practice and stuff. Not with other girls or anything. Not that there are other girls! Just you. Because you're the only girl that I ever — never mind..."

A few moments pass in silence as you just blink at him while he scratches the back of his neck. Watching him toe the dirt with his shoe sheepishly has a small smile growing on your face and all your inhibitions get thrown to the wind as quickly as your heart has started to race.

"I trust you." Seokjin looks up hopefully. "Let's do it."

He practically punches the air at your unreserved participation. "Here. Put this on." He yanks the green winter hat off his head, revealing his cutely dishevelled hat hair, and pulls the fabric down over your head roughly.

"Hey! Watch it. I can't see!"

He just laughs, thumbs pushing back the material to reveal your eyes, the fond curve of his lips coming into view when your vision adjusts. His hand pats the bobble on the end of the hat amusedly, like he's satisfied with his work. You pout. "What? It looks cute. Now come on, keep your head down and no one will ever know it's us."

You shoot a final wide eyed glance at the camera. You had already lost one dream and you couldn't afford to lose another. And if you lost it because of your own stupidity...

To your surprise, Seokjin's mitten covered hand slides into yours and its the feeling of his big palm enveloping your own that brings you back down. Something about the way he squeezes gently is comforting and fills you with a warmth that makes the December night feel a lot less chilly.

Seokjin smiles when you squeeze back. "Ready?"

"Ready."

And then, before you can change your mind, your feet are following Seokjin's as you run together in a fit of giggles past the cameras towards a back campus entrance, a funny feeling of elation fizzing through your veins as Seokjin swaps the hand he's holding so that he can use his dominant one to fiddle with the key in the lock.

"Remind me again, little miss law student." After a few tense heartbeats, the door swings open, and Seokjin flashes you a mischievous grin. "Is stealing the ice hockey coach's key so you can sneak in to the ice rink after dark illegal?"

Your eyes widen as he disappears into the dark entrance. "Very illeg- woah!"

Before you can protest, Seokjin's arms wrap around your waist, dragging you inside with him. Your hands curl around his neck automatically when he swings you around and around until you're both dizzy and spluttering with laughter in the darkness.

"Seokjin! Stop! Where are we?" You murmur into his hair when he finally sets you down on your feet, chests flush together as he backs up so that your shoulder blades press against the wall.

"Can I ask you something?" He whispers, suddenly serious. Your eyes have barely adjusted to the low light but you can tell his lips are inches from yours and you shiver when his warm breath tickles your nose.

Your hand instinctively reaches out to brush away the bangs covering his eyes, breath catching in your throat when Seokjin's brown pupils bore into your own, close enough to see the frost on his dark lashes.

"Of course," You manage to squeak, suddenly aware of how you've been holding your breath. "What is it?"

Did you miss me as much as I missed you? Can I kiss you?

You squeeze your eyes shut when his lips brush your forehead. He smells of minty shampoo and you're sure your heart is beating so fast it's going to escape from your chest any second. If you just lean up a little, place a hand on his shoulder and stand on your tippy toes...

"Why shouldn't you tell jokes while ice skating?" He whispers against your skin. His voice sounds hoarser than before and you notice the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows hard. Is he trying as hard as you are not to kiss him?

"Enlighten me." You breathe.

He keeps drawing ever closer and you pucker your lips...

"Because the ice might crack up."

Your eyes snap open just as he finishes leaning in, reaching over your shoulder to flick a switch that has the whole room lighting up before you.

Oh.

You're briefly disappointed until your eyes finally adjust, and you can't help but gasp at the sight akin to a winter wonderland before you. Strings of Christmas lights are suspended carefully over the familiar campus ice rink you know and love, glimmering like multicoloured snowflakes in the ice's reflection. The bleachers are lined with frosted Christmas trees flashing with silver tinsel and baubles that glint like river-light against the night.

You bite your lip but that doesn't stop elated laughter from escaping you, throwing your arms around Seokjin's neck, his own deep chuckle joining in when he staggers and barely keeps his balance.

"I've missed you." You say when you finally come down and you're both just staring at each other giddily now.

"Even the dad jokes?" The nod into his neck in confirmation makes Seokjin punch the air, though his laugh suddenly trails off and he starts to wring his hands nervously a moment later. "You might regret saying that when I tell you why we're here..."

"Seokjin?"

He flashes you a sheepish smile.

"Surprise! I'm gonna teach you how to skate again!"

"Absolutely not!"

"Come on, you said you trusted me remember?" You feel the colour drain from your face, Seokjin's fingers tightening around your wrist when you try to back step. "I can tell how much you miss it, don't you wanna be able to perform again?"

The memory of how it felt to glide around the ice is enough to make you shiver, a longing settling in your stomach for the cheers of the crowd as you land a perfect jump mingling with your skates scraping the ice.

For the feeling of being free again. That's what you miss more than anything in the world.

"I do." You bite your lip. "But..."

"But?"

"But I'm broken, Seokjin! Just like Jimin said."

"Hey. Look at me." Seokjin whispers when you turn away, probably able to see the glassiness of your eyes as his forefinger bumps beneath your chin. "You're not broken, okay? You're just scared."

You hug your torso. "Well duh. What if something happens? What if I fall again but this time my injuries don't heal? Or worse what if you fall—?"

Seokjin squeezes your shoulders gently and you realise that you're rambling. You trail off when you find him smiling at you reassuringly. "Listen. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's completely up to you. But if you do decide to start skating again, I promise I'll be there to pick you back up when you fall okay? Just like you did with me."

A sudden confidence grips you. Freedom feels so close again you could touch it. Who better to experience it with than Seokjin?

"Okay. Let's do it. I want to skate again."

Before you know it you're sat on the bleachers, sliding your feet into a pair of skates Seokjin retrieved from the lost and found closet. Your shaky fingers pause when they find the laces. Seokjin's warmth appears beside you.

"You okay?"

He's frowning and you realise your teeth are chattering with nerves. "Mhm. Just cold."

"You can be honest with me, you know." Seokjin gets to his knees and gently swats away your hands from your skates, his own fingers deftly stringing the laces. "I know this must be hard for you."

"I'm just nervous." You swallow.

"I'll be by your side the entire time." Seokjin assures. "And if you even come close to falling I'll catch you. I'm not captain of the team for nothing right?"

You snort and kick him with the toe of your skate teasingly. Seokjin's tongue pokes out of the corner of his chapped lips as he concentrates on tying your laces into a neat bow, glancing up at you to check they're tight enough and flushing when he meets your gaze head on. It's endearing and gets your heart racing, and not just with anticipation or nerves any more.

"Promise?" Your voice shakes.

His hand covers yours in your lap. It's mitten covered and warm against your frost bitten skin. "Promise." He scratches his neck. "But if you want to back out at any time just tell me and we can forget this ever happened—"

"No!" You quip, squeezing his shoulder. "I want to do this. With you."

Seokjin flashes you a smile and offers you his elbow. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Panic rises like bile in your throat as you get closer and closer to the the rink.

"No, no, no." You freeze up. "I can't!"

"You can." Seokjin insists, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guides you to the very edge. "Just don't think about it too much."

Don't think about it? How can you not think about it when your heart is beating a million miles an hour and your vision is blurring and you feel like you're going to pass out every time your body tells you to run run run as far away from the danger as possible?

"Look." Seokjin uses the barrier to lift himself onto the ice, sliding his feet back and forth to convince you. "I'm okay, right? Haven't fallen yet."

"Yet." You swallow, gripping the barrier to keep your balance even though you're still stood on solid ground.

"I won't." He offers you a hand. "Now come on. It's your turn."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You'll be fine if you just stand on the ice right? Baby steps.

Your palm slides into his and before you can change your mind you're launching yourself forward, eyes squeezed shut as you simply glide straight ahead into Seokjin's open arms. Relief washes over you when he holds you tight and you're safe again, one eye opening carefully to check you're really balancing on the ice and not a pile of limbs on the ground.

"See! That wasn't so bad right?" You shake your head. "Now you just gotta remember how to move..."

Your eyes widen. "Seokjin, I think this is enough for today—"

"Wait!" Seokjin fiddles with the zipper of his pocket to retrieve his phone, removing one of his gloves so he can tap at the screen. "We can't do this without music."

A few seconds later Seokjin is pressing play on a slow track he has downloaded on his phone and sliding one of his earbuds into your ear, the other into his own. You recognise it instantly as it's the same one you used to perform to when he begged you to teach him a routine five years ago. He grabs you by the arm again and smiles, big and bright. "Perfect. Ready?"

You're squeezing Seokjin's hand so tight you're sure the circulation to his fingers must be cutting off but he doesn't say anything, just keeps his other hand protectively at the small of your back as you slowly start to slacken your vice like grip on the barrier.

To your surprise, your feet move without you telling them too, naturally gliding along the slippery surface as if they've never been away from it. Muscle memory, you figure, as you find yourself beginning to gain some speed.

"I'm doing it!" You pant, relief washing over you as the breeze hits your face. "I can't believe I'm doing it!"

Your eyes are glued to Seokjin's skates, focusing hard on moving your own in time with his every step. You feel his chuckle vibrate through you and you don't even have to look up to know his eyes are shining.

"See? I knew you could."

The music humming through the headphones reaches its pivotal moment and you've done this routine so many times you know what move comes next. A one foot spin.

A bout of fear ripples through you again but Seokjin's right there to soothe you when he sees your eyes widening as he starts to twirl you around. "Just let go!"

"Let go." You repeat to yourself, finally taking your fingers away from the barrier as you lift one skate from the ice and begin to spin and spin and spin until the cold wind burns your skin and you're so dizzy you don't know whether to laugh or cry.

You don't even notice the music has stopped until you come to a shaky standstill. You're gasping for breath and Seokjin is just staring at you, mouth open.

"Damn. I forgot how good you are."

"Shut up." You're grinning now, elation coursing through every fibre of your being. "Let's go again! — ah!"

All the spinning messed with your vision and it feels like everything goes into slow motion as your legs crumble beneath your weight and your body collides with the cold ice. All you can hear is your heart, pumping into overdrive with fear as you close your eyes and brace for the pain in your leg to begin.

Except confusion settles in the pit of your stomach when it never does. You wriggle you're toes, relieved that they seem to still work and then you're sitting up in a daze.

Seokjin's face appears over yours, eyes filled with fear as he pulls your head into his lap. "Are you hurt? I'm so sorry Y/N, I never should have brought you here, this was a bad idea—"

Exhilarated laughter interrupts his concerned rambling and before you know it you're clutching your stomach and wiping happy tears from your eyes.

You're not broken! You're. Not. Broken. And for the first time since the accident you feel free again, like all the anger and hurt and sadness inside you just melted away to nothing.

"Huh? Did you hit your head?" He asks confused, coughing bashfully when you throw your arms tightly around his neck.

"Thank you! For bringing me here. Can we go again?"

Seokjin helps you to your feet but stops you from getting ahead of yourself. "I think this was enough for today but how about we agree to meet here again tomorrow at say...3PM?"

You reach out a now steady hand for him to shake. "Deal."

The next few weeks fly by when you have skating with Seokjin to look forward to every day.

As time goes by you start to regain your confidence, the panic that used to paralyse you whenever you set foot on the ice dissipating whenever Seokjin was around to reassure you.

You feel lighter than ever, like you're on top of the world. It's like everything is falling into place again. You have your skating back but more importantly you have Seokjin. And just being with him is like you're going at full speed on the ice, adrenaline and freedom coursing through you even when you're stood still.

It's like time stops when you're together just you and him and the ice, and that's how Seokjin finds himself running across campus in his ice hockey gear, late for practice again.

"So much for being a 'good captain.' Seokjin doesn't even turn up and he gets a college scholarship?" Park Jimin rolls his eyes at Jennie who is perched on his knee. Since Seulgi cut things off with him after his little show at the parade they've been pretty cosy, mostly because of their shared hatred for you and Seokjin respectively. "It's all that girl's fault."

"Who? Y/N?" Jennie says. "Ugh, I know. She's so full of it. I swear she thinks she's some pro skater or something."

"I mean, she is pretty good." Jimin confesses, stroking Jennie's thigh when she furrows her brows, smiling meekly. "But you're better, obviously."

"I don't know." She murmurs with a huff. "I was kinda glad when she stopped skating, y'know, because it meant that I was top of the league again. If she starts competing again..."

Jimin's eyes suddenly brighten with an idea. "Then we only have one option."

"What?"

"For me to become captain and for you to stay at the top, we gotta finish them once and for all."

"I like your thinking." Jennie purrs, but not before Seokjin runs into the campus locker rooms, out of breath as he fastens his ice hockey helmet around his chin.

"Sorry I'm late! I promise it won't happen—"

"Again?" Jimin scoffs, gesturing around at the rest of the team who are packing up their things. "Dude, you missed the whole of practice. We couldn't wait any longer so we had to start without you. Without our captain."

Seokjin throws his duffel bag into his locker, slamming the door shut a little too harshly. "And I said I'm sorry." A hush falls over the room, all eyes landing on the pair locked in a stare out. "I'll go practice now to make up for it, okay?"

He's hardly through the door when he hears Jimin snicker under his breath to Jennie. "This is why I'm telling coach he shoulda made me captain."

Seokjin freezes. "What did you say, Park?"

Jimin lets out a deep chuckle, standing up and squaring his shoulders though he's still a couple feet shorter than Seokjin. "I said that you're a shitty captain and I'm gonna take your place and your scholarship at the game on Christmas Eve."

"With your technique?" Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. "Tell me a funnier joke, Jimin."

"The only joke is your pathetic excuse for a skater girlfriend," Jennie spits, appearing behind Jimin and wrapping her arm around his waist in solidarity. "Maybe if you spent more time with your actual team instead of teaching that lost cause to ice skate you wouldn't feel so threatened."

"I'm not threatened." Seokjin clenches his fists. "...and she's not my girlfriend."

"Then prove it."

The contours of his face harden, jaw tense and shaking with a desire to set Park Jimin well and truly straight clouding his rationality as words he doesn't mean come flying out of his mouth before he can think better of it.

"Y/N means nothing to me, okay? I'm just teaching her to skate again because I feel bad about her accident." A finger pokes Jimin's chest harshly. Jennie seems startled. "And you're right. Maybe it is getting in the way of my focus. But guess what? From now on I'm only gonna be focused on beating your ass at the game on Christmas Eve and taking the scholarship that belongs to me."

"What?" A small voice sounds somewhere behind him and when Seokjin turns he finds you stood clutching the red scarf he left behind at the rink.

He can tell by the paleness of your face and the way your lip quivers that you heard everything. And before he can reach for you and explain, you're fleeing from the rink in a flood of angry tears for ever letting Seokjin melt the ice in your heart, even for a second.

"Y/N! Please wait!" Seokjin tugs at his hair exasperatedly, turning back to Jimin who is clapping with a dark smile.

"Looks like you have a choice to make, Seokjin."

"Go away, Seulgi." You grumble as your blanket cocoon is ripped away from your body. You hear the footsteps of your best friend patter across the carpet to the window, the light that floods into the room when she rips open the drapes making you groan. "It's too bright."

"Come on, time to get up!" You yelp when a perfectly manicured hand wraps around your ankle, dragging you away from the warmth and comfort of the body-shaped dent in your mattress. "This situation officially requires an intervention! And as your best friend I am taking it upon myself to get your ass out of bed."

It's been almost a week since you last saw Seokjin. Almost a week since he crushed your heart like glass and stamped on the shattered remains and threw them into the garbage disposal when you found out you were just his charity case and nothing more.

And more importantly, it's been almost a week since you realised just how real your feelings were for him. Are for him.

After a small struggle Seulgi wins, despite how erratically you kick your legs in a bid to break free from her grip, and you end up landing with a thud in a pile of blankets and throw cushions on the floor. You rub your eyes with a sigh. "An intervention?"

"Yeah. It's been, like, a whole week since I've seen you leave this room Y/N. I have skating practice in half an hour and you're coming with."

Seulgi gets down cross legged, shuffling up beside you and pulling the blanket over both of your laps. When you finally blink at her blearily for the first time you see her flame-like hair has been scraped back into a tight ponytail and she's wearing a matching mesh skating outfit, clearly ready for practice.

"Thanks but no thanks." You snort. "As much as that sounds thrilling I'm good here."

Seulgi shakes her head and prods your shoulder, sing song voice hardening into a lecture. "You can't hibernate forever, Y/N."

"Can too." Your fingers find a loose thread in the throw cushion in your lap, picking at it mercilessly to avoid looking your best friend in the face for fear that she would see through your facade. "I like hibernating. It's fun."

"Fun?" Seulgi rolls her eyes. A few seconds pass before she lets out a gentle sigh, her voice softening. "Listen...have you spoken to Seokjin yet—"

You wince. Just the mention of Seokjin makes your heart pang.

"No." Your voice wavers. "And I'm not planning on it. How can I after what happened?" Finally allowing yourself to talk about it feels good and before you know it you're burying your head in your hands and letting everything go. "God, I'm so embarrassed, Seulgi."

"Oh, Y/N." Her hand rubs your back soothingly. "What really happened between you two? Why did you run?"

You swallow hard. "I just...got scared."

"Of skating again? You seemed to be doing better since you started training with Seokjin..."

"No. I was scared of..."

"Your feelings for him?"

You pause, unable to help the small smile that creeps onto your lips even despite the warm tears that have started to roll unceremoniously down your cheeks.

"How do you always manage to read my mind?"

"I'm your best friend remember?" Seulgi draws a line between your foreheads before she wraps her arms around your waist and lays her head on your shoulder. You squeeze her back, silently thanking her for being there when you need her. "Besides, it's not like you've been hiding it. Whenever he's around you go all heart eyes for him." She grimaces. "I'm starting to see why you used to complain about me and Jimin so much."

"Do not!" You grumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks when she shoots you an are you serious? look. "Okay fine, lets say theoretically I am all heart eyes for him? What's the point in even admitting it when everything is messed up now, anyway? He said it himself. He never felt the same way about me."

"Well, theoretically, I would tell you to just talk to him. Bottling up your feelings isn't gonna change anything. Besides, I think you still have a chance at making things right. I've seen him waiting around outside the rink after hours. For you."

You avert your eyes. Seokjin? Waiting outside the rink? For you?

"He was probably just passing by or something." You grumble with a shake of your head.

"Everyday this week?" She raises an eyebrow. "Seokjin is good for you, Y/N. You've been different since he turned up...good different. Back to the Y/N we all know and love."

"If you love me so much why won't you let me sleep for a little while longer?"

"Please, you know it's just because I need my honorary wingwoman back. Kim Taehyung is coming by the rink tonight." It's your turn to raise an eyebrow. Seulgi laughs. "Okay maybe it's because I love you a little bit. I think getting back to normal and being at the rink will lift your spirits. Whaddya say?"

You roll your eyes but Seulgi doesn't miss the curve of your lips. "Fine."

She claps her hands gleefully, jumping to her feet and rummaging through your closet. She throws a Christmas sweater at your head. "I'll be waiting in the car!" She skips out of the room, humming the tune of a vaguely recognisable Christmas song beneath her breath. You shake your head fondly when wisps of her red hair poke back around the doorframe a moment later. "Oh, and don't forget to dress warm. There's gonna be a blizzard tonight, remember?"

A few minutes later you're sat in front of your mirror, brushing the frizz out of your hair in a bid to look somewhat presentable when Seulgi knocks on your door again. You roll your eyes. She's always impatient.

"Uhh, Y/N?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" You yell, grabbing your coat. "Hang on!"

"There's someone here to see you."

Your bag drops to the carpet with a thump when you round the corner and see him stood on the doorstep.

"Seokjin?"

