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#this is a raine and their shit eating grin appreciation post
littlemissmanga · 5 months
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Tell Me
A while back I wrote this post about how Echo teases in bed. I was revisiting that thot and then, instead of working on one of my 17 WIPs, this happened.
I regret nothing.
Pairing: Echo x F!Reader
Warning: Spicy, very spicy: Dirty talk, slight dom/sub if you squint, praise kink, teasing, fingering, p in v.
W/C: 1,147
Divider by rain-on-kamino
Minors DNI, 18+ only
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You're cradled in the crook of Echo's arm, your hands trailing back and forth against his torso as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear, all the things he imagined doing to you.
The anticipation is electric, holding your body taut as Echo moves his hand over your skin, hovering just high enough to not touch you. A whine escapes you as your desperation overwhelms you.
Echo tuts before pressing a kiss to your temple. "You know better, gorgeous. Use your words if you want something."
You whine again, breathing out a barely audible "Touch." Stars, you sound so pathetic. But you are. You need Echo to touch you, to make good on every promise he made earlier.
"Touch? You want to touch me?"
You shake your head harshly, a correction on the tip of your tongue. But the words die there as Echo's palm brushes so close as it passes your nipple you swear your feel a phantom pressure. You keen, arching up in hope to feel the warmth from his hand on your stiffened peak, straining to close the last of that gap ... only to have Echo move away, his chest trembling with laughter at your clear disappointment.
"I need an answer, cyare."
Holding Echo's expectant gaze, you take a deep, steadying breath, calming yourself down enough to ask the way you knew he wanted. "I need you to touch me. Please, Echo."
While Echo's smile always gave you butterflies, the dark glint in his eyes makes your stomach drop.
"Good girl."
The praise rakes through you, almost as satisfying as this hand finally taking hold of your breast, his thumb running over your nipple.
"Is this what you need?" he asks, his calloused fingertips scraping over the soft surface deliciously before he squeezes, the flesh spilling between his fingers.
"More," you moan, pushing yourself into his touch.
"More?" Echo chuckles deep in his throat as he presses his lips to yours. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you?
You kissed him back greedily, wanting to drink in every ounce of him. But a quick nip to your bottom lip pulled your attention back to his question.
"Yes. Need you. Need your fingers."
Heat courses through you at Echo's responding growl. His hand leaves your breast to nudge your knees apart, trailing up your thigh before teasing your slit.
"So wet," he groans in appreciation, slipping two fingers into you with ease. You gasp as he fills you, rolling your hips to push them deeper. The motion catches Echo's attention, his eyes glued to where his fingers disappear inside you. "That's my good girl, take what you need."
Your cunt clenches around him, and a shit eating grin breaks out on Echo's face.
"Oh? What was that for?" he asks, slowing his pace, much to your dismay.
You try to roll your hips faster to keep that sweet friction where you need it most, but he is one step ahead, curling over you to use his weight to hold you still. You whine and writhe against him, letting your frustration be known.
"Tell me and I'll give you what you want." Echo bargains. You curl into him, burying your heated face in the crook of his shoulder, but Echo won't let you hide. With a 'tisk,' he removes his fingers from your heat, the sensation tearing a cry from your throat as his hand slips between you to press against your chest, forcing you to lay back. His pupils are blown as his eyes hold yours.
"Was it 'good girl?'" he asks, spreading your slick from your sternum to your chin as he brings his hand up to grasp it. "Or did you like me telling you to take what you need?"
You know Echo loves this part, watching how you lose all control with just the right words. And he's always in awe of how filthy those same words sound coming back in your voice. But he was just at adept at weaponizing silence. And right now, as he let his stare weigh heavy in expectation, that silence was a blaster to your back, compelling you to fight past your lust-fueled daze to answer him.
"'My,'" you croaked. "You said 'my good girl. I ... I like being yours."
For a moment, you wondered if he heard you. Echo doesn't move, doesn't react, doesn't breathe long enough for you to get a little nervous.
"Echo?"
Your quiet whisper is met with fierce passion as Echo crashes his lips to yours, sucking your bottom lip harshly as he slides his arm from where it supported you so he could roll to over over you.