Well, you can't see much of him because he's wrapped head to toe in snow gear and he has a huge box in his arms with a red bow on top and there's snow all over his coat but seeing him again makes your chest constrict none the less.

Seulgi still has her fingers on the door handle and she's looking between the pair of you with wide eyes as you just stare long and hard. "Well, I guess I'll leave you two to it then." She sings, but it sounds squeaky and forced as she wraps a scarf around her neck, ready to face the blizzard outside. "Y/N, you know where I am if you need me."

You manage to get out a nod and then Seulgi is awkwardly shuffling around Seokjin who is blocking the doorway and seems to have forgotten how to use his feet.

It's not until the cold air from outside starts to permeate the cosy warmth from your crackling fire place that you realise Seokjin is really here — and he's still standing outside in the goddamn blizzard like he wants to become a human snowman.

His voice brings you back down with a jolt.

"Can I come inside?"

Slanted shadows cascade across Seokjin's face as he peers through the blinds. The street outside is buried beneath a blanket of snow, and even from where you sit with your chin in your palm on the back of the couch you can see an icy flurry of flakes falling from the sky like frozen jewels beneath the glow of the street lights.

"Doesn't look like anyone's gonna be driving anywhere tonight." Seokjin murmurs. "This blizzard seems pretty severe."

You raise your eyebrow with a sigh. First Seokjin turns up on your doorstep unannounced, teeth chattering and covered in snow, and now he's gonna have to spend the night here? With you?

Seulgi sent you a text to let you know she was going to be staying with Taehyung for the night (wolf whistle) and follows up with some flirty emojis and a comment about enjoying your alone time with Seokjin which you can't see happening anytime soon what with the thick tension that sits heavy in the air.

Yeah, this could not get any more awkward, right?

Wrong.

"Thank you for the dry clothes." Seokjin gestures to the much-too-small hoodie that stretches across his torso and the jogging pants that barely reach his calves. The biggest items of clothing you could find in the clean laundry basket to replace his snow-sodden tshirt and jeans that had become transparent in some places by the time you invited him inside. If the situation weren't so tense you'd find it funny. "I thought you were gonna leave me out there all night and let me freeze to death for a minute."

You don't laugh, just keep your eyes on the dark swirls of hot cocoa you stir in two steaming mugs. He flashes you an awkward too soon? smile when you hand the largest mug to him, watching as he takes a grateful sip and sighs when it warms his insides.

A few seconds of silence pass interrupted only by the crackle of the blazing fire that creates orange flickering shadows over the contours of his face while you curl up on the opposite end of the couch beneath the patchwork blanket Seulgi bought you last December.

Finally you let out a sigh, looking at him properly for the first time. He seems worn around the edges, eyes ringed a little red as he fiddles with his fingers awkwardly. There's a pang in your chest.

"Why are you here, Jin?" The waver in your voice makes Seokjin's eyes soften at the corners. "I thought we were over. Whatever we were..."

"I wanted to talk to you."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have waited until after the blizzard passed?"

"I needed to talk to you. To tell you the truth."

The truth. Did he really drive all the way over here just to rub it in that you meant nothing to him?

"What?" You scoff bitterly. "That you never really liked me? That I was just a joke to you this whole time?"

"No!" Seokjin reaches for you, some of his hot cocoa sloshing onto his pants in the process. He retracts his hand when you flinch. "That I'm a shitty, selfish idiot who got too caught up in his own drama to see what mattered most."

You dig your fingernails into your palm and promise yourself not to cry. "Then what about those things you said to Jennie, huh? Explain that."

"The scholarship." He tugs at a hangnail with his teeth, eyes filled with remorse. "When you saw me talking to Jimin that day he was trying to make me mad. He told me that if I kept skating with you..."

Suddenly it all makes sense. A wave of relief and realisation washes over you. It feels like your heart stutters back to life and you suck in a shaky breath.

"He'd tell the coach you weren't committed and get you kicked off the team." Seokjin nods and you instantly feel guilty that you didn't hear his side of the story before, fury towards Jimin burning up in your veins as you shake your fists. "That asshole! He's been mad this whole time that you got made captain instead of him and now he wants to ruin your chance at a scholarship? I have every mind to kick him in his tiny, useless—"

"I'm the asshole, Y/N." Seokjin tears you out of your rage as he leans forward and buries his face in his hands, shoulders quivering. "I let him get in my head and make me say things I didn't mean when I don't even care about the scholarship if..."

Your mouth is suddenly dry. "If what?"

He runs a hand through his hair carefully, finally lifting his gaze to lock with yours. "If I can't have you."

It's like you've been punched in he stomach but in the best way and you want to jump for joy or squeal like a goddamn school girl but all you can do is sit there with your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

"But now I've lost you again and this time it's for good and I'm so so sorry—"

Before you can think better of it you're planting your hands on Seokjin's broad shoulders, throwing your leg over his lap and crashing your lips together.

"Mmf!" It takes a couple seconds for Seokjin to catch up but when he does he lets out a tiny gasp, chest melting against yours as his lips finally move in sync with your own. "Oh."

The way he sighs into your mouth is like he's been waiting forever for this and you feel a similar sense of satisfaction, finally able to curb the craving for him that has been aching inside you for Seokjin for as long as you can remember.

"You haven't lost me." You pant when you bring yourself to break away for a breath. "And you're not an asshole. You've been working towards this scholarship for years so—"

It's his turn to cut you off now, Seokjin's fingers hooking beneath your chin and tilting your head towards him so that he can press his lips against yours in a tentative kiss, swallowing your words in transit.

It's slow and languid, the way he slots his plump bottom lip between yours, making you melt instantly. His cheeks feel warm and soft in your hands as you cup them, the action feeling somehow just as natural as the warmth blossoming in your chest when Seokjin moves his lips against your own with an impossible tenderness.

"I missed you so much." Your eyes are still squeezed shut when he places a peck to the tip of your nose, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as he forces you to look at him by bumping your chin playfully. "I'm sorry."

You pull him closer to you, so close you're sure he can feel the way your heart is beating like a drum. "Don't be. Just kick Jimin's ass at the game tomorrow, okay?"

"I can do that."

He smirks, leaning in for another kiss but hissing when his crotch brushes your thigh a little too directly that has a warmth pulsing between your legs when you feel the big problem he seems to be trying to hide.

You gasp. "Are you...?"

"Maybe..." A groan passes his lips and he tips his head back bashfully, unable to curb his smile when you start giggling into the crook of his neck. "What? I've been imagining this moment for years."

"Then hurry up and kiss me again, idiot."

This time the kiss is hungrier, tongue and teeth tangling together as his hands tighten in your hair. He tastes like hot cocoa and you can't help but groan when his tongue languidly brushes against yours, hips starting to press down into his teasingly.

"Need more, need you — oh!"

"A-are you sure? I'm good just kissing if you don't wanna..."

"No! I want to." You promise. "I trust you."

"Good." Seokjin's lips murmur next to your ear as his fingers dig into the underneath of your thighs, the hardness in his pants pressing against your stomach as he gets to his feet and you throw your legs around his waist with a squeal. "Because I don't think I could handle a whole night here with you like this." Seokjin's teeth pull at your bottom lip and you open your mouth to groan but Seokjin's eyes flutter closed and he ends up staggering straight into the elaborately arranged Christmas tree that Seulgi spent hours decorating. "Shit!"

You both freeze, staring at the mess of tinsel and lights scattered across the ground before you're shrugging your shoulders with a whoops! and guiding Seokjin to your bedroom as he chuckles beneath you. The decorations can be cleaned up later but you need Seokjin now.

Throw cushions soften the blow as you're dropped onto the bed and Seokjin crawls over you, parting your legs with his knee and wasting no time in attacking your neck with his lips. He smirks against your collar bone when you shiver as his hands creep up the hem of your sweater and you rotate your hips impatiently against his thigh, desperate for some relief from the throbbing ache in your heat.

"Can I?" You nod and he wastes no time lifting the garment over your head and you reach behind to unclasp your bra, a shaky breath leaving Seokjin when his eyes roam across your bare breasts, sitting back against his heels to drink in every inch of skin.

"You're beautiful." A heat rises in your cheeks when he attaches his lips to your hardened nipple, lavving his tongue over the bud, a groan tumbling from his chest when you tangle your hands in his hair and arch your back, desperate for more.

"Please." You whimper, hands feeling for the waistband of his sweats when he comes up for air with a pop. "Wanna feel you."

The rise and fall of his chest quickens when your warm palm grasps him over the fabric, pads of his fingers tightening around your thigh when you sit up so you can slip your hand into his boxers, letting out a moan of your own when your fingers finally wrap around the girth of him.

He's hot and hard and heavy in your palm and your heart skips a beat when your thumb spreads the bead of precum leaking from his tip down his shaft, the slick movement of your hand as you begin to stroke him increasingly faster making his head fall into the crook of your neck.

"F-fuck Y/N." He bucks up into your fist and you smirk. "F-feels so good. Been imagining this."

"Me too." You confess, giggling when he grabs your wrist and flips you over so he can press you into the mattress again. "Can't believe this is happening."

"Me either." His fingertips run down your sides tentatively, hooking beneath the band of your jeans which are quickly stripped away and thrown across the room with a grin. He stops when he gets to your panties though, glancing up through his dark lashes, eyes ever gentle and filled with a combination of lust and fondness that you know you'll never be able to get enough of. "Are you sure?"

Your heart thumps with anticipation as you nod, pulling him down to connect your lips. "I'm sure." And with your confirmation Seokjin is dragging the lacy fabric down your bare legs slowly until they join the rest of your clothes on the floor.

Seokjin's eyes dip between your legs when you part them shyly, an involuntary oh my god slipping past his lips when he sees how your folds glisten with wetness, palm coming between your legs so you can grind your neglected clit against the heel of it while he slips a finger into your tight heat.

"Oh!" The intrusion makes you writhe, on one hand grateful for some relief but on the other ever more eager to feel fuller. The pads of his fingers drag against your walls deliciously and the pressure on your clit is just right and you feel your climax steadily build between your legs. "Wait!"

Seokjin pauses and you take advantage of his momentary confusion by flipping him onto his back, bracing your hands on his chest. "Wanna make you feel good too."

"H-how..." Seokjin starts, but then your hand is wrapping around his cock and lining the tip up with your entrance before sinking down to the hilt with a soft exhale that mingles with Seokjin's. "Fuck."

It takes a couple seconds for you to adjust to the size of him and you rest your cheek on his chest, listening to the way his heart beats uncontrollably. His fingers stroke your hair and you feel so overwhelmed with warmth that you're sure of it now; you're in love with Kim Seokjin.

"Ready?" His nod is eager and when you start to move your hips his head throws back into the pillows and you can see the way his adams apple bobs every time his cock nearly falls out of your heat before your slamming back down again in a steady rhythm.

Eventually you feel the coil in your belly start to tighten again, eyes rolling back as you lose yourself to the feeling of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust and you're a mess of whimpers and breathy moans. Seokjin's big palms come up to cup your ass, holding you steady so he can pound his own hips up to meet your movements at an even faster pace than before.

"Seokjin!" You cry, bracing yourself with a hand on the wall behind the bed. The angle has your clit grinding against his pubic bone with every upward thrust and before you know it you're shuddering and reaching your high, vision turning black as you feel your walls tighten impossibly hard around Seokjin, the action enough to have him falling over the edge with you.

A few seconds pass where your pants of satisfaction just mingle together before Seokjin is cupping your face and whispering the three words you've always wanted to hear against your lips.

"I love you." He croaks, the sincerity in his voice making the corners of your lips turn up. And in that moment you feel the last pieces of your heart flutter into his hands and you know you are undeniably, irrevocably, forever and always his.

Seokjin suddenly flips you onto your back, leaving a series of playful kisses all over your face, each punctuated by a sillier "I love you!" until you're pushing him away by the chest and snuggling up into his side instead, head on his arm where you feel so safe and warm you never want to leave.

"Can I ask you something?" You whisper shyly. He nods, eyes falling shut as he plays with your hair contentedly.

"Why did you leave without telling me before?"

Seokjin brushes your noses together. "Because I knew I wouldn't be able to leave if you told me not to go."

You smile up at him, thumb tracing his jaw fondly. "You cheesy idiot."

Realisation flashes across his face. "Wait! I forgot about the cheesiest thing yet." You groan when he throws the covers off, assaulting you with a blast of cold air as he pulls his pants back on and disappears back into the living room. His head pokes around the doorframe cheekily, something hidden behind his back as he stalks back over to the bed, eyes glinting. "I got you something."

You furrow your brows when he produces the large box from earlier, now able to read your own name scrawled across the gift tag in his messy handwriting.

"Surprise!" He holds it out for you to take. "I wanted to wait until Christmas but now feels like the right time to give it to you."

Your fingers shake with excitement as they carefully untie the ribbon and remove the lid, revealing an abundance of pink tissue paper surrounding a pair of the most beautiful ice skates you have ever seen. The very same ice skates you remember seeing in that shop display at the Christmas market all those weeks ago, except the laces have been swapped out for a pair of candy-cane coloured ones, just like the miniature ornament he once gave you has been brought to life.

"Seokjin." Tears well in the corners of your eyes as you turn them over in your hands in pure disbelief. "They're really mine?"

He nods, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. "Do you like them?"

"I love them." You assure him, scrambling to your knees so you can plant your hands on his shoulders and kiss him hard and slow. "But I love you more."

His face heats up a rosy red and he pulls you into his chest to avoid the evidence (and the cheesy grin appearing on his face.)

"Impossible."

“Wait!” You sit up suddenly with a pout. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

Seokjin just laughs. “You’re the best Christmas gift I coulda asked for.”

It's Christmas Eve and you're sat in the bleachers, eyes glued to the number 33 jersey moving swiftly around a group of defence men on the ice below.

Through the unruly cheers of the crowd you can hear the faint throb of your own heartbeat pulsing in your chest, breathing rigid as the game gets tense — there's one minute left, the score is 2:2, and the opposition is pretty good for a college team — but you know Seokjin is better and you cross your fingers tightly as you see him steal the puck.

With a sharp flick of his wrist he launches the black puck into the air. It spins a few times before it slams into the net and the crowd around you erupts into a frenzy. Your heart beats with pride as his team mates lift him onto their shoulders, punching the air and thumping his back in elated congratulations. Even the scholarship board who you can see sat in the front row seem impressed, nodding their heads and scribbling furiously in their notebooks.

Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin!

Seokjin lands back on his feet and then he's ripping off his helmet, cupping his forehead, and squinting up through the harsh reflection of the ice at the bleachers, scanning every single face until his eyes land on yours and a giant grin tugs at the corners of his lips. Suddenly it's as if everyone around you disappears and it's just you and him against the world.

But the moment is interrupted when Seokjin is suddenly knocked off his feet by another body moving at full speed. Park Jimin. You know it's him because you can see his hard eyes peering out from between the bars of his helmet as he throws his hockey stick down on the ice and angrily swings himself over the barrier so he can storm out of the rink.

A cacophony of gasps sound around you. The whistle blows. Seokjin is flat against the ice. Your heart starts to pound.

"Come on Seokjin. Get up. Please get up." You cross your fingers behind your back, brushing away the searing fear that runs hot in your veins telling you to run, that he's injured beyond repair. "Get up!"

And then, he gets up.

Before Seokjin can reach the edge of the rink you're running down the bleachers, pushing through the crowd to get to him. He's breathing heavily when he pulls off his helmet but that doesn't stop the beaming smile that appears on his face when he sees you coming his way.

"You're an idiot!" You whisper into his neck when you crash into him full force. His arms curl around your back, legs wobbling in his skates as he tries to find his balance and prevent you both from falling. "You could have gotten hurt! Or worse!"

"But I didn't, did I?" Seokjin cocks an eyebrow. "Not even gonna congratulate your boyfriend on his smashing win?"

Seokjin chuckles when you shake your head and hit his chest with a pout that desperately wants to turn into a smile. His eyes soften when they meet yours and you instinctively unwind your scarf and drape it around his neck when his teeth start to chatter.

You finally give in to the way the corners of your mouth tug. "Just shut up and kiss me already."

"Gladly." Seokjin chuckles, pulling your face into his hands and planting his lips on yours.

#bts smut #ksmutclub #bts #seokjin smut #seokjin imagine #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fluff #bts fanfic #btswriterscollective #btsguild #kwordsmiths #thebtstown #my writing #fic: heart of gold #12 days of bangtan collab

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onlyfortheplot · 4 years

Note

hihi!! can you pls do a fic with sakusa or akaashi where him and the reader act like they hate each other in front of other people but when it’s just them two, they love each other very much? i don’t mind if it’s nsfw or sfw, in my opinion i think the prompt would be good for both :)

A/N: HIHI!! Thank you so much for the ask! ⊂（♡⌂♡）⊃ It was really fun to write! I’m only doing Sakusa first (mainly because I just didn’t see Akaashi in this prompt). Also I feel like I moved from the original ask?? But, I hope enjoy! Asks are OPEN!

Synopsis:” Oh my God, was it the chicken?”

“No, Y/N, I’m not joking!”

Warnings: slight NSFW, slight crack, Sakusa (I mean someone get me some water, because that man...)

“Can you stop that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, rubbing small circles on her temples. Here we go. She gave an apologetic smile to her friends. Sorry. They smirked at her, coming close together as they whispered. She rolled her eyes. Idiots.

“Hello Omi Omi!” she gave a small smile as she glanced up at the man, “What do you want.”

He gritted his teeth, glaring at her friends who gave him a suggestive look.

“Don’t Omi-Omi me, Y/N.” he hissed, bringing down his mask as he looked down at her. She was so small compared to him. Cute.

“What?” she tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him. Oh. She knew what she was doing. “Is something wrong Sakusa-san?” Something wrong indeed. She wondered how long it would take for him to find out. And how long it would take him to do something about it. She hid a small smile behind her hand, clenching her teeth to hide to small laugh that threatened to burst out.

“I’m not in the mood to play games, Y/N.” he warned, taking a few steps back. Fluttering her lashes, she looked up.

“Really?” she whispered, her eyes glazed as a small blush made its way onto his cheeks. That’s not what you said last night.

“Nevermind. You were just being a bother.” he huffed, quickly pulling his mask up to hide what the painfully obvious blush. Y/N rolled her eyes, calling after him.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Kiyoomi.” she gave herself a small laugh at the obvious look of disgust and outrage that he threw back. She chuckled again, before turning back around to her friends.

“You have something to tell us.” one asked, looking at her with large eyes. She gulped looking around her as peering eyes pinned her in her seat. She quickly looked behind her for a way out but could find none. She looked back at her friends, a slight blush melting onto her cheeks.

“It's not what you think.” she hissed, as their suggestive looks only grew stronger, “Really.”

“You called him Omi Omi.” A few giggles. “No one calls him that.”

“Its because it annoys him. Trust me. He is not my type.” Their giggles only grew.

“Really?” they slyly asked, the words were written clearly in their faces. You’re dating Sakusa Kiyoomi. She rolled her eyes, slamming her forehead to the table.

“Guys!” she whined, burrowing her eyes into her palms, “Please you know I hate him!”

If he was there, she would be dead on the spot. She groaned at the thought of what was to come. Maybe, just a small part of her, regretting trying to make him jealous. Just a little bit. The expressions that appeared on his face were so alien and beautiful she just couldn’t help it. Small winks, flirtatious words had fallen from her mouth before she knew it. It was just fun and games. But, not with him. Especially not with him. She should have known what he would do next. She groaned louder at that thought. She really was dead meat.

“You know that is kind of true, I guess...” someone voiced out, a small hum of the agreement left the group. You guessed? At least it was a start for now. If they had found out… She doubted Sakusa would ever let her forget it. But, she wouldn’t mind. People finding out. She blushed at the thought of openly showing her affection for him. Not that he would allow physical touches. Even after five months into the relationship, he was still struggling with PDA, not that she blamed him. The peering eyes and the judgemental looks from others were enough to make anyone nervous, even her. But, she still thought of what it would be like. She flushed at the thought of being able to give mask kisses or even passing along a homemade bento. She groaned again. Why. Why me.

“Y/N?” someone slapped her back, sending her forward slightly, she whipped around.

“What.” she hissed, rubbing her back. “Oh. Kiyoomi.” She looked back at the table, surprised to see the empty seats. She cursed under her breath. Of course, they left. She glanced up, looking for the anger to sharpen his dark eyes.

“Y/N? What are you doing staring off into space,” he sounded exasperated rather than angry, “You idiot, have you washed your hands?” She glared at him. How typical. She snorted to herself, wiping her hands on her skirt, much to Sakusa disgust.

“Let's go clean you up.” he motioned you to get up. She stuck her tongue out, following him nonetheless.

“Kiyoomi.” she hissed, as he pushed her into a small closet. She was surprised, a strong blush drowning her skin. “Kiyoomi.” she protested as he quickly shut them in a closet.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi!” she was pressed flush against him. “What in the—”

His lips were on hers, claiming in her mouth with a ruthless kiss. Oh god. She found herself lost in the kiss, breaths mingling as they continued to press against each other. Was she really dead? Did he already kill her? Oh god. He pressed himself closer.

“Kiyoomi~” she moaned slightly, “Ah, what’s wrong.”

He growled on her lips. “Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Ok, Omi Omi, what’s wrong?” Kissing was one thing. Kissing Sakusa was a swim in the flames of hell. It was more than enough to make her hot. Hot and bothered. But, kissing in school. In a closet. That was different. Different enough to make her worried.

“I want to tell everyone we’re together,” he mumbled on her lips. She pulled back fast, grabbing his face in between her hands.

“Are you okay. Oh my god, Kiyoomi.” she frantically pressed a palm against his forehead. No fever. Was he sick? Oh my god, was it the chicken from yesterday. Oh god.

“Y/N, stop.” he grasped her hands, gently pulling them off his face, “I’m okay.” She raised a brow.

“Really?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, “Sakusa, you tell me. Was it the chicken?”

“What chicken?” Oh my God. It was the chicken.

“I’m sorry!” she whined clinging to his arm. “I’m sorry! I should have let my mom cook it.”

Sakusa gave her a disgusted look.

“Y/N I don’t understand. What chicken.” he cringed as she sobbed into his shoulder, “Y/N? Is this about what I said before? I meant it.” Y/N paused slightly, bringing her head up to look at him.

“Really?” Fresh tears glistened in her eyes, “You’re not sick?”

He gave her an incredulous look.

“No.”

“Oh thank god!” she sobbed wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him forward.

“Y/N can we leave this place now.” he looked around, narrowing his eyes at the tight area.

“What do you mean?” she asked, outraged, “You pulled me in here, you asshole.”

“It was your fault for flirting with that guy.” he frowned, pulling away slightly, placing a hand on the door handle.

“Did it work?” He gave her a confused look, “My plan to make you jealous.”

He gave a small, rare smile. Shivers drew her back, as she took it in. Oh god. She was in for it.

“Let's see, tonight, shall we.” he drew his mask back, as he opened the door. Y/N blushed at the suggestion, lunging forward to hold his hand.

“Fine.”

Extra:

“Y/N!” she flinched at the impact as her friend ran into her. “Y/N!”

“What?” she groaned as they let go, her back still sore from the night before, “Did you need to do that so early in the morning?”

“Y/N!” they gasped, gaping at her, as she let out a little scream. “What is that?”

“What?” as she looked down, a small scarf covering most of her neck. Most. She groaned as she saw the small inch of skin that had been revealed. Blotched and bruised with hickeys.

“Nothing.” She pulled her scarf to cover the spot. “Did you finish—”

“Y/N got laid.” they screeched, she ducked her down as passerby's looked at her oddly, “Y/N got laid!”

“Shut—”

“I did that.” She whipped around, glaring as Sakusa passed them, not bothering to look at them.

Oh god. Why. Why me?

#sakusa x reader #an ask #kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu!! sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! asks #haikyuu asks #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader

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kitchenangst · 4 years

Text

Before Anything Good pt. 2

Mako x reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Barely one month of living on the streets, and Mako has grown skeptical of anything good that’s offered freely to him. When the girl from the other side of town calls him stinky and demands he take a shower, he might just be right about his newfound cynicism.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: brief implied abusive relationship, language, dialogue heavy, Bolin being comedy relief, this is literally just filler goofiness lol

A/N: New game, drink water every time anyone is called stinky hehe I was going to update this on the weekend but got too excited! also can we get an F for my keyboard pls it doesn’t want to cooperate anymore,, anyway pls let me know if there are any errors!

part i | part iii

After exchanging transactions and names, the three sat on a bench outside with a hefty bag of baked goods. Bolin bounced in his seat as he patiently waited for the girl, who introduced herself as Yn, to pass him his bread before eating her own. She reached into the bag with the napkin, making sure to hand over one of the bigger pieces. Grabbing at it with greedy hands and an appetite to match, he immediately scarfed down the brioche, but not before he said his thanks. He sighed in delight as the fluffiness of it melted on his tongue. “So good!!”

Mako found himself smiling at Bolin’s infectious grin. “S’that so? Want a bite of mine?” He angled his spongy bread towards the younger one, who happily chomped on it. He returned his gaze forward as he continued to chew on his bread, the treat staving off some of the hunger.

Yn giggled at the interaction, wanting to join the fun, and tugged on Mako’s sleeve. “Want a bite of mine?” Before Mako had a chance to respond, she had already shoved her bread into his mouth once he had turned towards her. After breaking the piece off, she lectured, “You should eat more! These will go bad if you don’t finish them! It’ll be a waste.” She ignored Mako’s flushed face, assuming he just needed water, and passed him his cup.

Once he cleared his throat, Mako choked out, "Didn’t you ever consider the germs! You could be sick!”

“I’m not sick!” She cried defensively. “If I cared about your germs, I wouldn’t have offered you any of my bread!”

“Did you think that I might care about germs?!”

“I- Well, I-,” she immediately paused, her cheeks flushing as she looked down sheepishly, “-did not think about that. Sorry?” She looked back at him, the fear of losing her newly made friend reflecting in her expression.

“That’s okay! Mako’s just shy with girls,” Bolin helpfully announced. “Like when that one girl who lived across the street tried to offer some fruit and Mako just threw them-”

“You can eat the rest,” Mako blankly offers, the remaining bread shoved in Bolin’s mouth. At Yn’s gaping mouth, Mako grabs the wrist holding her bread before guiding the food into her mouth. “You should, too.” A playful grin itches the corners of his mouth as he tries to keep a straight face. "It's not good to waste your food." He reaches into the bag to grab a different type of bread as if nothing happened and proceeds to chew on it.

“Thaz nawht neigs!”

At her muffled yelling, Mako’s eyes glint playfully. “What’s that? I smell really good?” She shoved him away the moment he tried to lean closer to her.

Once she swallowed, she reprimanded Mako’s behavior, claiming it’s not good to interrupt people talking.

Mako shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Not really. When you have a brother, it’s okay to be mean.”

Her eyes narrowed, taking in his words. “Then, what about a sister? Would you be mean to her too?”

He takes a moment to ponder. It was nice forgetting that he was an orphan and just enjoying food in the company of another. But he thinks back to the days he'd chase Bolin around the house and wonders if he'd also chase Yn around if she'd been there. After all, a friend wouldn't be too different from a sibling, right?

“I think it’d be okay to be mean to them, too.” Yn’s head nodded approvingly at the answer, humming appreciatively that there was no special treatment between siblings. “Not sure, though. I never really thought about it until now.”

“What about you, Yn? Do you have a brother or sister?” Bolin chimed in, now on his second bread.

“None! But I’d like a sister or brother sometime! I think it’s neat to have a friend like that around all the time.”

“Yeah, you can think of it like that. Or it’s someone annoying you all the time.” With another shrug, Mako pops the rest of the bread in his mouth and dusts the crumbs off his hands.

Bolin clears his throat, climbs onto his knees, and holds Mako by the shoulders to steady himself before burping in his face. The immediate cringe his brother wears is enough to satisfy him, a triumphant grin settling on his face. “Or someone you can annoy all the time!”

Yn’s bark of laughter suddenly ends when suddenly the same cringe on Mako embraces her face. “Oh, you two are really stink-” but the other two don’t hear her finish her sentence as someone shouts her name over the stomping of ostrich horses in front of them.

The lady towering over Yn from her seat inside the carriage looks frustrated, worried, and tired all at once. She hugs the girl the instant she exits the carriage, her eyes clenching softly in relief before she reopens them to look her form over. Making sure there aren’t any visible signs of dirt or scratches, she sighs. “Sweetie, why did you leave my side? You’re lucky I found you before anything happened!”

Yn puffs her chest and sits up straighter. The moment the word “mother” had left her mouth, Mako suddenly felt like he shouldn’t have been here, shouldn’t have gone for the bread, should be leaving, should be running. He stiffens when he makes eye contact with her mom, her eyes scanning their tattered clothes and thin coating of dust, settling on the scarf wrapped around Mako's neck with some form of recognition and pity. The pity. This was the exact moment he hated experiencing when parents realized their kids were around them, the orphans. Mako makes an effort to hold back a scoff, suddenly remembering how it wasn’t proper social etiquette to be rude to those related to the one who have shown you kindness.

“Mako, can we?” He turns to see Bolin holding his hands together in plea and lips pouting.

"Uh..." Shit, he was not listening. "I don't know, Bo…"

“Please, I insist. Any friend of Yn is welcome to have dinner with us anytime.” The look in her eyes was hesitant compared to the shakey upward turn of her mouth. “I won’t make two orphans pay, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Although they were the same words spoken to him earlier that day, they didn’t feel as sweet coming from the lady than it did from her daughter. Why did she have to mention they were orphans? Did she know them? their parents? the culprit?

“Mako,” Bolin whispers. Tugging his sleeve close enough so that the other two wouldn’t hear, he continues whispering. “House. Stuff. Steal?” Mako’s face remained neutral, but Bolin’s idea did strike a chord… Maybe they had a collection? They wouldn’t notice a thing or two from it missing… Mako assumed position by crossing his arms and making an indecisive face, hand resting on his chin to pronounce the effect. “It’s free dinner! Just this once, please?” With his acting turned up by a notch, Bolin slings himself onto Mako’s shoulders with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.

“Well… I could never say no to free food,” Mako returns stiffly. Gee, why couldn’t they just be natural. Even Bolin’s pout turned into a grimace.

“Then let’s go now!” With no time for them to worry about how bad their acting was, the two of them were suddenly seated in the carriage on the opposite side from Yn and her mom. Yn bounced in her seat and swung her legs, her head tilting from side to side as if she was picking and choosing from a jar of questions to ask them, but only held back because of her mother being in the same space.

The brothers shifted their eyes around the cart, not wanting to make eye contact at her mom, but not quite wanting to look at Yn either. Instead, Mako fiddled with the ends of his scarf while Bolin asked for another piece of bread. Smart, at least he wouldn’t be asked to talk if he was eating.

“Mother?” Yn’s tongue poked against the inside of her cheek, hesitant on whether she should ask something or not. At her mother’s inquiry, she continued, “Is this what kidnapping looks like?”

Everyone turned to the sound of Bolin’s choking, who could barely hold the bottle of water being handed to him by Yn’s mother while Mako slapped his back harshly until he calmed down. “K-ki-kid- you’re kidnapping us?” He stared at the water and bread questionably. “Are these poisoned?! Am I going to… going to… melt… from the inside?” The tears in the corner of his widened eyes began to roll down at the thought of a painful death and he turned to Mako, barely comprehensible. “I told you! We shou-shouldn’t have come!”

“You’re the one who wanted to go!”

“You’re the one who let us go!” Great. Now he was sobbing.

Exasperated, Mako groans. “Fine! If it makes you feel better-” he takes a large swig from the same bottle Bolin drank from earlier, “-now we’ll both melt from the inside!” Once Bolin’s sobs calmed down, he quickly added, “Better?” Bolin’s nod of approval stopped at the sound of Yn’s laughter on the other side, her mom simply covering her mouth with a little twinkle in her eyes.

“I wanna melt from the inside, too!” Yn plucked the bottle from Mako’s hands before chugging the rest, saying something about how poisoned water tasted better than regular water.

“You’re free to leave anytime after dinner, by the way. We’ll even arrange a carriage to take you back,” Yn’s mother offered.

Mako nodded slowly, the look in her eyes now seeming more genuine than it had outside the carriage. “Thank you. We’d really like that.”

The rocking of the carriage and the stomping of the ostrich horses filled the silence afterwards. With nothing to do and the presence of her mother making her hold her tongue, Yn studied the two brothers’ features. She wasn’t sure of what the definition of pretty for boys was, but she was sure these two were it.

Bolin was on the cuter side with his stubby nose helping his thick eyebrows emphasize his expressions, chubby cheeks filling like chimp-monkeys, and bright emerald eyes practically glowing as if untouched. Mako, on the other hand, had a more slender nose, the arch of his eyebrows curving naturally just before abruptly being pulled up to a mountain peak and dragging downwards on the thicker end, his cheeks close to hollowing out from lack of food, and golden eyes tinted and narrowed in suspicion every now and then. The apples of both their cheeks an angry pink and peeling from being sunburnt, paling in comparison to the deep red and soft cotton of Mako’s scarf.

That couldn't have felt nice if they just left it alone… She sighed and started folding the empty bag of bread, wondering if her mother had any mud masks she could spare at home.

“And that’s how you turn off the sink!” Yn finished her explanation to the boys with a proud face, the bathroom lights adding just another bright layer to her eyes.

“We know how to use the bathroom...”

“Then get to brushing your teeth! Your breath-”

“Stinks. We know.”

Yn’s grin widens at Mako’s admittance, skipping out of the bathroom to help her mom prep for dinner. The dinner prep was simple since neither brothers had any special dietary needs or restrictions. The sound of the door unlocking was enough to stop her from turning on the stove to cook the chopped ingredients. Running to the door, she greeted her father with a slight bow and offered to take his coat and hat back to his room.

Just as she exited her father’s room, she heard her name from Mako’s distressed call. “Can you get us towels? And some clothes?” His head was sticking out from the door and his damp hair clung to the sides of his face as he looked around frantically.

“Oh! Sorry, how could I forget? Just wait a bit!” She’s about to turn the corner into the kitchen to ask her mother about the washed clothes, stopping when she hears the hushed whispers that could only belong to her parents.

“No, those two kids! They’re San and Naoki’s kids!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Spirits, woman, do I have to spell everything for you? Did you see the damage of their house? They must have gotten some money from selling stuff. Money that they’re hiding.”

“They’re just kids. When are you going to stop pulling this stunt?”

“I’ll stop when I stop. Now, where have you been seeing them hang around?”

A heavy air of silence hangs around the area, and Yn nearly looks around the wall before her eyes widened at the familiar sound of a harsh clap thundering off the walls of the kitchen. Her hands flew to cover her mouth to repress her gasp. With shaky steps, she was barely able to turn around without tripping on her feet, the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears and blocking off the rest of their conversation as she made her way back to the bathroom.

A/n: I did not need 1.7k words before getting to this point in the story but I couldn’t help it LOL this part was split once again :”) also some pieces of dialogue are based on conversations in real life and I thought it fitted the three of them nicely as kids! kinda surprised myself this chapter because i always cringe at what i write but this was kinda cute lol Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!

part i | part iii

Taglist! (if you’d like to be tagged, pls DM me or send in an ask!)

@welovediaaxx

#source: lok art of the animated series #lok #legend of korra #lok x reader #mako x reader #mako #mako imagine #lok imagine #BAG #yall gonna HATE me the next few updates #did i really use this chapter to describe mako's jetbrows......yes...#mako: not me side eyeing my brother

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lovely-angst · 4 years

Note

Oh, I understand! In that case, can I just request for another angst (but with a happy ending, pls) for Giyuu? Like he was forced to leave his lover because of the increasing threats of Muzan and the Upper Moons but when he finally returned (years later), he learns that his lover gave birth to their child. I'm in love with all your work. Most of them maybe sad but they make me happy. Thank you. -other kny characters anon 😊

ooh, i love angst like this. its surprisingly more fluff than angst

changed the fic a little but to make it flow better but i still hope you enjoyed it!

“(Name), you need to leave the house now,” Tomioka panics as he runs around, grabbing and throwing things out of the way, making a mess of your once clean house. You stared at him quietly and confused, “Giyuu, I don’t understand,” your brows arch worriedly as you watch Tomioka scramble around before he turns around and grabs your arms. His eyes are wide and he looks scared, which makes your heart drop.

“You need to run, Muzan’s attacking—I need you safe,” Tomioka throws a scarf and a large blanket around you. “I-I don’t know where to go! Giyuu, you’re scaring me...” your eyes start to water as you look up at your husband, his blue eyes also peering into your own. “I don’t want to go; I want to stay with you..”

Tomioka looks down at you, face full of sadness and pain as his large hands cup your cheeks before pulling you in for a short but strong kiss. “You have to go (Name),” he says as he pulls you in for another kiss; your shaky hands place themselves over his own as tears slide down your face. “I promise I’ll come find you once this is over.” You sob into his kiss with a nod, “I’ll wait for you, I’ll always be waiting for you.”

Tomioka pulls away and his eyes run over your face one last time before he presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you so much, wait for me, (Name).” You choke back your tears before you turn around and run.

As Tomioka watched his wife, the love of his life, run from his arms, he could feel his heartbreaking. As much as he wanted to keep you in his arms and protect himself, he knew he couldn’t.

He didn’t know where you would be, he had no way of keeping contact with you, but he made you a promise that he would come back to you. No matter how long it takes, he vowed he would find you again.

Walking down a dirt road into a familiar town, Tomioka looked around quietly at the peaceful village. Everyone was happy and content and he smiled faintly as he saw the little kids run around with each other.

He remembered wanting to start a family with his lovely wife. His dream was cut short when the fight against Muzan had broken out, and even though it had been two years since, he still held onto that dream in hopes that he would find his wife again someday.

He really missed her, though.

A familiar voice snapped Tomioka out of his thoughts as he quickly turned towards the source of the voice. “(Name)?” Tomioka whispered frantically as his heart began to race. It had to be her, no doubt about it.

He had been searching for her for two years with no luck. Maybe today was finally the day he would get to see you again? Running around, he began asking around, giving descriptions of you until a particular comment made his heart skip a beat.

“Oh, I’ve seen a woman like that around the area. She’s usually with her little boy,” an older man says as Tomioka stares at him in shock.

Her little boy?

Politely thanking the man, Tomioka continued on with his search until he noticed a familiar woman crouched over. “Hibiki! Your face is all dirty! How many times have I told you to be careful?”

Tomioka slowly walked towards the lady and as he got closer, he noticed a little boy no older than two years old staring up at him with deep blue eyes. Was this his child?

“Hibiki, what are you staring at?” You question as you stood up and turned around just to find your husband in front of you. Your eyes widened and you gasped as Tomioka’s face contorted into a somewhat sad and pained look. “G-Giyuu?” You whisper as your arms reach up towards his face.

Without wasting a second, you ran into his arms as you sobbed in his chest. Your body shook as your cries ripped through the sky, he had finally come back to you like he had promised. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered into your neck as his arms wrapped around your form tightly, just like he used to.