His hips spread your legs wider as he grinds his hard cock into your wetness. You keen into him and press closer.
"You like being mine?" he growls as the head of his cock catches your clit.
You hiss out a "Yessss," knowing he won't continue if you don't respond.
Echo pulls his hips back and lines himself at your entrance.
"Mine. My girl." Slowly, he pushes inside you, your walls stretching gently around his hardness. "My gorgeous girl takes me so well."
His hand presses down on your pelvis, his thumb circling your clit. "Isn't that right? Tell me."
"Yes!" you shout, back arching at the overwhelming sensation of being stretched so deliciously as lightening zaps through you with every swipe of his thumb. "Made for you. Made to take you."
Echo begins thrusting in earnest, matching pace with his ministrations on your clit.
You feel that familiar hot coil tightening deep in your core. It's intoxicating and you need more. Need to reach that peak and let it snap.
Reaching up, you run your nails over Echo's back, pulling him forward so he leaned against his scomp, his weight settling more firmly on you. The new angle pushed him deeper into you and you feel your cunt flutter around him.
"Made to make you feel good," you moan into his ear, smiling when he shudders against you. "Need to make you feel good, too."
"Fuck!" His hand grabs your hip, holding you tight and steady as he takes you at a pace that leaves you breathless. "Come for me then, cyare."
The drag of his cock twists that coil almost painfully tight inside you. You crave the release, the fall that only Echo could give you and with a few more thrusts, you shatter. You can feel your muscles tense, but all you can focus on is the starlight ricocheting through you.
Distantly, you register feeling Echo's hip's stutter before the warmth of his release coats you. Unable to open your eyes or catch your breath just yet, you curl into him as he settles at your side.
Echo's arm drapes over you, holding you to him as his lips brush your hairline.
"That's my good girl."
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Taglist: @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @mythical-illustrator @dhawerdaverd @dreamie411
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westerosoliviapope · 3 months
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Theon Greyjoy - A Day in the Life
I loved this Theon segment so much, I want to give it room to breathe outside the other shenanigans in my latest update.
From Warrior in a Suit (Scandal Westeros - Finale) on A03
"That's the one."
Gods, Theon thinks. Don't let it be the expensive one. He flips the view on his phone so Sansa can inspect the selection of rings on the tray.
"Far right. 1.5 carat, round cut, white gold," she says. "It looks just like the one on her Pinterest board."
Of course.
He nods to Sabitha, the smiling saleswoman behind the counter. A mere six months ago, those tits peeking through her scandalously-buttoned white shirt would have compelled him to give her something more fleeting than the healthy commission she's about to collect.
He's in love, not blind—but neither Sabitha's turnips nor the significant dent in his credit card can cool the warmth in his chest imagining Jeyne's face when she sees this ring.
Theon Greyjoy. Betrothed. He's tempted to pinch himself.
You learn a thing or two watching your best mate spin out from a broken heart. Namely, you don't want to be the bloke who lets the girl—the One—get away.
Day two of their trip to wine country, having dinner on a balcony at Redwyne Family Vineyards as the sun set over rows of red grapes as far as the eye could see, when the light caught whatever Jeyne put on her face that evening to make her cheeks shimmer and all of a sudden he couldn't breathe, Theon knew.
He was done for. Over. So long to the Sabithas of the world.
Maestro, you can cue the wedding march…
The Riverlands' rains don't bother him —a walk in the park compared to the icy storms he grew up with. As far as he's concerned, it's 70 degrees and sunny as he whips his Tesla through the Capitol nodding to the sounds of Jaero Hovys. He became a fan while stationed in Tyrosh, sharing a base with Braavosi soldiers who couldn't get enough of Jae's layered, braggadocious rhymes. When you spent your days trying not to get your cock blown off by landmines, you took confidence where you could get it. For Theon, that meant chanting lines like "I will not lose" and "allow me to re-introduce myself" while waiting in the fields, rifle at the ready.
He generally prefers the earlier stuff to the recent releases with his wife, Bellegere Otherys. Since taking Jeyne to see the pair in concert, however, he appreciates the newer tracks. He doesn't even skip when "Boss" thumps out of his custom speakers.