You pulled back and give him a large smile before you cupped his cheeks. “I missed you so much,” you let out a faint chuckle before pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Oh, how you missed him so much. Tomioka smiled into the kiss before he began to press little kisses on your lips as you let out little giggles like you had just fallen in love with him for the first time over.

“Mama,” your son tugged on your yukata before you pulled away and bent down to pick him up, smooching him on the cheek with a shy smile. “Giyuu, let me introduce you to Hibiki,” you say as you turn the little boy on your hip to your husband, “He’s our child.”

“O-Our child?” Tomioka repeated shocked as he stared at the little boy who looked so much like you, but so much like him as well. “You mean, that’s my son?”

You chuckled and brushed your son’s dark hair back before giving him another kiss on the forehead, “He looks just like you,” you say, pressing more kisses onto your baby's face before you set him down.

“I found out I was pregnant not long after I had left,” you explain with a small smile. “It was kinda lonely being pregnant alone, but after seeing your features show through onto Hibiki, I felt a lot better. He reminded me so much of you.”

Tomioka immediately felt guilty thinking about you going through your pregnancy all alone. Tomioka glanced over at you as you gently encouraged Hibiki to say hi to Tomioka, his father.

“It’s okay, Hibiki, go say hi. That’s your papa,” you say with a happy smile as Tomioka glanced back at the boy nervously.

He had always thought about having children, but now that he actually had a child, he didn’t know what to do.

“Papa?” Tomioka looked down at the boy who shyly walked over to him, still a little hesitant approaching the new male. Tomioka bent down and picked up the little boy in his arms, staring at the little boy before giving him a small smile, “I’m your papa,” he said shyly as the little boy smiled and rested his head on Tomioka’s shoulder.

You smiled at the two before you walked over and placed your head on his chest as Tomioka wrapped his arm around you.

He was finally reunited with his wife and the best surprise he could have ever been gifted—a child. Those two years of searching for you had been worth it in the end. He would love you and his son to the ends of the earth.

#tomioka giyuu #tomioka #giyuu tomioka #tomioka giyuu x reader #demon slayer tomioka #Tomioka Giyū #tomioka giyuu scenario #tomioka giyuu scenarios #giyuu #giyuu x reader #tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #kny x reader #kny #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader

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theyaskedmeto · 4 years

Note

Kurt doing makeup, like, just for fun because he's bored, and Blaine feeling strangely attracted, something like that lol

fanfiction

more feminine - klaine oneshot

read at ao3

words: 1399

AN: I hardly know anything about makeup so this is why that part of this oneshot is very vague, pls don't hate me if I got anything wrong there!!! I have no idea when this is set but they're fiances, so maybe between season 5 and 6 before things go bad :) I used to stan joe sugg, so there's a little hint to his brother zoe (aka zoella) for the VIBES. sorry about that

He comes home to the sound of a voice that isn’t Kurt’s in the bedroom. It’s definitely not what he would’ve liked to have heard after a very long day at NYADA, but he doubts after all that he and Kurt have been through together Kurt wouldn’t be cheating on him. Then he realises that said voice sounds tinnier than the usual human being. That’s when he recognises what his fiance is actually doing, and walks into their shared bedroom without removing his scarf or coat or shoes that were protecting him from the frosty air in the cold winter of New York City.

What he actually sees makes his heart skip a beat. Kurt is sitting there, cross-legged on the bed, watching a youtube video with various makeup products dotted around him, as the girl in the video (he recognises her - isn’t she called Zoella or something? She’s got a British accent and long hair but really, he’s not too sure) neatly applies some very bright eyeshadow to her eyelids- a turquoise sort of green colour - and Kurt tries to do the same. He’s done pretty well actually, Blaine observes, as he sees one of Kurt’s eyes has already been completed. He looks beautiful, with the outside of his eyelid painted in the same turquoise green colour, which fades into the inside of the lid which is a lighter shade of blue. Along the upper lashline (and Blaine only knows the name of that part of the eyelid because the girl in the youtube video just said) he has painted a simple black eyeliner which makes his eyes pop. There’s only one way Blaine can describe the way he looks right now, and that word is ‘hot’.

“Hey,” Blaine says, leaning against the wall divider.

Kurt jumps, not realising his fiance’s entrance as he was so focused on the video. “Blaine! You’re back early!” He says, flustered.

Blaine frowns as he watches Kurt hastily try to pack all of the makeup away into a black makeup bag, and walks towards him. “You know you don’t have to hide all of this from me. I love it. I think you look amazing.”

Kurt looks up at him then, stopping trying to pack all the products away, and meets Blaine’s hazel eyes. He watches as Blaine moves further towards him to sit on the bed next to him.

“...W-what?” He hesitates, staring deeply into his fiance’s eyes, their faces only inches apart. He’s becoming very aware of the eyeshadow that he’s heavily powdered on as Blaine gazes back at him.

“I love you with all this on,” Blaine repeats, gesturing with his hand to Kurt’s face, marvelling his beauty. “I love you always, but… honestly, Kurt, you look hot.”

Kurt’s eyes widen at this, eyebrows raised, “Oh, really?” He observes.

“Yes. I mean, you always look hot, but you look really good like this.” Blaine smiles. He moves closer to Kurt’s lips, eyes darting down to them, silently asking for a kiss.

Kurt complies, but not in the way Blaine wants, as he only gives him a short peck and moves away, grabbing his laptop and makeup bag, leaning up against the headboard and taking all the necessary products out again and pressing play on the youtube video.

Blaine whimpers, moving closer to him on the bed. “Kurt, please…” he says, pouting.

Much to his dismay, Kurt stretches a hand out towards his fiance, pushing him away.

“You’re such a boy sometimes. Not now,” He laughs, picking up his eyeshadow pallette and dabbing the green-colour to onto the eyeshadow brush. “I spent so long doing my left eye, I’m not going to waste my time and just wash it off without doing the other, at least.”

There’s a moment of tranquillity between the couple with nothing but the sound of the girl on the video instructing what colour to put where, as Blaine admires Kurt’s skill of applying said colours.

“Teach me.” He says quietly, breaking the silence.

Kurt looks up at him, half annoyed, half observant, and then asks, “what do you mean?”

“Teach me how to do makeup. Or at least that eyeshadow you’re doing now.”

Kurt looks at his fiance, pausing the video and says “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“One hundred per cent. Now give me a brush.”

His eyeshadow collection isn’t big, only one palette with a few bright colours and some neutral ones, so he shares it with Blaine, offering him a brush. Blaine takes it happily and scoops a load of the powder onto it when he hears Kurt shriek in horror.

“Blaine! What are you doing!”

Blaine frowns. He hasn’t even applied the makeup to his lid yet, and his fiance is already shouting at him.

“What? I’m just getting some colour!” He reasons, trying to dab some more pigment onto the brush but failing as Kurt steals the palette back.

“That’s way too much! Ugh, you’ve made a massive dent in the eyeshadow!” He exclaims, holding the palette up to his chest.

“Fine! You do it then!”

“Okay! Give me the brush back and I will.”

Half an hour later, they’ve moved to the desk at the end of their bed, just so they don’t spill anything on their white sheets, and Kurt is applying a full face of makeup to Blaine’s complexion as he urges Blaine to stay very still.

“How long does this take?” Blaine asks, growing a bit tired. He didn’t expect Kurt to go this full-on with the whole makeup experience.

Kurt sighs. “Just… be quiet and let me finish this. I haven’t even finished mine yet.”

“Finish yours, then.”

“No. You’re my barbie doll and I’m giving you a makeover. Now shush.”

That’s all they say for a while, then Kurt leans back in his seat in satisfaction.

“All done,” he smiles, then taking a small mirror from the bathroom to show Blaine. “What do you think?”

Blaine stares at his reflection. His eyes light up when he sees himself. His eyelids are mainly dark green, which fades into a lighter shade of green on the inside. It’s simple, but dazzling, and highlights the hazel in his eyes.

“This is amazing, Kurt! You’re amazing. Come here,” he says, pulling the taller man towards him. Their lips meet in a kiss and Kurt cups Blaine’s cheek, caressing the skin just below his eye. As they pull back, Kurt gazes at him, his lips turned up in a smile.

“I get what you mean about the whole makeup thing,” He mumbles dazedly, “it just looks… really good.”

“Yeah?” Blaine jested, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Yeah. Come back.”

They stumble to the bed, keeping the makeup on, but not much else.

Later, they’re lying in bed together, when Blaine asks, “Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you trying to hide your makeup from me when I came in?”

Kurt smiles, a blush rising to his cheeks as he looks down at their hands that are linked together between them.

“It’s not something I usually do, you know,” He starts, “Like… you know how much I like fashion but I’ve never been really that… well. Feminine. Apart from our skin sloughing routine. You don’t see me walking around every day with a full face of makeup on. And I haven’t really mentioned it before. I thought you might judge me.” He looks up at Blaine then, nothing but honesty in his eyes.

Blaine frowns at his fiance slightly, “Kurt. You don’t need to feel like I’m gonna judge you. Trust me. I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you. Or judge you. Unless it’s something really outrageous, like when I found you still sleeping with your boyfriend pillow even when we were back together.” He jokes.

Kurt slaps his arm lightly, “Hey! You said you wouldn’t bring that up again! It was only because you decided to stay up playing on the PlayStation into the early hours of the morning. Don’t blame it on me that I was being needy.”

“Fine. But my point is, I love you. I will always love you. And plus, haven’t we just discovered that makeup on you is a big thing for me anyway?” He hints.

Kurt kisses his lips again, sweetly, “I love you too. And yes. I think we’ve definitely discovered that.”

Blaine smiles, “definitely.”

#woah she really is boshing out the fanfics now!!!#klaine fanfic #glee #klaine #klaine fic #elsie writes #blaine anderson #kurt hummel #fic: more feminine #glee fanfiction #fiances!klaine

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yeetdam · 5 years

Text

stars after the rain ☾ yedam

genre – romance, soulmate au

synopsis – set in a universe where everyone is born with two names tattooed on their skin. one name stands for their soulmate, the other for their potential killer. no one knows which person inked on them is their other half and which is their downfall, but that has never been an issue to you. after all, you were born with just one name. and, well, there’s only one way to interpret that.

wc – 8.3k

a/n – this is a completely self-indulgent fic pls forgive me this mess contains everything i dream of: best friend doyoung antics, slow burn-ish vibes and a cheesy rendition of the slow dance scene on the rooftop from high school musical 3 :’) either way, i hope you’ll enjoy this and pls lmk if there are any mistakes or if u have some feedback uwu

It’s bound to end in a tragedy when Doyoung barges into your room without any warning and sees it for the first time.

“That’s a cool place to have a tattoo,” he admits and points at the back of his neck when you turn to him with an irritated expression. The realization crashes onto you like an atomic bomb the moment you subconsciously mimic his movement and slide your hand up the back of your neck.

“Oh.”

In the blink of an eye, you frantically rummage through your drawers for your foundation. Lately, there’s been many things clouding your mind, be it the many exams you can’t afford to fail or the abnormal number of complaints Hyunsuk has sent you in a span of three hours. It’s not the first time for you to drown in all kinds of duties, but it seems like the pressure has got into your head worse than usual. You never fail to cover the ink on the back of your neck with either turtlenecks or foundation, so it just fuels your frustration when Doyoung sheds light on it.

“Hey, relax! We can join the party a little later, so take your time,” he says and puts a firm hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you. “Uh, do you want me to help? It must be hard blending that in every day.”

You snort. “First of all, I am relaxed. Second of all, I don’t do this every day, but I manage perfectly on my own.”

“Jesus Christ,” Doyoung sighs and retreats his hand, “I was just trying to be the empathetic best friend. But jokes aside, it really is a cool place to have your tattoo. My thigh can’t relate.”

“As much as I love being your best friend and am willing to listen to your problems anytime–” you successfully find the bottle and squirt a generous amount of foundation on the beauty blender, “–even that is too much information for me. What should I know next? Your other tattoo is on your butt?”

There is nothing wrong with covering up the tattoos you are born with. It’s not socially frowned upon if someone doesn’t make any efforts to hide the ink. In the end, it all boils down to your personal preference. You know a handful of people who waltz around with both of their names on display, and you are relatively sure that Doyoung would be one of them if his tattoos were on an appropriate part of his body.

“Haha. Funny,” Doyoung deadpans before he whips out his phone. “I meant what I said, take your time. Plus, I realized I still gotta call someone.”

“Give me five.” You hum and apply the liquid on your skin. He exits your room and makes sure that the door falls softly in its lock to give you a moment of peace. A frown paves its way onto your face as you build up the coverage until there is no trace of black on your neck.

Showing the inked names on your skin and just talking about the concept of soulmates in general isn’t a social taboo. However, there are quite a few people who rather avoid the topic at hand, including you. Truth be told, every cell in your body knows that Doyoung is dying to discuss this topic with you and there are too many moments you recall where he looks as if he’s about to explode if he doesn’t bring up his soulmate. However, he never did that. Doyoung wears his heart on his sleeve and so do you, but here’s the thing: Doyoung is better at swallowing them down.

So as his best friend, the least you can do is go with him to that one goddamn party even though there are other things you’d rather do at this late hour of the day.

(A prime example of what you’d rather do is giving Hyunsuk a piece of your mind because receiving fifty-seven emails about not understanding biology, whining about the new TA and his harsh grading and inquiries about what to get Seunghun for his birthday in the span of three hours is not okay.)

Whenever you go out in public, you are usually seen with a turtleneck or a scarf. Covering up your tattoo with a foundation is your plan c) when desperate times call for desperate measures. Also, there is a reason why you barely go to parties.

Parties fall under desperate times.

Although there isn’t anything in Yeji’s house that is illegal to consume, the living room is sweltering hot, the music obnoxiously loud, and the entire scenario is equivalent to a frat party minus the alcohol, drugs, and making out.

Instead, a dozen bottles of pretty much every soft drink you can find from the convenience store just three blocks away and a broad selection of chips and chocolate and cake are found on the tables.

“Wanna bet that you could never finish cola with salt in one go?” Jaehyuk suggestively raises a brow at Doyoung and holds up the red cup in his hand.

“If I win, you owe me bubble tea for an entire month. Wherever and whenever I want.” You fight the urge to smack yourself as you see the sneaky grin etched on Doyoung’s lips. For a moment, you debate whether to stand up your comfortable position on the couch and knock some sense into him. But then again, you remind yourself why you’re even here in the first place. Though you know most of the people here, you don’t really talk to them. Doyoung was your only friend present.

You’re only here for Doyoung’s sake. You’re going to let him have fun and let him regret his life decisions in the aftermath.

“Aren’t you feeling lonely here?” you divert your eyes from Doyoung to the guy who drops himself on the couch beside you. He’s a new face, you figure, dressed in an unbuttoned, red flannel shirt, a black graphic tee underneath and ripped skinny jeans. Strands of jet black hair fall into his face, but they fail to hide the genuine twinkle in his eyes as the corners of his lips subtly tug upwards.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you mumble and are very glad that you’re no longer focused on Doyoung if you consider the gagging sounds he’s emitting, “I’m not a huge fan of these kinds of occasions.”

“Let me guess,” he muses and takes a sip out of his cup, “That guy forced you here?”

A chuckle escapes your lips when he points at Jaehyuk who’s laughing maliciously at a kneeling Doyoung.

“Actually, it’s the guy who looks like he needs life support, but close enough.” you lift a brow at the flannel guy. “Is there a reason why you’re staring at me like that?”

He shrugs in response. “I’m just happy that I managed to lift up your spirits a little bit.”

There it is again, the glimmer in his eyes. You can’t lay a finger on what exactly it is, whether it’s playfulness or an underlying risk. All you know is that it's a gamble. You either take the leap or you keep it safe. It’s not the first time that you end up in such a situation, but this time, it’s a little but different. The only thing that is stopping you is the uncertainty of reading him.

But maybe, maybe it’s not that bad.

“You know,” you start and fiddle with your fingers, “I’m fairly sure that you’re the only one who can enlighten me here.”

Your hunch is proven right. It is not that bad. Not bad at all, actually.

For the next hour, you two stay seated on the couch and talk about all kinds of things. Sometimes, when you bother to care, you laugh at some mishaps that occur right in front of your eyes, like Chaeryeong tripping over her own feet before she crashes into Mashiho and makes him fall flat on his face.

“Wanna grab something to drink?” he asks after a while and swirls the last few ounces of liquid in his cup. “Besides, I think I need a refill.”

“Sure,” you reply and you both enter the kitchen. The room is empty apart from the two of you, and though you can still hear the music blasting through the closed door, your ears don’t ache as much anymore.

While you grab ahold of one of the opened bottles of cherry cola and pour it into an unused red cup, you watch him roll up the sleeves of his flannel from the corner of your eye. He has pretty hands, you figure, and maybe it would’ve been better if you didn’t stare at them for so long. It’s only a subtle flick of his wrist as he fixes his sleeves, but you don’t fail to notice fine black lines on his left wrist.

Before you ponder longer about it, he asks you, “Hey, can you pass me the cherry cola?”

You nod wordlessly and hand him the bottle and don’t leave his hand movements out of your sight. Once in a while, your eyes flit to the fridge behind him, to the few strands of jet black hair that sick out messily or to his eyes. Curiosity has never been a trait that really defines you, but sometimes, you can’t help but try to decode the name on his wrist.

Still oblivious to your underlying intentions, he continues rambling about his favorite music producers. “Cha Cha Malone has this really distinctive tone in his productions…” he places the edge of his cup on his lips with his left hand and suddenly, your blood runs cold.

Though there is the slight possibility that you are suffering from hallucinations, you are pretty damn sure it is not an illusion. The kitchen sheds enough light to see everything clearly, from the slight bags under his eyes to the coffee stains on the table. The lights aren’t blinding, but they’re enough to decipher the fine black lines inked on his left wrist.

Your name.

“... and I feel that– hey, you look like you saw a ghost. Is everything alright?” he furrows his brows in concern, but when he follows the trail where you’re looking at, he gets the gist. You notice him tense up and are pretty sure it’s not a trick of the light when he pales, something akin to guilt paints his face.

“Come to think of it,” you mumble and avert your eyes from his wrist. “I didn't catch your name. Who are you?”

He hesitates, chews on his bottom lips first before he answers. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights and it just fuels your thought that the worst case scenario has become a reality. You hope it isn’t what you think it is.

“I’m Bang Yedam.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to force any coherent words past your lips. A shiver runs down your spine, and though there is less to be scared of because your name is inked on his wrist too, you're still wary. Obviously, the one who is destined to end your life won't have your name tattooed on them.

But with your circumstances, you can't help but include that possibility.

Yedam doesn't hide his panic anymore as he tries to justify himself. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself earlier, (y/n). Doyoung told me not to–"

"Doyoung? What does Doyoung have to do with this?"

When all you're met with is silence, you ask again with something akin to fury laced in your tone. "I said, what does Doyoung have to do with this?"

He diverts his gaze to the counter behind you with pursed lips. Knowing that he won't spill the truth, you try to find the remaining puzzle pieces to complete the mystery by yourself. Your efforts are in vain though, because there is nothing you remember that could serve as a link to what Yedam said–

("I realized I still gotta call someone.")

"I need to go," you say when it dawns on you and you set the cup on the table. A jumble of emotions rages in you, be it the anger that flows through your veins or the whirlwind of irritation and disappointment and despair flooding your senses. You don't stop when Yedam calls after you and tries to make you stay.

You rush into the living room to grab your belongings, completely ignoring Doyoung who is still oblivious to your discovery. It's when he takes a closer look at your trembling hands and pessimistic face that the joy falls from his face.

"Hey, why are you leaving already?" he asks, concern laced in his voice as he tries to touch you, but you swat his hand away.

You huff. "Mind your own business, I really don't appreciate your stunt."

"What?" he furrows his brows and tries to figure out the meaning of your words. "I don't understand–"

"(y/n), please don't go– oh God." Yedam slows down to a halt at the sight of you and Doyoung. The boy beside you widens his eyes when he sees Yedam and then, the realization strikes him like lightning.

"O-oh, that was what you're talking about. Look, I can explain–"

You don't stay a while longer to hear his reasoning.

There is a reason why Doyoung has been your best friend for so long. It isn't the first time for you to fight and if you're being honest, your ego isn't that big to not forgive him. Doyoung can be awfully nosy and loves to stick his nose into someone else's business. Therefore, it doesn't surprise you that you invite him over on an afternoon after he left fifty voice messages and over a hundred text messages in your inbox.

"Please don't start your explanation with 'I was trying to do you a favor'." you sigh in distress.

"I was trying to do you a favor," he bluntly says and it costs you your willpower to not invite him out of your place. Doyoung sends you a crooked grin before he turns serious. "Okay, real talk now. I was just... surprised when I saw Yedam's name on your neck. And since I already knew that one of Yedam's tattoos is your name, I thought it'd be a good idea to make you two meet. Turns out to be that I was a fool."

"You're always a fool, please," you deadpan and snicker when he shoots you a death glare.

"Hey! I was trying to be an empathetic best friend here! I just breathed and here you are, clowning me. That is disrespectful!"

He attempts to throw you off your chair by aiming a pillow at you. Instead, he almost knocks down the succulent on your desk. The next few minutes, you bicker for a while and start an impromptu tickle fight to lighten up the mood. It's when you both lie on the carpeted floor and your heartbeats have fallen back into a steady rhythm that he addresses the problem at hand.

"Why don't you want to give him a chance?"

"My gut says it won't end well," you reply slowly.

Doyoung shuffles to the side to get a good glimpse of your face. "You know, the chance is high that Yedam's your soulmate. He's got your name too, after all. And he's willing to give it a shot, y'know? One meeting doesn't sound bad and won't be the end of the world."

You hesitate, considering the implied proposal with a frown. "It's complicated."

"So you're willing to let the glorious chance pass by?"

"Yes."

Taken aback by your rapid answer, Doyoung adds in a quieter tone, "Not many people manage to find even one of the two people. Even less find the one who wears their names too. You should definitely consider it, (y/n)."

"I get where you're coming from, but..." your voice trails off.

Doyoung watches you with expectant eyes. "But?" he drawls.

But you don't understand.

"You're not gonna stop bugging me until I say yes, are you?" you say instead. Although you'd trust your life to him, you don't want to burden him with your tattoo dilemma. He may not let it show too much, but you know he has his worries and he doesn't need to break his head about the meaning of your only tattoo too.

"Do you want the truth or a fabrication of lies?" he asks with a suggestively raised brow, making you roll his eyes at his silliness.

"Fine, I'll meet up with him one time. He shouldn't get his hopes up, though."

For some reason, you find yourself walking into the café fifteen minutes earlier. You blame it on the fact that there surprisingly was no traffic jam, although it's rush hour. As it turns out, you're not the only one to arrive earlier than expected, because Yedam enters the coffee shop five minutes after you.

He notices you right away, seated in between red and black cushions at the far back of the room, but doesn't steer towards you instantly. Instead, he stands in line and orders two drinks before he approaches you. An uncertain, shy smile adorns his face and contrary to the first time you met him, he's different. His hands shake so much that he spills one cup a little bit when he sets them down and he can't bring it over himself to look you in the eye. Yedam's treading lightly, abnormally careful about his own actions.

"I got you hot chocolate. I hope you don't mind," he mumbles and slides the cup towards you.

There's the need to tell him not to worry and loosen up. However, you don't manage to do so. What you do manage is a quiet "thanks" before you take a sip of it.

Well, at least Doyoung wasn't lying when he said that the café served delicious beverages.

Awkward, heavy and pressuring don't even come remotely close to describe the silence hovering above you. Even an innocent bystander can tell that neither of you is exactly comfortable in your shoes.

"So." Yedam's ears perk up when you clear your throat. "You wanted to meet me."

"Yeah…" his voice trails off as he taps his fingers on his paper cup. This time, he's wearing a blue wool sweater with sleeves so long they cover up his palms. You fight the urge to ask him if you could see his left wrist.

"Uh, give me a second to mentally prepare myself." he stammers before he starts anew. "I'm going to be honest here. I was happy when Doyoung called me and said he knew someone who wore my name. I had a great time that night and I, um, guess that things wouldn't have ended like that if you figured it out in a different manner."

"I'm going to be honest too," you confess. "I had a lot of fun that night, well, before it started to go downhill. It's just, I don't think I'll be able to cope with this." You gesture on your own wrist.

Something that hits very close to desperation is written on his face. For the first time, he looks at you directly and tries to read you. "Listen, I'm not trying to force anything on you. I know not everyone cares about the marks and that's fine. I just..."

He hesitates, tries to find the right words. Judging by the tone of his voice and the quiet sigh that escapes his lips, you know he doesn't belong to the group of people who don't care, unlike you – and he is very well aware of that too.

"You just?" you probe. Though you are quite sure what words will follow next, you need to hear them come out of his own mouth.

Yedam glances at you unsurely, wariness audible in his voice when he speaks up. "I was just hoping to, uh, get to know you. It doesn't have to be something long lasting, I swear. If you feel uncomfortable, we can break it off at any time. I was hoping that we could at least try."

There are many, many red lights blinking in your mind. This suggestion is nothing more than a very, very bad idea. In your case, the journey doesn't even matter. It doesn't matter if you end up being more than friends. What matters is the result. And, well, the result is inevitable.

Amongst the many, many stop signs that practically scream DON'T DO IT, there is one brain cell that begs to differ. Yedam looks at you expectantly, pleadingly even. His desperation is visible in his eyes as if they held stardust which reflects his every emotion.

You inhale deeply through your nose in an attempt to steady your frantic heartbeat. It's bound to end in a tragedy and you should care more, but you don’t have the heart to reject him.

Hopefully, you don't sound so unconvinced and scared when you respond.

"Trying sounds good."

Yedam is careful. He's so careful it genuinely surprises you. He doesn't push you to anything, works his way to more personal questions (though so far, the most personal question he's asked you was how long you've been friends with Doyoung) and tries his best to cater everything to your needs. It's by the fifth time you meet up in person when he finds the courage to ask for your number. Truth be told, you can practically see him pondering five minutes about each text he writes before sending it to you. The absence of emojis in his messages just confirm how nervous he still is.

It's still awkward when you talk and most of the time, it's Yedam who asks questions. Yet he's quick to pick up certain likes and dislikes, like your favorite ice cream flavor or your least favorite type of music.

It goes without saying that Doyoung practically demands regular updates. He was over the moon when you told him how your first date ended and even paid you bubble tea. That was how happy he was for you.

"He's not as bad as expected," you say as you nonchalantly look for good Netflix movies to watch.

Doyoung snorts in response. "Of course I knew that already. I've known Yedam for a good while now and seriously, all he does is sing the High School Musical soundtrack and swoon about music producers."

"He sings?"

You practically feel Doyoung rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. "Duh. That guy's a singing god. But you have my word, (y/n), I'll end him and twist out his intestines if he hurts you. You really don't have anything to worry about."

"The only thing I worry about is you becoming a potential murderer," you say in a monotonous voice. (In a way, it’s ironic, given how there is bound to be someone who wears Doyoung’s name with the negative connotation.)

That causes your best friend to laugh in an exaggerated manner. "Very funny. In all seriousness though–" he grabs a handful of chips and stuffs it in his mouth, "–how do you not know that he sings? Even though you know he produces his own songs? I thought you talk lots."

"The thing is–" you shuffle to the side and hope he won't spit any crumbs on you, "–he's the one who talks. I just listen and answer his questions."

Doyoung sends you an unbelievable look that's equivalent to 'Are you serious?' "Then ask some questions back, you fool!"

"I don't know what to ask though!"

"What? You truly are unbelievable." he groans and throws his head back. "I guess I have to step up my game and help out a poor soul, huh?"

You throw him an offended look. "I am not an imbecile!"

"I never said that, dumbass," he tuts. "But back to the point. Yedam likes music, just recommend him some songs and he's gonna love you. Or have a High School Musical marathon with him. For all I know, attend a concert with him or just let him show you his own songs– the possibilities are endless! You always meet up at that café and although it's nice and cozy there, it's getting boring. If you only knew how panicky Yedam gets when I bring you up in our conversations: pitiful! That's what it is!"

"I don't know if that'd be a good idea–"

"Listen, I have no idea why you are so against getting close to him and since we already had this talk, I'm not gonna bring it up again. But for the love of God, if you already agree on trying, then put in some effort yourself!" he exclaims and with every word, his hand gestures become bigger. It even reaches the point where you're certain that he's going to hit you in the face.

Nonetheless, he’s right. You desperately need to step up your game.

Yedam is confused when you send him a link while he’s talking about something you don’t bother listening to. His irritation is visible in his scrunched brows, in the way his gaze switches from you, then back to his phone, and in the little hitch in his voice.

“They say your music taste tells a lot by yourself.” you shrug and try to sound as casual as possible. “And, uh, perhaps I heard that you like listening to new songs.”

The confusion morphs into a small yet genuine smile once he sees that it’s a link to a Spotify playlist. “You’re not wrong about that. While we’re at it, here.”

Your phone vibrates, signifying a new text message. Just like him, you fail to hide your amusement when you see the link to his own Spotify playlist, followed by a SoundCloud profile.

“Let me guess, the SoundCloud one is where you post your own music?” you joke lightly but when you look up and meet Yedam’s bewildered expression, you gulp. “Did I say something insensitive?”

Yedam hastily shakes his head. “No, not at all! I’m just surprised that you remembered that I produce some songs too.”

“I mean, it’s hard not to forget that when Doyoung gushed about that for a good hour and you like to swoon about how much of an idol Cha Cha Malone is to you.”

He looks at you with a stunned expression. “Do I really talk that often about him?”

“No. I just remembered that, that’s all.” you smile lightly. Regardless of whether or not Yedam buys it, the apples of his cheeks are dusted red and he looks down as if he hopes for the floor to swallow him whole.

Quickly realizing that the atmosphere might turn into an embarrassingly long and awkward silence, you scroll through the Spotify playlist and chuckle when you recognize songs you haven’t heard in a while yet.

“Do you have something against my music taste?” Yedam asks, partly wary, partly sounding as if he was ready to brawl.

“No, of course not!” you explain once you calm down. “It’s just, it’s been a while since I heard the Jonas Brothers. Also, uh, I’ve never seen High School Musical and you have a lot of songs in it.”

Yedam looks like he's about to jump out of the window and his eyeballs might have fallen out of its sockets after your confession.

"What did you even do in your childhood?" He acts as if it was an unforgivable crime and then adds with conviction, "First of all, the entire soundtrack is on the playlist. Second of all, what are you waiting for? We need to catch up with things you should've done when you were a child!"

“What are you–” Before you get to finish your thoughts, he grabs ahold of your hand and leads you out of the café. “Where are we going?”

“My place,” he replies without looking back at you as he picks up his pace. “You need to watch all movies. I refuse to leave you uncultured.”

Your attempts of not having to watch any of the films prove themselves futile. That, and the other, unexpectedly childlike side of him make you stay. Even if you planned on running away, you couldn’t anyway. With the way your hands are intertwined, it’s hard to do so. Though by now you’re practically rushing down streets and occasionally bump into a pedestrian or two, the incredulous look on their faces when they see you hand in hand is something you don’t miss.

You don’t know whether the feeling bubbling in your gut should feel warm.

When Doyoung said that Yedam knew every single song from High School Musical, he meant every single song.

You tried, you really tried to pay attention to the storyline. However, it’s not that easy when five minutes into the movie, the first song comes up and Yedam belts out every single note in a theatrical way. You find yourself anticipating the next song so he’ll sing more rather than the actual plot progression.

When Doyoung said that Yedam could sing, he meant he could sing. It would’ve been nice of him if he had warned you beforehand how angelic Yedam’s voice was because your jaw dropped to the floor the moment he started to sing. You didn’t know what you expected, but you certainly did not expect to be swept off the ground in a span of 0.08998 seconds.

“Did I just ruin your fun?” Yedam asks carefully, a bashful smile plastered on his face once the first song came to an end.

The question startles you and you blink at him in awe before you feel the heat creep up your cheeks. “What? No! I mean, no. I was just surprised that your voice is that nice,” you manage to choke out.

His smile widens, and your face flushes a deep red.

“So you don’t mind me singing along?”

“I prefer your voice over that guy right there…” you pause. “Wait, what? Forget what I said.”

“Me? Forgetting that? You wish,” he beams and erupts in laughter when you cover your face with your hands. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll sing along.”

You find yourself listening to Yedam singing anything your heart desires many times after.

While you still have no idea what exactly the plot of High School Musical is up until now, you indulge in the heavenly voice of your human jukebox even more with every passing day.

Depending on his mood, you discover the many facets of his personality. On days where he’s tired and you happen to stop by just because you’re casually in the neighborhood, he shows you his self composed songs. Although the bags under his eyes are impossible to miss, he keeps his head held up high and urges you to comment on all of his songs despite rather wanting to hide under the covers.

On days where you’re tired and happen to be lounging on his couch, he loves to lull you to sleep. His voice is soft and gentle, just like his hands playing with your hair as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Then there are days where it seems as if stole the sun’s job or had drunk too many energy drinks and jumps around like a lunatic while belting out the melody of My Heart Will Go On.

Today seems like a day where he’s just emitting happiness.

Truth be told, you don’t know when exactly you’ve let down your guard. The current scenario is too sickeningly domestic for your liking – with you leaning your head on his shoulder while his arm is lazily draped around you. The third installment of High School Musical running on screen doesn’t quite suit your taste either, yet you don’t make any amends to put some distance between you.

“Do you know how to dance?” Yedam asks casually, eyes glued on the screen. Currently, Troy and Gabriella are at the school rooftop and it seems as if the next song is going to start soon.

Your eyes narrow at him. “What are you planning?”

“I’ll take it as a no. But that’s fine too.”

“Yedam, seriously, what are you planning?”

There’s a gleeful twinkle in his eyes when he faces you. Before you can ask again, he stands up and pulls you up with him.

“Just trust me on this. It’ll be fun,” he interrupts you in the middle of your doubts. That shuts you up for good, yet it doesn’t hinder you from sending him warning glares.

You stay blissfully unaware of his ulterior motives until he firmly grabs one hand and puts your other on his shoulder, followed by planting his free hand on your waist. He shoots you a fond and reassuring smile to soothe your panicked self. Then slowly and surely, the first guitar strums come out of the speakers before Gabriella starts singing in the background.

A quick glance behind Yedam to the screen, where the lovestruck couple is also in the same position as you, is enough to let you know in which direction this is heading to.

“No. No. No. I can’t dance, much less slow dance–”

“I’ll guide you. Just keep your eyes on me,” he muses and tilts your chin so you lock eyes.

There are so many cells in you that are screaming at you to look away, but you’re unable to do so. There’s something behind the fragments of fondness in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher, but either way, you get lost in his eyes and your breath hitches.

“Let me guide you,” he repeats in a tone that makes you melt in a matter of seconds. You’re pretty sure your legs would’ve given up at this point if it weren’t for him who takes a step back and tugs you with him.

It goes without saying that you feel like a newborn baby deer that’s still clumsy on its legs. In the first few tries, you’re uncoordinated, stiff as a board and step on his toes a few times, and you’re not able to look away from him. He winces when you misplace your foot and you shoot him an apologetic look in return, but after some time, you get the hang out of it. Midway through the song, your legs no longer feel as if they’re going to mutate into jelly as you sway through the expanse of his living room.

“Look, you’re doing just fine,” Yedam reassures warmly before a grin etches across his lips; as if he just came up with a brilliant masterplan. “Wanna try a spin?”

“No,” you shoot out like a bullet and cause him to giggle. “This is enough for today.”

“Fine then, maybe next time.”

The rest of the song is spent in comfortable silence, warm smiles and occasionally knocking over a book or two when you happen to bump against the shelf. When the song comes to a slow end, you find yourself coming to a standstill. It’s just then when you realized how dangerously close Yedam really is. His breath hits your lips and you pick up the slight scent of spearmint.

You’re not the only one who notices. Yedam’s gaze switches from your eyes to your lips. Confliction is prominent in his face. Even though you’ve grown more comfortable around him, a feeling similar to home even, he’s aware he can’t cross all your limits yet. He doesn’t dare to prod further, lean a little bit closer and you know he’s wordlessly giving you the shots.

At this point, your heart practically hammers against your chest and you wouldn’t put it past him to hear it too. Perhaps, you’re in too deep and for a moment, you slowly move closer until it’s just a matter of a few millimeters separating you.

That is until you’re aware of the fact that you’re clinging onto his hand as if he were your lifeline. The realization causes a knot in your stomach. Suddenly, the doubts flash your mind; the fear that initially overcame you when you first met him at the party, when you found out who Yedam was.

There’s nothing wrong with Yedam. He’s nice and talented and genuinely cares. Yet at the same time, you’re not certain if there’s nothing wrong with him. You can’t be fully certain of him and that realization strikes you like lightning once more.

You try to ignore the sadness that washes over him for a short moment when you pull away.

“I’m sorry. It’s just a little complicated to explain,” you mumble apologetically.

“It’s fine,” he replies in the same manner.

There’s no doubt that you can see the genuineness in his eyes, but you can’t tell whether he was really telling the truth or was trying to manipulate himself into thinking that it truly is fine for him.

Surprisingly, as well as to your luck, he doesn’t bring up the episode again. In fact, he acts as if it never happened and honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You’ve become a little more cautious ever since, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him performing a little bit of skinship on you. He still sings for you, proudly shows you his latest songs and becomes cozy around you whenever you watch a movie.

Just like any other day you’re at his place, you’re sitting on the couch and currently scrolling mindlessly through your inbox while Yedam is on the other end of the couch.

“I really like you.”

You hope you misheard what he said. Yes, you definitely misheard it, you’re positive of that. The intensity of his gaze when your eyes meet begs to differ though.

Honestly, the day was bound to come sooner or later. After all, you’re not that oblivious. Yedam is similar to you, you like to think – he wears his heart on his sleeve. But whereas you let your bad sides show, he puts all the good in him on display.

“How are you so sure that we’re soulmates? Do you have any other reason besides the fact that I wear your name too?” you ask after a moment of silence. It costs you your entire willpower to not lash out on him and say once more that you’re not interested in something more than what you already have, but he wouldn’t believe that.

And frankly, you’re not sure if you would believe yourself either.

“I do,” he responds, voice full of conviction. “I say it so easily because I found the other person already, and I know that he’s not my soulmate.”

“Again, what makes you so certain about that?”

Yedam purses his lips and hesitates before he sits directly next to you. He opens his mouth several times, but no words come out.

Then suddenly, without any verbal warning whatsoever, he turns to you completely and tugs on the collar of his sweater, pulling it so far down until he exposes a strip of skin underneath his left collarbone.

You gape at the sight, hope you’re hallucinating. You really hope this is just a trick of the light. It must be one.

The pitch black ink contrasts with his skin, and though the letters are fine lines and easy to miss if you don’t pay attention, the name leaves a burning image in your head and a foul taste in your mouth.

Kim Doyoung.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to kill me if he really wants to. And trust me, he’ll definitely have a reason to do so.” Yedam chuckles dryly as he covers the tattoo.

Although you already know the answer, you ask flabbergasted. “Does he know?”

“That I wear his name? Unless he wears mine, which I highly doubt, no. He would’ve confronted me about this by now if he knew.”