"Everybody's bosses/ till it's time to pay for the office—"
Fucking hell. How does the phone always know to ring right before the best part of the song? His frustration is quickly replaced with a shit-eating grin when he sees the name flashing across his dashboard.
"Ms. Poole," he answers. He swears he can feel the ring burning a hole in his pocket, even though it's locked in his safe at home. She has no idea… he thinks. Or does she? Bloody hell, if Sansa spoiled the surprise—
"Are you seeing this thing with Arya and your uncle?"
He tries—actively—not to see anything about anyone in his family, except maybe Asha. But keeping the Greyjoy name out of his feeds is difficult of late. What with Euron emerging from bumfuck Asshai and casting himself as Westeros' new main character. Running around with Cersei Lannister. Going viral for shitposting celebrities and the government. Now, apparently he's arguing with Arya on Twitter.
Once he's at his desk, Theon goes through the tweets. All 319 of them. Arya listed the 318 victims of the 2002 Bear Island Attack, a name per tweet, and ended the thread with:
"The media wants you to forget, so they can use the theatrics of a suspected terrorist to boost their ratings. Please think of your Northern neighbors before you platform/share/boost Euron Greyjoy. Time changes many things—it doesn't bring back the loved ones we lost at Bear Island. #TheNorthRemembers."
587k retweets
In reply, Euron posted a photo from Robb's campaign with Theon featured prominently among the Stark siblings.
"Seems you aren't triggered by all Greyjoys. Just the ones who don't kiss your 'honorable' arses. Westerosi elites use every trick in the book to censor me because I tell the truth. Don't let the sob stories fool you.
869k retweets
How long before his phone starts buzzing with requests for comment? Theon gives it two, three hours tops.
When he left Pyke to join the armed services at 18, he thought his days of explaining his family ties were over. He enlisted as Theon Harlaw with no plans to return to the western shores of the Narrow Sea. Once the Three Daughters' conflict settled, he'd find a local Tyroshi girl—a buxom waitress, bartender, or the like—and have a stable full of blue-haired sons who'd never hear their family name associated with words like "extremist," or "cult."
He was in Tyrosh a year when a new crop of cadets came over from the Military Academy at Storm's End, and the name "STARK" appeared over one of the bunks in his unit.
When the Bear Island Courthouse fell, he and Asha were already emancipated, having won their freedom with the assistance of their Uncle Rodrik. The national media knew of Balon Greyjoy, the Iron Islands governor who didn't publicly support the Church of the Drowned God, but—conveniently—never brought the full force of the law down on its extremist sect. They knew the masterminds behind the attack, and applied the term to Aeron and Victarion without irony. And they knew of the enigmatic Greyjoy brother whose "business" took him to Qarth—known drug and money laundering capital of the world—a month before the attack.
They knew little of the wife who divorced Balon ten years prior on grounds of spousal abuse. Or the pair of teenage orphans left to fend for themselves when she died.
His mother's surname let him and Robb coexist peacefully when he first arrived. As the legend of the Young Wolf spread, Theon stayed cordial, but distant. They worked together when duty called. Otherwise, Theon spent his leisure time with the Braavosi unit. With their music, brashness, and penchant for good liquor, they were more his speed than the boy scouts from the Military Academy.
Leave it to Balon to blow it to shit.
News of his father's stroke came via letter. Addressed to "Theon Greyjoy." Like it was bloody designed for shouting in the unit for everyone to hear.
Theon learned three things that day.
One: He wouldn't receive a penny of his trust fund without the Greyjoy name.
Two: Robb has literal bricks for hands.
Three: A fist fight can be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Moments like tonight—watching his name turn into a trending topic because he didn't just have "a" crazy uncle, but came from a family of hucksters who amassed power by deluding an impoverished region with the fantasy of subjugating women, never paying taxes, and attacking merchant ships in the Sunset Sea like a band of old time pirates—makes him wonder if being a Greyjoy is worth the money.
Hovys said it best. Take the good with the bad or throw the baby out with that bath water. Theon Harlaw couldn't drop $21k on an engagement ring.
Fuck waiting out the storm. He may as well steer into it. Smother this baby in the crib before it hits Robb's radar and turns into a real shit show. It's the last thing they need after that Westerling business.
And yes. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of his mind, Theon liked the idea of eye candy in the office when that bloke from the Lorathi embassy gave him her resume. How was he supposed to know Robb would lose his godsdamned head?
Before Jeyne—his Jeyne—not Slutty Fanfic Jeyne…
Well. Okay. Theon would've done the same. Or at least tried. But he didn't unzip Robb's pants and stick his cock in the girl. So, not his fault.
"WNTH. How may I help you?"
"Theon Greyjoy for Wylla Manderly."
Hound that she is, Wylla barely lets the phone ring. Gods save anyone standing between her and an exclusive. "Your uncle has half the republic calling you 'Theon Sheepboy.' Care to comment?"
Sheepboy? Oh. Wolves. Sheep. "Charming," Theon retorts, tapping his pen on his desk.
Time to earn his keep as comms director.
"I'd like to say, on the record, that I have been honored by the gracious warmth and welcome I've found within the Stark family, and stand ardently with them in support of the families and victims of the Bear Island Attack. Euron Greyjoy is a photo on a mantle in a house I barely remember. And I'd like to keep it that way."
"Got it."
"One more thing, Wylla…"
"Aye?"
"The headline is me and my uncle. The family's been through enough without Euron goading them into a brawl." Better Euron's army of bots calling him "sheepboy" than whatever vile shit they'll say to Arya.
"Careful, Greyjoy. People might start thinking you're galant."
"Me?" Theon smiles. "Never."
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babbushka · 3 years
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Take this request however you’d like! A Flip’s titty appreciation post? Just about how he enjoys them. Whether it be sleeping on them, enjoying just looking at them when the Mrs is around, touching on them just randomly while you’re together. A little somethin’ somethin’ along those lines? 🤠
A/N: Lol when I first read this prompt I thought you meant you wanted some appreciation of Flip's tits!! I was like oh yeah, someone's gotta put a bra on that man lol! But then I read it again and realized that's not what you meant lol. I hope you enjoy this short fluffy something!
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1k, warnings: mentions of pregnancy, and Flip being handsy and obsessed with tits but it's not smut really lol
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“God, today -- fucking -- !” Flip slams the door a little more aggressively than he intends to, taking in a deep breath to really emphasize, “Sucked!”
What a nightmare work had been, Flip thinks with a deep scowl, as he steps out of his shoes and jacket, leaving them in a disheveled heap on the floor, before going back and righting it because he knows you’d be pissed if he left it like that.
“Is that my honey I hear?” Speaking of you, Flip is a little bummed that you’re not right at the door to greet him like you are most days, because he sure as shit could use a kiss or a dozen right about now.
“Ugh.” Is all he manages to get out, before going on a hunt around the house for you, incorrectly heading into the kitchen first, hoping that dinner might be ready for him. It is, but you’re not there, and you’re more important, despite his growling stomach.
He hears you laughing a little at his theatrics, following the sound of your voice into the living room, where you say those four magic words that make all his bad days turn into good ones, “Aw cheer up, here, wanna see my tits?”
Like magic, his mood is improved, and he makes his way over to the sunken living room where you’ve got reruns of the Dick Van Dyke show to keep you company as you iron. He leans against the arch that separates the dining and living rooms, and watches as you put the iron up on its little stand, away from one of his dress shirts that you’d been working on.
You make a little show of it, unbuttoning the blouse you’re wearing one button at a time, your shoulders giving a little shimmy that makes your tits bounce as you let it drop into the to-iron pile, unclasping your bra tantalizingly slow. Flip can’t help but chew on his lip, the anticipation of seeing your perfect tits nearly killing him.
The torture only lasts a few more moments though, before you let the bra drop altogether, and Flip takes three big strides across the living room to get his hands on you, the way they’ve been itching to all day while he was stuck undercover with these fucking guys on this new fucking case.