It explains a lot. No, it explains everything. It explains why Yedam oozed confidence and was sure that you were bound to last a lifetime. It explains why he looks at you as if you were the center of his world without a doubt. It explains why he’s not afraid of you. He’s only been treading lightly because of you.

You sneak another glance at him and the sight causes something in you to break. Yedam is sitting right beside you, watching you carefully and pleadingly even. The specks of glimmer he holds in his eyes, the ones that reveal his feelings, aren’t even specks anymore. They’ve dissolved and you’re looking right through him. He wears his emotions on full display now, the desperation is prominent more than ever.

He’s treading lightly yet is needy for an answer and slowly reaches out for your hand. Before it can get so far, you turn away from him and croak out a weak “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t trust me?” you wince at the hurt laced in the undertone of his voice.

“It has nothing to do with me trusting you. It’s me, okay? It’s just–”

“–complicated, I get it,” he spits out the words as if they were acid and suddenly, the couch feels much lighter.

“Yedam, I didn’t mean it like that!” you stand up and grab the hem of his sweater in an attempt to bring him to a standstill. “I’m sorry.”

Yedam stands still, but he doesn’t turn around to meet you. He takes in a deep breath and sighs audibly, but you don’t miss the hitch in his breath as if he’s trying to contain something else.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–” he pauses, stabilizes his shaky pitch before he reaches back and detaches your grip, “Nevermind.”

He leaves you alone in his living room and it costs you your entire energy to not break down onto the floor.

He doesn’t text you anymore and as much as you itch to contact him, you don’t muster up the courage to actually do it.

Doyoung also noticed the shift in your relationship. Fortunately, he doesn’t pry further and never brings up Yedam in your conversations. You’ve never told him any details but you’re relatively sure that Yedam said some things to him.

Either way, Doyoung remains a great friend. He tries his best to lift up your spirits – even bought you a gallon of your favorite ice cream flavor along with a lifetime supply of candy of all sorts. Once he realized that his wallet was suffering, he resorted to cooking your favorite food, even if that almost resulted in him burning down the kitchen.

However, as much as Doyoung might distract you from your pity party, he’s not a permanent fix. You know it and he knows it. Therefore, it really doesn’t faze you when he brings up the last person you’d want on your mind (to your dismay, he’s the only person on your mind).

“He’s also miserable right now, you know?”

When you don’t respond, he sighs and drops on the seat next to you, seeing it as his cue to continue. “He’s waiting for your call. I don’t know what went down between the two of you, but you better sort it out. Not only am I running out of ideas to get you out of your house, but I’m also pretty sure you two will end up as living corpses if you don’t fix it soon.”

You lift up your head and purse your lips. “It’s not going to end well.”

“You always say that.” he rolls his eyes, sounding more fed up this time. “Yedam didn’t tell me a lot and I know you get turn hyperventilated whenever it comes to your tattoos, so I’m not going ask about that. I never did and never will, get it? All I know is that Yedam dished out his soulmate situation from start to finish. You should trust him too, wholeheartedly.”

“I would’ve done that if I could a long time ago!”

“If I could,” he mimics, two octaves higher than your actual tone, “You can! I don’t want to guilt trip you or anything, but it’s only fair if he knows too. He’s poured his heart out to you, why can’t you do the same? Just think like this: say we live in a world where soulmate tattoos don’t exist, would you like him?”

“I…” your voice trails off.

Seemingly satisfied with your reaction, Doyoung sighs and stands up.

“I think you know the answer too. Talk to him, please.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never invited Yedam over to your place. That’s about to change when you send him your address and find him at your doorstep later in the evening. The sun is long gone and in its place shines the moon along with the stars. Their light is enough to taint your living room in a soft glow and it’s enough to notice every single one of his features.

He’s tired, looks like he hasn’t slept well in days, yet frankly, there’s something oddly comforting about his presence.

“You called?” he asks to break the ice.

Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. You could’ve also practiced weeks before but you doubt you’d ever get rid of the uncertainty laced in your shaky voice when you start to talk about that topic.

You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves. “I realized something. You never asked to see my tattoo.” It’s not what you rehearsed, but as long as it leads to the point, it’s alright.

“I didn’t want to pressure you,” he responds.

You observe his expression, narrow your eyes in a brief moment of contemplation before you slowly undo the scarf you’re wearing. Yedam is quick to guess where this is heading to and quickly stammers, “Wait, you don’t have to justify yourself in front of me!”

“No, I want to,” you say with conviction and turn around so he can see the black ink at the back of your neck. Although the room is just dimly lit, you know that he can see it clearly. For a moment, you get goosebumps as his fingers ghost over the ink, but you let him bask in his fascination.

“The truth is, this is the only tattoo I was born with,” you confess after a moment of silence.

He gulps. “What?”

“I only wear your name, Yedam. You’re smart, I’m sure you understand the weight of that.” You turn around but don’t find the courage nor the energy to look him in the eye. The silence is heavy, unbearable, and literally nothing about it lifts the pressure off your shoulders. You don’t need to see him to know how the revelation shatters his view on everything in millions of shards.

“Look at me, please,” he pleads instead, and when you shake your head in response, he gently cups your face. You have no other choice but to do as and are startled when all you see is not pure horror, but soft, pure and wholehearted adoration in him.

“God, (y/n), I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Believe me when I say you mean so much to me. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to have you voluntarily open up to me. and now that I see the situation from your view, I get why you were so unwilling at first. But trust me when I say I only want the best for you and would never put you in danger.” The raw vulnerability in his voice makes you believe him for a while and keeps you from breaking out in tears.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I do know that. Did you already forget? Doyoung is my potential killer,” he says matter-of-factly and sends you a broken smile, “So before I kill you, I’ll make sure that he ends me first.��

“Great, and then my best friend ends up in jail.”

This time, he genuinely laughs. You, on the other hand, can’t bite down the small smile that paves its way on your lips from that weak joke.

“You’re right, I can’t guarantee your safety from me,” Yedam admits once he’s calmed down and tucks a strand of your hair in place before he goes on, “But I can guarantee that I’ll do anything in my power to make you happy. Have you even looked at my SoundCloud profile? Ever since I met you the majority of my releases are love songs!”

“So you admit that the songs are all about me?” you playfully raise a brow at him.

“Of course they’re all about you.” he breathes out as if the weight on his shoulders was lifted off of him. Yedam still looks like he could need some sleep, but there is no longer a sign of restlessness. He is at ease, and it shows the most when he adds fondly, “It doesn’t have to last forever. We can break it off if you feel unsafe. I hope we can at least try.”

The course of this conversation is oddly reminiscent to your first date in the café, you think. Back then, you were more than convinced that the only way this would end was as a tragedy. Back then, you just said your answer out of pity, one might say. But that was back then, and this time, you’re more than serious and more than convinced when you respond with a smile.

“Trying sounds good.”

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tuwam · 4 years

Text

break.

@consilian the au where kihyun is everything his parents want him to be )

“i’m going to kill him.”

kihyun has said this, a record of ten times since ahyeon’s entered his space. he’s only ever known for saying this when he finds time to frequent the PC Bang. since that’s not too often these words don’t usually leave his lips, only in celebration of a win during a battle. it’s why the minute the words leave his lips ahyeon’s only response since she’s walked in has been laughter. laughter and a pat on his back as he attempts to get his bags ready for class. he’s got a marketing seminar in thirty minutes and his entire schedule’s being thrown off because,

“why is it my job to escort him, he can read.” ‘he’s new here right? you said he’s coming from overseas.’ “he reads korean and understands fine, he just wants to be a pain.”

almost on cue his phone rings again and while he’s hoping it’s haneul to call him away for work, it’s not. it’s just another affirmation of what he’s been telling aheyon all week. he looks at the text, with emojis and perfectly articulated korean ( enough to curse and use inappropriate slang ) kihyun’s brows furrow and he rolls his eyes so hard ahyeon rests a hand on his shoulder.

‘you two really don’t get along.’ “we don’t really - anything.”

you two being kihyun and his step-brother. or - half-brother? after adopting him, his parents found themselves traveling wherever his artwork took them, and being the soft-hearted people they are, they picked up minsoo with little complaint. all it took were bright eyes and the defeated frame of a twelve-year old. kihyun was - 17 at the time and well ready to spend the next few years applying for schools. that time was cut short as he began touring art exhibits with haneul, and taking time to study abroad. naturally, his temperamental and copycat brother decided to study abroad and spent his first year overseas in new york studying god knows what and partying with god knows who.

now he’s back here ( after being yanked from the states ) and going to kihyun’s university and though kihyun’s classes are limited to extra seminars and being a teaching assistant, he’s been asked to help.

asked - ordered.

‘show your brother around he’s been excited to see your school’ his mother had said. yeah right.

“he doesn’t need my help finding all the party spots.” ‘like you didn’t party your freshman year.’ “the parties that haneul frequents were - different. my brother parties with frats.”

ahyeon’s nose wrinkles at the implication and kihyun takes the moment to grab his jacket and her scarf and head outside. no use letting her catch a cold and facing daniel’s wrath later at the seminar. see kihyun finds it very easy to care for others, to nag at them and help them through things like it’s second nature. with minsoo it’s never that easy, it’s never going to be that easy. while they’re both very clever, minsoo is cunning where kihyun is careful. they’re both deliberate but kihyun is collected, minsoo scattered, like he knows he carries far too many storms in him and likes displacing any and everything around him.

why else would he demand to go to kihyun’s university when he’s given no interest in higher education.

it’s a trap.

kihyun’s five steps out his door when he realizes how correct he is.

‘are you making up lies about me - hyung?’ minsoo is right before them, a shit-eating grin that splits his otherwise flawlessly misleading face. minsoo’s got sharp features, and if the eyeliner wasn’t enough, the white hair is certainly a nice touch. kihyun remembers - he hasn’t seen his brother since - well - he’s not going to think about that. instead he folds his arms in, and stares minsoo down, lavish peacoat and all. he’d look like an ideal student, tie fastened and shirt buttoned up, but kihyun knows better.

“you ditched the driver and stole the motorbike from the house.” ‘details. details. speaking of - who’s the friend?’ “she’s unavailable. why did you need to meet me?”

kihyun’s height isn’t necessarily anything to hold over his brother, but he stills steps in the way of minsoo’s line of sight, his scowl deep and unforgiving. minsoo just smiles, holds his arms up in surrender.

‘i needed a tour -’ “i’m busy.” if kihyun cuts minsoo off, the younger doesn’t say anything, he must expect it. ‘i can always bother haneul.’ “he’s busy too, go to student affairs.” speaking of, kihyun should probably warn haneul before minsoo has a chance to show up uninvited. because he has before, and he will. what a day that had been, his brother’s idea of a good time was crashing an exhibition and nearly tearing a hole through one of haneul’s canvases.

‘aw, you’re not going to give your precious brother a tour? what should i tell mom and dad? that you left their youngest to fend for himself on a huge campus?’ that’s the last thing kihyun wants. his parents have an extreme sensitivity when it comes to protecting minsoo and any sort of call showing disobedience to their explicit orders will be an earful. it’s not something he wants to deal with but then again - minsoo is not something he wants to deal with either.

‘i know someone who can help.’ kihyun’s never reminded of why he cherishes having ahyeon around except for moment like this. she notices, she has to, exactly how exhausted he gets dealing with minsoo, the back and forth banter always ending in a stalemate. minsoo always knowing that kihyun would rather just deal with it and kihyun knowing minsoo will not back down. it’s tiring. it feels like days have passed before they finish a conversation. ahyeon steps forward and kihyun knows he has some questions to answer when it’s all over.

‘i didn’t get your name, miss?’ ‘ahyeon, one of kihyun’s friends.’

kihyun sees the wheels turning in his brother’s eyes and he wants to remind him, that no friend of his is available for him to accost. haneul is the exception because it was inevitable they cross paths, but college was his one way of separating his brother’s track record and habit for chaos from himself. still, ahyeon’s ground holds firm.

‘i have a friend in student affairs. daniel jung? he should be able to help you no problem.’ at the mention of the name kihyun has to hold back a laugh. ahyeon is a force when she wants to be. minsoo doesn’t pick up on the motion and kihyun coughs into his scarf instead. ‘until kihyun’s done with his seminar and then we can all take you for a tour. sound good?’ the way ahyeon asks, kihyun knows it’s a command rather than an option. ahyeon, just like him is good at picking up on situations and solutions, it’s why they spend hours in a PC Bang playing games.

in fact, there’s nowhere he’d rather be now.

minsoo, is also good at knowing when a battle is coming to a close. even though kihyun knows he’ll pick up later and ten times as aggressive, he knows his brother is still trying to feel out how to navigate ahyeon. it’s fine because it’ll give them the advantage. extensive as it seems, it’s what he’s done since they were young.

‘i’ll ask for him. until this afternoon then, miss ahyeon.’

as minsoo turns to head off, a wave of his hand behind him, kihyun lets out a sigh he hadn’t realized he held.

‘daniel can handle him until later.’ he nods, his fingers going at the speed of light to text haneul. ‘until then, you’re going to tell me about this brother of yours.’ kihyun can handle that. he can also handle the barrage of messages that haneul sends his way.

received: are you with ahyeon?? received: is that who drew graffiti outside the department door? received: get over here pls

he smiles.

“i’m gonna kill him.”

#consilian #{ w: kihyun. }#{ ft. minsoo. }#{ ft. haneul. }

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aseekerofthegreatperhaps · 5 years

Text

In honor of the first snow

Neil Perry x reader

I don't own Robert Frost, you or dps

It had happened over night. The soundless white snowflakes had covered the grounds of Welton knee - deep with snow without anyone noticing in the darkest hours. When you woke up, you couldn't help but be excited when you saw the snow, although it meant that it would be hella difficult to get to your classes on time. But it reminded you of your home, where you had always greeted the snow like an old friend. You dressed in silent anticipation, bathing in the grey light the weather caused. While tying your hair, you watched the shadows of the flakes dance on the floor. This season always caused a slight melancholy inside your heart, but you were looking forward to Christmas very much. Glancing at your schedule, you saw that Mathematics with Mr Wright was your first class for today. "What a waste of time that I could spend outside", you muttered to yourself quietly while putting on a hat. But it wouldn't help to complain, you would just have to do your homework quick after classes. Sighing, you pulled the door behind you shut and stepped into the hallway.

Once outside, you immediately thought that you had underestimated the cold a bit, considering you were wearing a long sleeve shirt and no scarf. Luckily, the main paths had been freed of snow and you didn't have to fight through the tons of snow. Pulling your coat tighter around you , you started the walk through the walls of snow, occasionally marvelling at the sight.

When you stumbled into the class room ten minutes later, your cheeks were reddened and your hair was completely dishelved due to the hat, but you were just glad you had arrived on time. Flopping down on your seat next to Neil, you couldn't - as usually - believe that you were friends with him and got to sit right next to him. He wasn't the most popular guy or anything, but to you, he was the most beautiful human being. And although being the only girl in an all - boys school surely made you somewhat special, you never understood why he chose to be so close to you. "Y/N?" Someone snapped their fingers in front of your face and you spun around quickly. "Are you alright?", Neil asked, his eyes laughing at you kindly. "Sure", you replied, shuffling on your chair awkwardly. Cringe. "The snow is insane, isn't it?" "Yep. Had some trouble not freezing. But the thought of algebra kept me warm." He laughed. "Alright gentlemen, in case you didn't notice, the bell just rang. If you'd be so kind to concentrate on graphs now?" Ugh. Mr Wright had eventually arrived. You groaned quietly and Neil chuckled knowingly beside you. It still happened that teachers just oversaw you, but of course you were also annoyed by the thought of graphs. Neil really was a blessing there. Throughout the lesson, he continuingly explained things to you, effortlessly solving tasks you knew would cause you trouble in the upcoming exam. You dropped your pen, the thought of the exam not helping your melancholy and stared out of the window for the rest of the lesson.

Neil

She seemed a bit more absent today. I watched as she sighed softly and tucked her hair behind her ear, probably not even noticing judging on her stare outside. I had caught her daydreaming more than once lately and wondered why. Maybe the season made her think about her family, or maybe - she was longing for a certain someone? No, I would have noticed, I told myself. She still didn't seem to notice my amateurish efforts to court her. Charlie was always telling me to "Seize the day" and "Just go for it", but it wasn't as easy. She was just - so perfect, after all and I most certainly didn't meet her standards. I averted my gaze from her and stared into my book again, not understanding the task in the slightest.

Your POV

After a gruesome lesson, you were relieved to be freed to roam the hallways with lunch in your minds. "psst, Y/N" You turned around, Neil brushing your shoulder as he did the same. "Knox?" "Sorry to disturb you two lovebirds, but Charlie demanded we meet due to the honor of the first snow". He winked at us and added :" Half seven at the cave", before leaving. Lo-lovebirds?! Was all you could think about as both of you continued walking, casually chatting. What could he possibly mean? Did someone notice your crush? Or did Neil..? No, impossible, you decided firmly. No wrong hopes. "What about we grab a few apples for later?", he asked you in a hushed voice. You hadn't even realised that you had reached the dining hall. "Y-yeah, good idea", you responded, still a bit confused and flustered.

This evening after dinner, you had the weird feeling that something special would happen. It just was a particularly magic one. With it still snowing, a quiteness had settled over Welton and it had gently smoothed out sharp shadows, making everything seem peaceful and asleep when you eventually left at six. You were supposed to meet your rebellious friends outside and so you quietly snuck down the staircase, two apples in your coat. It was dark outside already, causing you to jump slightly when you saw the silhouettes emerge from the shadows. "There she is", someone exclaimed contently, probably Charlie. "Let's go then, shall we?" You nodded and the little group made its way towards the forest. The paths were slippy and it was still freezing. "Anyone brought some more food?", you asked into the pitch black silence, your breath causing a little cloud in front of you. "I convinced Sam to borrow us some bread rolls". "Borrowed?", you laughed. "Aye, he didn't notice yet, so don't tell him sweetie",someone added. You giggled quietly and suddenly felt Neil's presence beside you. He was smiling, it was radiating off him somehow and filled you with bliss. Unbeknownst to you, Neil had had a strange pep talk with Charlie minutes before your arrival. He planned to finally confess to you, but he still didn't know how. "Just charm her, Neil!", Charlie had cried out. "Compliment her! All girls like to hear how wonderful they are". Compliment her. Neil had thought about this mission for the last thirty minutes, but how could he ever able to sum up what you meant to him in an attempt to flirt? He would have to do it spontaneous. "Watch out Neil the entrance!" He ducked just in time. "Heh, head in the clouds today?", you joked. Neil forced a smile and motioned for you to climb into the cave first.

Inside, you immediately tried to ignite a fire. You sat down on your usual spot and weren't surprised when Neil got down beside you. He always followed you in school too, being your invisible shadow, but today he seemed to always stick with you. It grew darker every minute and it was lightly snowing by now, a few snowflakes tumbling into the cave. "Look at that fine snow", Charlie exclaimed, attempting to successfully light a cigarette. "Let's search for snow poems!" You chuckled. Those boys. "Oh wait wait I got one! ", Meeks shouted, adding to the overall amusement. " Dust of snow! By Robert Frost", he said, standing up. "'The way a crow shook down on me the dust of snow from a hemlock tree, has given my heart a change of mood and saved some parts of a day I had rued." He bowed ironically and you clapped for him. That poem described your winter melancholy perfectly.