“God ketsl,” He breathes out a low whistle, getting his palms full of your flesh and kneading your tits, “You’re a stunner.”
“I know.” You give him a cheeky grin, but Flip shakes his head, leaving down to kiss you all over your face -- your cheeks, your neck, your throat, making his way down in an awkward sort of bend, an attempt to get your nipples in his mouth. You laugh a little and swat at his shoulder, and he straightens up out of fear of accidentally bumping into the iron.
“No no, I mean really. How the fuck did a guy like me ever get you?” Flip backs you away from the ironing board a little, pushes you against the back of the couch, never once taking his hands off your chest.
“You don’t look half bad either.” One of your hands begins combing through Flip’s hair, short soothing scratches against his skull as you tease, “In fact, in the right lighting, you’re kinda handsome.”
That gets a chuckle out of your husband, and you’re pleased, glad that whatever had been bothering him at work was no match for the power of your presence.
“What are you doing?” Flip’s eyes are starry when he looks at you, rubs his nose against yours.
“Putting together a model airplane, what does it look like I’m doing?” You roll your eyes, leaning up to press your lips to his, always forgetting how much you miss him until he finally comes home from his stressful and dangerous job.
“Honey you can’t expect me to look anywhere other than right...” Flip grabs your tits in his palms again, getting a better grip on them to push them together and smack smooches to the tops of them that his fingers can’t quite cover, “...Here.”
“Alright hold on cowboy,” You laugh, pushing him away for a moment to much protesting, instead leading him over to the couch properly, nudging for him to, “Lay down.”
“No, you first.” Flip arranges and rearranges the cushions so that your back is supported, and the small act of care has your playful mood softening into something a tiny bit more tender.
Feeling stupid that you’re just in bottoms, you take them off, laying down on the couch in your underwear. Flip doesn’t bother taking his clothes off too, but that’s alright with you, he’s wearing his soft shirt and those worn jeans of his, nothing’s going to be abrasive against your skin.
“Careful, they’re a little tender right now.” You encourage him to lay down on top of you, mindful of the small baby bump. Your tits have gotten bigger from the pregnancy, and even though Flip was always a little too into them before he knocked you up, he’s all too excited to get his face snuggled against them now.
“They’re perfect.” He sighs out, trying to find a good spot to get one of his hands cupping your left, his face resting on your right.
“Are you comfortable?” You joke, knowing that he could live right there if you’d let him.
“Mmmmmhm.” Nuzzling his nose against your nipple, he kisses all over the spots that he can reach with his mouth, his body tucked up against you. The hand on your left breast gives gentle squeezes, and you smile fondly down at him, kissing his temple, before carding your fingers through his hair once again.
“You know, I’m not so sure you don’t have a complex.” You tease, and unexpected laughter shakes through your husband’s frame.
It’s not that he’s always been a tits guy, Flip doesn’t think. It’s always just been you, your body drives him crazy. The stash of wet white t-shirt polaroids he has of you in his desk could probably get him fired if anyone ever went snooping, there’s just something about the feeling of your nipple hardening against his tongue that makes his life so much better.
“You’re probably right but I don’t want to be confronted with that right now.” He grumbles, and you grin, knowing that whatever is going on in that brain of his, you’re encouraging, because how could you ever say no to your lumberjack of a man when what he wants is so easy to provide?
“Fair enough.” You muse, twirling some of his shaggy hair around your finger, “Will you help me with the ironing? It’ll go by faster if you put the shit on the hangers.”
“You bet your ass I will ketsl...in a minute.” Flip wedges his face into your cleavage, pushing your tits together once again to smother himself between them, “I just want to lay here for a minute.”
Rolling your eyes fondly, you reach down to the extension cord where the iron is plugged in, and press the power switch. At some point, he’ll have to get off of you so the two of you can eat dinner, at which point you can turn it back on, but you know that as the rain picks up outside, Flip is not going to be getting up anytime soon.
That’s alright with you, you think, happy to hug him and watch tv together on the couch for a while, and maybe, if he gets worked up enough, have a little sex. You can’t blame him of course, you think with a big smile, you are, after all, a stunner.