A couple of hours later, you all decided to head back to the academy to not get caught. As everyone had climbed outside, you realised you and Neil were the last one left. "Well.. We should probably get going", you said, trying to destroy the wall of awkwardness that slowly built up between you. Neil was behaving weird, you thought. "Y/N, do you uhh do you know you have really pretty hair?" Hair? What was he talking about? "I - I never paid special attention to it, but.. thanks?", you said, confused. Where did he think he was going? "I just um- and you're very smart too!", he added, as if he had just realised it. "Thanks?" You were blushing pretty hard right now. Was he just messing with you? Did he know about your crush? "Gosh, this is really creepy! How did Charlie not know I'd be so bad at this..", he mumbled to himself, not looking at you. "Neil?" His head snapped up. "Did Charlie tell you" - you tried to calm your racing heart. It was now and never. - " that I.. like you?" There. You said it. You had just confessed what you had carried with you the past few months. You avoided eye contact. " You probably didn't mean that", you laughed and tried to blink the tears in your eyes away. You failed. "Y/N". His voice was painfully gentle now. Pity. You couldn't bear it and turned away from him. "Neil, I don't - I'm fine, really, just embarrassed and-" You couldn't finish that sentence, because in the blink of an eye, he had turned you around, his hand at the small of your back and the other supporting your neck, as he leaned down and firmly kissed you.

When you parted, he wiped your tears off lovingly and rested his forehead against yours. "That's exactly what I meant". You grinned and bit your lip. "Catch me if you can", you whispered, running outside into the gleaming white.

Ok pls lemme know in the comments what you think of this sappy - af - one shot :)

#neil perry x reader #dead poets society #x reader #not requested #but i live for neil #sappy #fluff #slight angst #dead poets society x reader

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warriorqueen1991 · 7 years

Text

Razorblades And Lemon Juice (pt. 15)

Characters: Vampire Negan X Reader

Warnings: I don’t wanna spoil anything so just know that this chapter doesn’t have anything worse than what I’ve already exposed you to already lol

Notes: This chapter is dedicated to @noodlecupcakes thank you so much for everything bestie ;)

LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ♡♡♡♡

————————————————————

Staring down at Negan’s lifeless corpse you furrowed your brow in confusion, the walker was swaying back and forth in the corner.

His eyes pulsing with gold every few minutes.

He was in there, somewhere.

But how were you going to get him back?

Pulling his jacket open and removing his scarf you swallowed roughly at the ugly wounds. Biting your lip in thought you walked to the bathroom, grabbing the large bag of medical supplies dumping it’s contents on the bed.

The walker growled, chomping it’s jaws at the window as it stumbled around.

Sifting through the supplies you quickly snatched up some gauze and a needle and thread. When Negan had been suffering from his spear wound he had slept a lot, maybe he was just healing slower than normal.

Glancing at his pale features and bruised eyes you shook your head, he wasn’t sleeping and he sure as hell wasn’t healing.

Examining the slash across his throat you pressed the skin together, you had never done this before.

Sure you had seen it done several times but seeing and doing were two very different things.

Biting your lip you slipped the needle through his skin trying to keep your hands from shaking.

It was a slow process but soon his skin was back together, it wasn’t pretty but at least his throat wasn’t hanging open anymore.

Glancing over at the walker who was shuffling to the bed you lifted Negan’s shirt to look at the two stab wounds on his side. Pressing the skin together you placed a butterfly bandage on both of them with a large patch of gauze, taping it down generously.

Next was the stab wound on his stomach, letting out a deep sigh you quickly sewed it together.

Placing a piece of gauze over it you rubbed his stomach gently before looking over at the walker.

“Come on….do something” you growled, the walker bumped into the bed with an angry hiss.

Getting to your feet you shoved it away from the bed “come on!!” your face twisted in anger as you slammed your fists against its plated chest.

“GIVE HIM BACK!!!”

The walker growled stumbling back into the wall as it’s eyes glowed softly. You grimaced as tears welled up in your eyes “give him back…pl…please”.

But the dead one just stumbled forward, resting it’s head against you.

Closing your eyes you pushed it back slowly your eyes drifting to the wood floor and the large blood stain beneath your feet.

Your eyes widened.

Blood.

Sprinting from the room you shoved open the door to the freezer, there were three bags of your blood still resting near the wall. Grabbing them up in your arms you took off back to his room, pressing your back against the partially open door you turned to toss the blood at his legs.

The walker was watching you intently as you moved Negan’s head to open his mouth lifting his chin slightly.

Ripping the end off one of the bags with your teeth you slowly poured the blood into his mouth, rubbing his throat as some of it leaked from his lips.

Going through all three bags you rubbed his chest and stomach trying get things working “come on…come on”.

Squeezing your eyes shut you pressed your head against his shoulder.

The sound of growling and a groaning hiss made you lift your eyes to watch the armored walker shuffle across the room.

Focusing on the spilled contents of the medical bag you bit your lip as you looked at the scalpel sticking up from the sheets.

Moving to grab the blade you took a deep breath.

Either way your pain would be over.

Moving his body so you were sitting behind him, you wrapped your arm around his neck using your other hand to slice your wrist. Hissing you pressed your wrist to his mouth tilting his head back, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against him.

The walker was growling, stumbling its way to the side of the bed. Your eyes fluttering open with a grimace as he grabbed your arm tugging you with a hiss.

Jerking away from him you pointed the bloody scalpel at its rotted face “back the fuck off”.

Growling it grabbed your arm yanking you from the bed. Shoving it away from you your fingers dropped the scalpel in the struggle. Turning over on your stomach you quickly grabbed your knife from under the bed as the walker snached ahold of your ankel.

Screaming in anger as more blood poured from your wrist you twisted around stabbing the walker through its golden eye.

Your body moving reflexively

Your eyes widened in shock.

What the hell did you do?

“Noooo!!!”

Crawling across the floor you grabbed the walker as it rolled off you with a low growl.

“what have I done?” Your head was hurting, you felt dizzy.

Trying to keep your eyes open you flopped back to the edge of the bed grabbing Negan’s wrist as you dropped to the floor.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying, you had failed him…it was over.

Your eyes rolled around as his body suddenly began thrashing on the bed, his deep voice crying out in pain.

You gasped.

Your vision blurring as you felt his fingers grasp your bleeding wrist.

closing your eyes you let darkness take you with a smile.

****

Drip

Jerking up in bed you screamed, your whole body felt like it was burning. Your eyes overflowed with tears as you grit your teeth.

Dropping back to the sticky sheets you blinked at the still open window.

The sun was setting, the sky bathed in a beautiful orange glow.

What happened?

Looking at the open bathroom door you noticed the dripping sink.

Why did that seem strange?

Rubbing your eyes you looked to the other side of the bed, Negan’s body was still laying beside you.

You grimaced lifting your wrist at your bandaged flesh, furrowing your brow in confusion.

How did you get patched up?

Rolling over you wrapped your throbbing arm around his waist “I’m so sorry” you whispered snuggling your face into his chest.

“s’not your fault princess”

Flinching as fingers ran through your hair you jerked up away from his body.

Negan’s eyes were barely open, he looked rough but you felt like your heart was about to burst.

You had never been so happy in your entire life.

More tears fell down your blotchy cheeks as you fell on top of him hugging him as tight as you could.

He coughed wrapping his arms around you “what the fuck were you thinking?” he rasped kissing your shoulder.

Shaking your head against him you sobbed “I…I couldn’t lose you”.

He growled hugging you tighter “don’t you ever do that shit again…don’t ever hurt yourself for me, you understand?”

She shook her head smacking his shoulder gently “stop telling me what to do you ass” a small laugh escaping her choked sob.

He chuckled with a wince “nuff of that sass princess” he let out a pained groan rubbing her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry princess…I…I can’t say it enough…I…” you lifted your face to kiss him softly.

He tasted like blood but you couldn’t care less.

Turning you both on your sides he caressed your face as he frowned lifting your wrist up to his lips, kissing the bandage softly.

“I never meant to hurt you”

Sliding your wrist from his hands you pulled him close “Negan stop, none of this is either of our faults… but you know what?”

He blinked tiredly with a soft smile “what sweetheart?”

You cupped his still pale face kissing him passionately “were hear. We’re ok. And we’re together…we beat her”.

He smiled nuzzling his face against you with a wince “fuck baby we’re in bad shape” you let out a breathy laugh “we’ll be ok…as long as we’re together”.

He chuckled “were together because of you sweetheart…you’re amazing you know that?”

You rubbed your nose against his with a bright smile “I love you Negan”.

His golden eyes widened “you what?”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you before…and after…I just…I can’t bare the thought of never letting you know how much you mean to me”.

Leaning up on his elbow he cupped your cheek as a single bloody tear ran down his face.

Leaning forward he kissed you, his slowly warming lips working over yours in gentle caresses.

Pulling back to breath against your lips he smiled “I love you too princess”.

Threading your fingers through his hair he purred against your neck making you close your eyes with a blissful smile.

“This isn’t some hallucination right?” you whispered against his cheek.

His rumbling laugh filled your chest with happiness.

“No baby…i’m here, I feel way too fucking sore for this not to be real”

Hugging him tightly you cried into his leather shoulder as he rubbed your back “how…how did you come back?”

He shook his head with a wince as he laid back on the bed “I…I don’t fucking know, I’ve never done that shit before. When that fucking bitch made you slit her throat and I uh…” he cleared his throat as his tired eyes drifted to your tear streaked face.

“…I uh kinda connected with one of my walkers I guess when I knew things were getting fucking hairy”. He sighed running his hand down his face to rest on his chest.

“It was so fucking strange…I remember seeing you at the fence but it was like looking through a fucking window or something”.

You couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him kissing the corner of his lips with a soft smile as he continued.

“After you patched me up and dumped all that fucking blood into my system I could feel me being pulled back…killing my walker was the perfect eject button”.

He chuckled “hurt like a bitch though”

You rubbed his chest “Jadis escaped Negan” your voice was laced with venom.

He hummed low in his throat “she fucking trash dolled me”.

You pulled back to look at him curiously “what?”

He clenched his jaw “she was never fucking here sweetheart, she can create these fucking trash voodoo dolls in her likeness”.

You grimaced “I’m going to fucking kill her”.

Negan growled rolling over so you were beneath him “absolutely fucking not…we’re not leaving this fucking place for at least a month or so…I don’t want her knowing you fucking saved me”.

You frowned cupping his face as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“please don’t argue with me”.

He sounded so tired.

You kissed him gently “ok…but I want to talk about this later…she has to die Negan.”

“Fuck yeah she does”

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☆TAG LIST☆

@embracetheapocalypsewithme @negans-network @jdmfanfiction @jdms-network @zoesmama2024 @noodlecupcakes @dixonsbait @ashzombie13 @artemisxeros @i-am-negan-trash @asshatry @dumplingjoker @robertdowneyjr-rdj @kristenallison04 @azanoni @ryangoslingstanktop @jackythemoo @ask-kakashihatake @staceyruby @collette04 @neganslittlebird @jmackie1983 @naughtybellax @a1iah @roguesandsaviors @haleyea @hereforthejeffrey @badsongwinchester @girlyfandomfighter13 @naniky @kalista225 @katgirl05

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pedroscurls · 7 years

Photo

Title: I Trust You

@harleysandbats requested: Hey, I'm so shy about doing this off anon but I have a request. :D Could you write a Negan story where the reader is new to the Sanctuary after being rescued by Simon and a few other Saviors from a dangerous group. She is shy and quiet around everyone at first except Negan, & they quickly develop a close relationship where he looks out for her. When he asks her to be a wife, she tells him that she is scared bc she's never had sex. Fluffy smut pls, & could you use my name? It's Mary. :3 Thanks!!

Character(s): Negan and Mary (original female character) Summary: Negan asks Mary an important question that will change her entire life. Word Count: 5,836 Warning: Fluff, smut!!! Author’s Note: This idea is great, so thank you @harleysandbats for requesting it! I had such a fun time writing it and I love the idea that the OFC is only comfortable around Negan, which is great and completely different! I hope you enjoy this! ;-) I also hope this makes you feel better, dude!!! Fingers crossed that things start looking up for you!

Forever Taglist: @disfigured-it-out || @chunex || @jasoncrouse || @oceanicseries || @dixonsbait || @negan--is--god || @see-you-then-winchester || @sable-the-trans-ham || @k4veggies || @labyrinthofheartagrams || @purplemuse89 || @ladyynegan || @scentofpineandhazelnutlattes || @may85 || @a-girl-interupted || @spn-cw123 || @multireality || @ashzombie13 || @constellationsolo || @isayweallgetdrunk || @fyeahashley88 || @sweetsweetpeach || @heartfulloffandoms || @myheart4ever47 || @asshatry || @laymetorest77 || @jenniegs || @hawtdiggitynegan || @magikat409

(GIF Source: @justnegan)

“I told you not to move, sweet cheeks. You make me do this all the damn time. I hate hurting that beautiful face,” he growled, a closed fist connecting with her jaw. Mary didn’t know how much more she could take. When she joined the Claimers, she was relieved to be surrounded by men who could protect her, but after the first night, she knew it was a mistake to have approached them.

“Please, Joe…”

“All that begging is just simply going to make it even more pleasurable for me, baby. Just let me get it in just once,” he laughed.

She had been with this group for a couple of months and every day was a nightmare. It had gotten worse to the point that not even the walking corpses scared her anymore.

Mary felt dirty, used, worthless, lonely… It was worse being with this group than being alone.

As she struggled against Joe’s large body, blood dripping from her cut lip, she decided to shut her eyes and stop fighting. It wasn’t worth her energy; he was always going to win.

Suddenly, she heard gunshots and immediately flinched at the repeated sounds. When she opened her eyes, she noticed a nearly balding man with a ridiculous pornstache pull Joe off her body.

Mary glanced at Joe, watching as his eyes flashed with fear. The other men held him down, preventing him from running away from his inevitable fate. However, when the pornstache man kneeled to be at eye level with her, she immediately flinched.

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to be afraid anymore…” he whispered quietly.

“Just kill me… I don’t want to live anymore.”

Simon frowned, motioning for Dwight and the rest of the Saviors to tie Joe up and bring him back to the Sanctuary. He knew Negan would love to inflict pain on a man like this.

“You’re safe…” Simon reassured.

Mary just shook her head. Though, she heard a man’s voice from the walkie-talkie, biting her lower lip.

“What the fuck is taking so long, Simon?”

“Excuse me,” the man said.

Huh. So his name is Simon.

“We’ve got a bit of a problem, boss. Came across a small group and well, there’s a man here who forced himself on a young woman. She’s not talking any sense nor is she willing to come back with us.”

The man on the walkie-talkie replied, anger clear in his tone. “Where the fuck are you? Oh, and please tell me that fucker is still alive. I’m on my way.”

Simon told Negan his whereabouts. He turned back to Mary and extended a hand, “You should come back with us. We’ve got a nice place setup, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” she whimpered, looking down at his hand before shaking her head.

“Okay, okay… May I get your name? I’m Simon.”

“M – Mary…”

Simon smiled softly, “That’s a beautiful name. How about we go to the truck? We’ve got a few snacks that we brought for this supply run and I’ll be more than willing to share.”

“What do you want from me?” Mary abruptly asked.

“Mary, not all of us are like that sorry piece of shit. I’m sorry for what happened to you…”

“That’s what they all say at first,” she whimpered, tears clouding her eyes at the memory of the past few months she spent with the Claimers.

Suddenly, she looked up at the sound of a truck approaching. At first, she noticed his boots followed by long legs to the leather jacket and red scarf and finally resting on the barbed-wire baseball bat that was perched on his shoulder.

He looked angry, but when his eyes settled on Mary, it immediately softened. “Simon, put that fucker on his knees. Aim a gun at the back of his head just in case he tries anything.”

Simon nodded, looking at Mary with sincere eyes before standing and following his boss’s order.

Negan walked over to Mary, retrieving a small handkerchief from his pocket. Hesitantly, he looked into her eyes and gently dabbed at the blood on her lip. She flinched, but soon relaxed.

“I’m Negan… Who are you, doll?”

“Mary…”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mary. You want to tell me what happened?”

She shook her head, glancing at Joe who sent a threatening glare in her direction. Immediately, she stood up and ran to the man who haunted her nightmares. Mary instantly used as much force as she could muster to deliver a sharp kick across his face, hearing a loud crunch afterwards.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” she yelled, tears flowing down freely. “You think you can claim me?! You think you own me?!”

Simon looked over at Negan, wondering if they should step in, but Negan simply shook his head. He was allowing her to release the pent-up frustration and months of abuse.

“Mary, I’m sorry… Please, tell these men that I’m sorry,” Joe pleaded.

Mary’s eyes darkened and she stared down at him with empty eyes as she repeated his same words. “All that begging is just simply going to make it even more pleasurable for me, baby.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed and anger began to fill his blue eyes. “Bitch!”

Negan finally stepped in, raising the baseball bat to hover in front of Joe’s face. It was then that the other man ceased his insults, staring up at Negan. “I think you owe this woman an apology.”

“S – Sorry…” Joe muttered.

“Doll?” Negan asked, looking over at her.

Mary looked at the large machete lying on the ground next to Joe. She instantly grabbed it and stared into the man’s eyes, immediately bringing the weapon to penetrate his neck. All life began to drain from his eyes and Mary felt free for once.

“Apology not accepted.”

Negan grinned, chuckling loudly. “Well, fuck! That was amazing to watch!”

Mary looked over at Negan, dropping the large machete and instantly, treaded back to her things. Negan followed her, gently taking her wrist and turning her around.

“Mary, come back with us… We can keep you safe.”

She didn’t know what had gotten into her, but for some reason, Negan made her feel safer than she had ever been since the apocalypse started. “Okay… Yes…”

He grinned, flashing her his dimples. “Great. Let me take you to my humble abode.”

Mary was sitting outside, reminiscing about the first time she met Negan and Simon. She never realized how both men changed her life for the better. Simon had saved her from Joe, but it was Negan who ultimately kept her safe.

Since the moment she met him, there was a sudden attraction she felt towards him. It wasn’t only in the sense of physical attraction, but she also felt immediately safe around him.

“Hey, you.” Negan’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked over at him to see him move to sit next to her.

“Hi,” she replied.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to come out here and think.”

“About what?” he asked.

“Everything really.”

“That’s a bit fucking vague,” he laughed.

Mary noticed how he seemed to display a much more normalized version of himself around her. She was aware of his five wives, but even with them, Negan never acted the way he did with her. She had to wonder if the feeling was mutual, though, she knew it was ridiculous to think Negan felt for her the same way she felt for him. He was much older than she was and he had five women that were much more beautiful.

Plus, he wouldn’t want to be with a woman who never had sex anyway.

“Well, I was just thinking about the first time we met…”

“Thinking about me? Aw, that’s fucking sweet, Mary,” he teased.

Mary blushed, gently hitting his arm. He returned the gesture by holding her close to his side. She was used to this; they were always questionably touchy with one another. Though, she didn’t mind. It made her feel safe whenever she was in Negan’s presence, so it was even better when he touched her as innocently as this.

“I just – I don’t know why I was much more comfortable around you. Simon met me first, saved me actually, but I was still afraid of him at that moment. Then, you showed up and it was weird…”

“Weird? I think you just fucking realized how hot I was,” he winked.

“Negan…” Mary giggled, feeling his hand settle on her opposite hip.

“On a serious note, I don’t know either. I talked to Simon that night when we set you up with a room and all that shit. He and I were wondering the same thing too. You hiding something from your past that may give us an answer?”

“No… I mean, I don’t think so. I’ve never had a serious relationship with any man. I wasn’t really close with my family and I didn’t have any siblings,” Mary shrugged.

“You’ve never had a serious relationship?” Negan asked.

“Of all the things I just said, that is the one that stuck with you?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all. You’re hot as shit, so it’s a bit hard to believe, Mary.”

Mary immediately blushed. She would never get used to his unexpected compliments. “No guy my age wanted someone as shy, quiet, and inexperienced as I am.”

“Inexperienced?” Negan arched a brow.

“Oh, forget it. I better get back to work.” Mary replied, realizing that she let one of her deepest secret out in the open. She rarely hid anything from Negan, but being a virgin was one of them.

“Right… Listen, stop by room tonight. I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you.”

“A talk? We just had a talk.”

“Okay, smartass. Just come by my room.” Negan smiled.

Mary nodded, kissing his cheek and standing. “All right. I’ll see you later.” Kissing his cheek or even displaying any sort of affection was something they were both used to. Their friendship developed after they met and Negan knew he had a soft spot for her. None of his wives compared to the woman that he wanted to be with.

Later that night, Mary was eating dinner at the cafeteria when Simon sat across from her. She smiled in his direction, looking at him with an arched brow. Usually, he was much more eager to talk, but right now, he was just staring at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. How are you?”

“Simon… Spit it out.”

“Damn it. How can you always read me so well?” he asked.

“Because I’ve been around you enough to know you. Now, what’s going on?”

Simon smiled, “Going to see Negan tonight?”

Mary blushed. Simon was aware of how you felt about Negan. It had been revealed to him after a couple of drinks, but he had said he already was aware of the attraction she felt for Negan. It was obvious and many believed that she and Negan were already a couple.

Oh, how she wished that was true.

“I am, why?”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

Simon arched a brow, displaying a serious of expressions on his face that merely made Mary giggle. “What? I’ve been told I have an expressive face.”

“Right…”

“Anyway, are you going to tell him how you feel?”

Mary stiffened, immediately shaking her head. “No! I can’t…”

“And why not?”

“He’s got five wives, Simon.”

“What’s your point, Mary?”

“There’s no way he’s going to want me when he’s got five of the most beautiful women in the world.”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “Most beautiful women in the world? You’re joking right?”

“They are! They wear the pretty dresses and heels. Their hair is always perfectly styled, so is their make-up…” she mumbled, insecurity shown clearly throughout her features.

“They’re beautiful because of all of those things. You, Mary, are beautiful without it, and I’m pretty damn sure you’d look smokin’ with it,” Simon complimented.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“No, honestly. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re just as beautiful as his wives. Negan would be lucky to have you,” he advised.

Mary sighed, nodding. She watched him get up from the table and place his empty tray of food on the counter for the kitchen crew to clean. Mary stood as well. She was going to see Negan tonight and while she wasn’t expecting to admit her feelings for him, she was now questioning if she should.

Mary quickly went to her room. She changed out of her usual t-shirt and jeans and into a dark red dress that she found at the commissary. It was a thinly strapped, sleeveless dress with a deep v-cut and a slit at the side of it to reveal her toned leg.

Mary made her decision. She was going to tell Negan how she felt and show him a side that he had never seen before. She ran her fingers through her hair, allowing it to remain in loose waves. After applying a light amount of make-up and a darkened nude lipstick, Mary slipped into her black heels and made her way to Negan’s bedroom.

Every step she took echoed throughout the empty hallway. She could hear her heart beating out of her chest in anticipation. She never thought she would ever know what it was like to be in love with a man, but Negan changed that. Mary had fallen for him through the development of their friendship.

At his door, Mary quietly knocked. She heard some movement from behind the door before it swung open to reveal Negan in a plain white t-shirt sans the leather jacket and baseball bat. The holster around his hip for his machete had been removed, so he was clad in his usual dark grey pants and boots.

Negan’s eyes widened at the sight of her. They have had nights like this where they would spend with one another, but Mary never decided to dress up in an outfit like this one.

“M – Mary?”

“Are you going to let me in or are you going to just stand there with your mouth open?” she teased.

Negan cleared his throat, opening the door even wider for her to step into his room. Once she was inside, he shut the door and locked it behind him. He turned around and let his eyes rake over every inch of her body. He was surprised to see her physique that had always been hidden beneath her usual t-shirt and jeans.

God, she was even more beautiful dolled up.

“Mary… Why are you dressed like that?” he asked, interrupting the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air.

“Do you not like it?” she frowned, looking down at herself.

Negan noticed her expression, immediately shaking his head. He walked towards her and looked down, his eyes drifting to her cleavage before he cleared his throat. Negan was never a man who was left speechless, but right now, he had no words.

“No, no. I fucking love it. You look amazing…”

Mary slowly smiled, a red blush appearing on her cheeks. “Really?”

“Yes, Mary. You’re fucking beautiful.”

“Thank you, Negan…” Mary replied. It was now or never. She needed to tell him before she decided to back out. “I have something to tell you…”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Mary couldn’t believe that his eyes were trailing her figure. She felt confident to have him staring at her.

“I, uh…”

Negan arched a brow. “What is it, doll?”

“What is it that we have? You and I, I mean… I know we’re friends, but…”

“Mary, what are you fucking getting at?”

“I guess I’ll just say it. I love you, Negan.”

His demeanor changed immediately. Though, she was expecting him to tell her to get out, yell, anything that resembled anger or annoyance, but Mary was surprised to see the softening of his eyes but the underlying fear behind them.

“Mary…”

“I know you don’t feel the same way. I mean, you have five wives who are fucking gorgeous, but I just needed to tell you.”

“None of my fucking wives compare to you and your beauty, Mary,” he stated immediately.

“You don’t have to pity me, Negan. Simon convinced me to tell you and –”

“Hold on a fucking minute. Simon knew how you felt about me?”

“I kind of let it slip after we had a few drinks…”

“You had a few drinks with Simon? Why?”

Mary sighed. Negan always seemed to miss the point of the conversation. “Negan, that’s beside the point… I just had to tell you before I let it slip. I feel much better now that it’s off my chest.”

Negan took a step forward. His hand cupped her cheek gently and she immediately leaned against his touch. “I haven’t been in love since, you know… But the moment I saw you, fuck, I knew there was something different about you.”

Mary bit her lower lip. She had known about his previous life before all of this. He was a teacher and ping-pong coach who was happily married to a woman named Lucille. However, towards the end of their marriage, she had gotten sick and he began to mask his pain by cheating on her. It was sad, but Negan never felt like Mary judged him. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who didn’t have an opinion about everything he did.

Mary always supported him, even if it wasn’t right. Mary had always been the one he went to whenever he couldn’t sleep at night. Mary always reassured his actions were to ensure the safety of this community, even when many people disagreed with him.

Mary was similar to Lucille. She understood that Negan was an eccentric person, but had always accepted him.

“I can’t say that I love you… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fucking love someone again, but you’ve come close to it. Maybe one day, I’ll be ready to admit that the feeling is mutual, but for now, I’ll say that I don’t even want to think about what life would be like without you, Mary.” Negan admitted.

Mary looked into his eyes. That was close enough to him admitting his love for her. She didn’t expect him to say the exact words anyway, but the fact that he trusted her enough to admit something closely similar satisfied her.

“I want you to become a wife,” he finally added.

“A w – wife?”

“My only wife…” Negan said.

“But what about the others? I know how important they are to your reputation, Negan…”

“I don’t fucking care anymore. You’re just as badass. No one will think to fucking mess with you.”

Suddenly, Mary bit her lower lip. While she admitted her love for him, she didn’t yet tell him that she was a virgin. She was afraid to. She was afraid of how he would react.

“I – I can’t…” Mary replied.

“Can’t? After what we both just fucking admitted, you’re going to say no?”

“Negan, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just…”

“You just what?”

“You wouldn’t want me,” Mary shrugged.

“And what makes you think that?”

Mary sighed. She looked down at the floor. There was no way out of this. She had to tell him. “You just won’t.”

“Fucking humor me, Mary.”

“I’m a virgin,” she whispered very quietly.

Negan was stunned. Not only was this woman similar to Lucille, but the fact that she hadn’t been with any other man made it that much more special. He was going to be her first and her last.

“What?” Negan asked, causing Mary to look up at him.

“I’ve never had sex before… I never let Joe or the Claimers touch me. They just –”

Negan shook his head, running his thumb across her lower lip lightly. “We’re not going to talk about them, okay? Right now, it’s just you and me. You don’t need to explain why you saved yourself, Mary.”

She sighed, “I better get going.”

“Virgin or not, I still fucking want you as my wife.”

Mary widened her eyes. “But I’m not experienced…”

“So? Who the fuck cares? You have no idea how hard it’s making me to know that you’re a virgin, Mary. You saved yourself, and you saved yourself for me. Do you have any idea how special that makes me feel?”

“I’m the real life Virgin Mary,” she mumbled.

Negan chuckled, “Not for fucking long, you aren’t.”

“What?”

“If you’ll allow me, I’d like to start our honeymoon tonight.”

“I didn’t say yes,” she teased.

Negan smirked, “Oh, don’t play with me, doll.”

Mary smiled, carefully wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’d love to be your wife, Negan.”

In response, his hands roughly grasped her hips, bringing her flush against his body. Lowering his head, Negan slowly pressed his lips against hers. Mary finally succumbed to him. She was actually kissing him. After months of imagining what it would be like, she was finally doing it.

A hand rested on his chest as the other moved to tangle in his dark locks. Mary followed the movement of his lips, parting her own when she felt his tongue snake out to flick against her. She whimpered, feeling his large hands descend to her backside. Negan gripped it tightly, causing her to gasp against his lips. He took this opportunity to slide his tongue into her opened mouth, growling against her.

With their bodies pressed against one another, Mary felt his hardening bulge resting against her abdomen. She blushed at the thought of what would happen tonight. She was more than ready to give herself all to Negan.

Negan pulled away from the kiss to move his lips along her jawline. She shut her eyes, both hands curling in his dark brown hair as his stubble grazed her many hotspots. Negan placed open mouthed, light kisses along her skin, reveling in her soft, smooth skin underneath his lips.

Suddenly, he pulled away and removed his white t-shirt, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder. He kicked off his boots and sat at the edge of his bed, staring at Mary with lustful eyes. He raised a finger in the air and twirled it slowly, motioning for Mary to spin around for him.

“Give me a twirl, baby. Let me see how good you look in that damn dress,” Negan demanded.

Mary blushed, slowly turning around to give Negan a perfect 360 view of her outfit. His eyes ran over her toned legs, to the slit at her upper thigh, to the deep v-cut that showcased her chest, and finally to the innocent look on her face.

“Come here, Mary,” he said, motioning her forward. Mary followed immediately, standing between his legs. His hands ran up her legs and underneath her dress, grinning when he didn’t feel any panties. “My, oh fucking my, doll… Were you expecting to lose your virginity tonight?”

Her cheeks reddened even further. She looked into his eyes and slowly parted her legs for him. Mary could feel herself become wet as his fingers inched closer and closer to her throbbing heat.

“Maybe…”

Negan grinned, “I have a good damn feeling you’re going to end up becoming a minx. Oddly enough, I am more than fucking okay with it.”

Mary bit her lower lip, gasping when she felt his fingertips graze her unclothed sex. She moved to rest both hands on his shoulders, staring down at him as he slowly circled her clit with his finger.

“Negan…” she moaned, squeezing his shoulders tightly.

“As much as I love this dress on you, it needs to fucking come off.” Negan pulled away from her, standing up and towering over her as usual. His hands grasped the zipper at the back of her dress and slowly lowered it, loosening the fabric around her body.

Slowly, Mary’s hands held the dress to her body before stepping away from Negan. Removing her hands from herself, the red dress pooled around her ankles and she was left standing in nothing but her black heels.

Negan grunted at the sight of her, his long arms scooping her up against him. He slowly lied her on her back on his large mattress, his fingertips grazing down her chest as it brushed against one of her nipples and down her abdomen to her soaking heat. He was standing above her, exuding all confidence and power.

“God damn, Mary…”

Mary parted her legs slowly, allowing Negan to get a better look at her throbbing sex. He immediately kneeled in front of her, pulling her hips to the edge of the bed and closer to his mouth. She felt his breath radiating against her heat, anticipating this unfamiliar pleasure.

Mary immediately let out a quiet moan once she felt his beard scratching lightly against her inner thighs. Her initial reaction was to close her legs, which Negan immediately shook his head and held them apart.

“Stay open like that for me, baby…” Negan smiled, turning his head to place light kisses onto her inner thighs, descending his way closer to your heat teasingly. “Keep ‘em open for me while I eat this sweet pussy.”

Mary blushed, her hands immediately stroking his hair. She should have been used to his dirty talk, but for some reason, it made her even more turned on.

She gasped once she felt his tongue run along the length of her soaking heat. She widened her eyes, propping herself up onto her elbows as she tried to move away. Negan grinned, wrapping his arms around her upper thighs, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer to his face.

“Stop squirming… It’ll feel good, Mary. Trust me.”

“I – I trust you…”

“Good, now don’t interrupt me while I’m eating. It’s fucking rude,” he winked.

Negan ran his tongue repeatedly along her sex, growling at the sweet taste that coated his tongue. He looked up at her, watching as her face contorted into a pleasure that she had never felt before. He removed an arm around her leg to undo the button his pants and unzip his zipper to relieve the pressure that was building.

With his free hand, he spread her lips open, pulling back to look at her pink sex slickened with her own excitement. He grinned to himself, flicking his tongue repeatedly against her clit as he heard her moan loudly.

Negan never thought he would ever hear that sound escape her lips because of him.

“Negan!” Mary moaned, moving a hand to grasp the bedsheets tightly. His tongue felt wonderfully arousing against her and she wanted more. As she rolled her hips against him, Negan chuckled.

He pulled back and looked up at her, “You got a simple taste of this and now you want more? Greedy, greedy girl,” he winked.

“It feels really good…”

“And we’re only getting starting.”

Suddenly, Negan used Mary’s slickness to coat his long middle finger. She watched him intently, whimpering every time he came in contact with her sensitive clit. However, she gasped instantly when she felt the tip of his finger slowly enter her tight heat.

“Negan… Wait, ah…”

Negan rested a hand on her abdomen, keeping her still. “Shh, Mary… Relax for me, okay? I’ve got to get you warmed up before the real thing.”

She nodded, forcing herself to relax despite the unfamiliar penetration. As he continued to push his finger into her, Mary felt her walls slowly begin to loosen to accommodate to the intrusion. He relieved some of the tension by latching his lips onto her clit, causing another moan to escape her lips.

When Negan felt her walls give way to his finger, he quickly began a faster pace. His lips were still teasing her clit while thrusting his finger in and out of her tight heat. He wanted to at least make her come once before thrusting inside of her.

Mary suddenly felt a strange feeling overcome her. With a tight grip on the bedsheets, she leaned up on her elbows and convulsed around Negan’s face and finger. She shut her eyes as a loud moan escaped her lips; she was sure that the wives would hear it.

Negan pulled his slickened finger back, using his tongue to lap at her leaking juices. When he stood back up, he looked down at her and grinned at how spent she already looked.

“Oh, Mary, baby, don’t tell me you’re done…”

“No… I just – That was great.”

Negan smiled, leaning down to peck her lips. “Just you wait…” He pushed his hips against her, causing her to gasp at the hardening bulge that pressed against her.

Negan stepped back, removing his pants and boxers as his member bounced until it remained erect. He grasped the base of his member and ran the tip of his manhood along her soaking heat, allowing it to lubricate his dick.

“Fuck, doll… It’s taking a lot in me to not just push into you…”

Mary whimpered, her eyes deviating to his exposed member. She looked into his eyes and slowly leaned up to peck his lips lightly.

“I trust you…”

Negan genuinely smiled, “The moment you feel like you can’t take anymore, you tell me to stop and I will do it in a heartbeat.”

“I know… Just be gentle.”

Negan nodded, “Always, baby.”

With a few more teasing ministrations, Negan spit into his hand and stroked his member, allowing his spit to lubricate himself even further. Slowly, he found her opened and aligned his tip directly against it. Negan could already feel how tight she was.

“All right, Mary… Brace yourself.”

Mary nodded, her hands grasping the bedsheets tightly. Suddenly, she curled her toes at his large manhood entering her painfully. His member stretched her from the inside, grasping onto his dick in a tight vice almost instantly.

“Negan… Wait…” she whimpered, moving her hands to his abdomen to cease further movement.

Just like Negan promised, he remained still, dropping onto his forearms near her head. He gently stroked her hair away from her face, reassuringly placing kisses along her lips. “You’re doing great,” he said.

Mary smiled, shutting her eyes and nodding for him to continue. As Negan pushed his hips further into her, he felt the barrier that he needed to break.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other moved to grip her hip. “All right, baby… This is going to hurt, but I’ll do it fast, all right?”

Mary nodded, staring up at him. She leaned into his touch and moved a hand to rest against his own, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

With a snap of his hips, Negan thrusted further into her, breaking the barrier and allowing himself to remain still. Her walls tightened around his manhood, causing him to groan at his own pleasure.

Mary shut her eyes tightly, her nails digging into his hand as she moaned loudly. She spread her legs even further as if it would relieve the pressure she felt. However, Negan slowly began to pull out only to push back in. It caused her walls to get used to his manhood, loosening enough to relinquish the pain.

“You okay?” he asked, kissing her forehead as his hips slowly moved against her.

Mary nodded, unable to speak as she whimpered with each thrust. She looked into his eyes, feeling every inch of his throbbing member within her depths. As her walls began to loosen and give way to his manhood, Mary bit her lower lip and urged him to move faster. “Faster, Negan… Please…”

Negan grinned, nodding. “Your wish is my fucking command, princess…”

Suddenly, he began to slam into her repeatedly. Her hips slapped against her own in a rapid pace, their skin hitting one another echoing off the walls. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to last longer than he was used to, but now that he had her, it was his duty to make sure she was just as experienced as he was.

Mary moaned loudly, his name escaping her lips as the pain finally subsided and it was replaced with pleasure. With each thrust, she moaned, keeping her legs open for him to move easily within her. Negan dropped down to rest his forehead against her neck, rolling his hips sensually. He wrapping his arms around her, his hands resting on her backside as he pulled her against him with each thrust, allowing him to delve deeper into her tight abyss.

“Fuck, Mary…” he groaned against her, his fingertips digging into her skin at her backside.

She arched her back, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders as their body glided against one another. Sweat built at her temple and she knew that the same unfamiliar feeling she felt earlier was rapidly approaching.

“Negan… Yes!” she moaned, urging him to continue his thrusts. When he slammed his hips into her, she felt the slightest of contact against the hair that trailed at his lower abdomen and downwards. She moved a hand to his backside, keeping him against her as she rolled her hips upwards.

With him fully inside of her, Mary was able to create friction against her clit. After a few more movements of her hips, her walls immediately tightened and her body convulsed around his member once more. Her eyes were shut tightly and his name escaped her lips in a loud moan.

Negan was taken by surprise at the sudden climax. She was tight, tighter than he had ever felt before. So, he began to pick up his pace, pushing in and out of her tight depths to help stroke himself into his own release.

“Oh fuck, Mary…” he moaned, delivering a couple of sharp thrusts before he pulled out abruptly and released onto her lower abdomen. He was breathing heavily and Mary reached up to cup his cheek, leaning up to peck his lips lightly.

She looked down and noticed the stain of blood, panicking slightly.

Negan shook his head, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll have our sheets cleaned.”

Mary nodded, groaning when she moved to stand up.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” he grinned.

Once Mary stood on her feet, she grasped the edge of the bed as a soreness settled along her lower half and her legs remained wobbly. Negan took her by surprise and hoisted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style to his connected bathroom. He set her down to run a warm bath and looked over at her as he allowed the water to fill halfway.

Negan cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes, “Was that okay for your first time?”

Mary grinned broadly, “When can we do it again?”

“Damn, woman. You know you’re going to be sore as shit –”

“It’s our honeymoon, right?” Mary smiled.

Negan chuckled, kissing her forehead lightly. “It sure fucking is…”

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