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Tagging some Flip loving friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea @princessflip
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the-tiniest-one · 3 years
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Parenting Rock Lee with Might Guy :)
Note:@xemaliahrssx here ya go! I hope it tastes just like you dreamed it would!
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Sitting at the kitchen table, watching Guy and Lee devour the dinner you made, had you feeling nostalgic... You watched with your head rested on your hand. It was the little family moments that you appreciated more than anything else these days. "Yeah! and then I caught him in a cross block!" Lee said, describing their latest mission, his mouth full of food.
"Haha yes yes (y/n) you should have been there, our Rock Lee is becoming a real force to be reckoned with, much like his handsome sensei" Guy said with a wink in your direction.
"Handsome indeed" you said with a grin.
Thinking back to the days when you were a little more of a workaholic made you laugh. If you told your younger-self all those years ago that you would be Konoha's worst helicopter parent in just a few years, you'd have never believed it. Guy was a perfect match for you in that regard. You two were a well oiled machine when it came to parenting.
While Lee could do no wrong in your eyes, Guy was a bit heavy handed in his discipline of Lee's skills as a shinobi. You kissed every bruise and scrape, while Guy was teaching him how to prevent them in the first place.
Rock Lee has had more than his fair share of the short-end-of-the- shit-stick his entire life. BUT One could be forgiven for not recognizing the true level of hardship the boy has overcome in his short tenure as a shinobi. Lee is a true underdog.
Lucky for him, you've always been a bit of a sucker for an underdog.
You thought back to those early days......
Even before Lee evolved to a mini version of your childhood crush, you felt the need to protect him. Watching him fumble and practice jutsu in vain day after day.....early in the morning and into the night. You would watch him from a distance while training your own team. One early morning, you decided to check in on the boy with long black hair. He kicked at a post, counting off as you looked on...10....11.....12.....his kicks were weak even for his young age. As he got closer to 50 he fell back, overwhelmed by the pain of repetitively beating his shins into the wood without chakra to safeguard his bones.
Clearly angry at his situation, the thought occurred to you that maybe he wasn't using chakra because he couldn't....the boy had tears streaming from his eyes. It broke your heart to watch a kid who couldn't be more than 10, cursing his life.
"A kid working that hard shouldn't have to feel that defeated..." you said to yourself.
You felt conflicted. Torn between wanting to step in and takeover his training...but feeling the weight of responsibility that would come with encouraging a child to chase a pipedream that would only lead to disappointment. You knew all too well what happens to weak ninja. The reality was that it would be cruel to encourage the boy to peruse a life as dangerous as that of a shinobi. You were no slouch when it came to taijutsu but ninjas are able to compete with one another because of the advantages that come with developing kakai genki.
Could a boy with no use of chakra stand a chance against the generations of those families of ninja who use fearsome jutsu and tactics like lightning...wind....wood or even hereditary gifts like the dreaded sharingan or byakugen? The real answer was sad and harsh. No. He couldn't.
You wouldn't be so irresponsible as to tell the boy he could be anything but a failure.
If he perused that path, he would die young.
So you stood back, restraining the desire to comfort and nurture the little boy out of what you told yourself was mercy. Day after day, week after week....you watched on....until it became too much. You couldn't sleep anymore, couldn't function on missions the same way. Always thinking back to him still out at those training grounds.....always struggling.
....
One morning it was pouring rain. You called off training that day for your team and headed out to the place you knew he would be. He was there of course. He was doing his best to catch a cold while practicing hand signs to no avail. After watching him for a few minutes you finally asked, "What's your name kid?" speaking loud to project over the rain. Startled he looked up to where you stood, perched on a post a few feat away. "I...Im Rock Lee" he said timidly. You laughed at his shy but sweet face, "Im y/n" you said.
"Your kicks look like they could use some work", holding your palm about chest high, to show him where his blow should be landing. The boy grimaced...clearly angry with his lack of direction in training. You laughed and the both of you worked on his kicks for the duration of the morning.
"I think you'll be a splendid ninja someday" you said as you offered him a bit of lunch you packed. The boy looked up at you with the most heartbreaking fear in his eyes, "I can't use chakra" Lee said barley above a whisper, clearly ashamed to tell you the truth.
You ruffled his hair. "Look kid, life is shitty sometimes. But I can tell you are someone who will never quit. No matter the odds, and that is something worth more than all the talent in the world." He instantly smiled up at you, melting your heart for what would be the first of a million times. Laughing and showing you also first time you saw that shiny smile that you would come to love more that anything on earth.
From then on he was your responsibility. Your chest burned with pride in his concrete determination. Feeling instantly the protective burn and feral instinct to insulate him from anything that would hurt him.
....
It was about a year later when things evolved. You and Lee had become close. He, being an orphan as you found out he was, had taken your invitation to live in your spare bedroom. It wasn't long before you were nagging him to be sure and eat breakfast before class, take baths every night. You were often hearing your mothers voice echo in your own as you guided the child to a structure he lacked.
You even went to his parent meetings at the Academy, much to the surprise of Iruka (because he himself was 2 years older than you and had known you since you were smol) laughed when you asked to see Lee's reports.
----
Then one hot summer day you got the order... your team was dispatched on your first extended mission with your new genin. 3 months on a C rank mission to Suna. Your heart sank as you remembered Lee's graduation exam was in just a few days. Before you left, you kissed his forehead and promised a tearful Lee who had become just as attached as you over the last year, that would bring him back a graduation present.
You just knew he would finally pass.
....
Returning to the village near midnight you couldn't wait to see Lee. After giving report to Lord Third, you quickly made your way home. Quietly cracking the door to his bedroom, you peaked in to see his sweet little face. The snoring boy looked peaceful.
"He cut his hair?" you thought puzzled..."he must have done it himself, it looks a little odd." You laughed at the thought of him using a bowl to cut his hair.
Then your eyes traveled to the headband still around his forehead, "He passed!!!" you quietly celebrated, careful not to wake him up. You placed the promised gift on his dresser, a brand-new set of num-chuks you'd had made in Suna.
The next morning you were up before sunrise making a celebratory breakfast when an extreme round of knocking came from the apartment's front door.
You quickly answered, immediately flustered when on the other side was none other than Might Guy....the same Guy you'd had the hots for over a decade.
"Y/N!, I must have the wrong address! I was looking for one of my students!" Guy said in his familiar boisterous cadence. Laughing nervously you started to respond, when behind you Lee pushed his way through the doorframe. Your eyes widened at the sight.
The haircut made sense now, Lee stood side by side with his sensei. He was wearing Guy's jumpsuit... they could have been father and son.
Looking at the two of them standing side by side in front of you for the first time gave you the most jarring sense of dejavu.
"Guy sensei! Look what Y/N brought me from her most dangerous mission!" Lee brandished the weapon, beaming up at his teacher who laughed and winked in your direction. "Ah, a great choice! Only the most skilled ninja know how to use such a fine weapon! We must enlighten you at once Lee my boy!" With that the handsome jonin and your sweet Rock Lee were off to train.
You had known Guy since he was still struggling to gain entrance to the Academy, you knew that the man who radiated confidence today, only earned that ability through blood, sweat, and tears.
You apprehensively accepted that Might Guy was a good match to be Lee's sensei.
"Be careful!" you called, more than a little apprehensive at the thought of your sweet baby boy training with such an admittedly impulsive man. Feeling a small tug of sadness as you watched the two of them disappear down the street.
"Lee's getting tall..." you though as you closed the door.
....
Over the next few years Lee had grown into a strong young man. You felt such extreme pride in everything he did. Even though you being in your mid-twenties were not nearly old enough to be Lee's mother, he had taken to occasionally calling you mom.
Lee was never embarrassed of you as he grew into a teen like some of the other kids his age. He was always just as willing to give you a hug before a mission as the day you met him.
It would be a lie to say that the relationship you and Guy shared hadn't also matured along the way. Although you weren't Lee's biological parents, anyone would be forgiven for thinking that you were. Everything you had admired about Guy, his hot-bloodedness, his devotion to youthful perseverance, his love of his village had been passed down to your surrogate son.
It was only natural that you and Guy would become a team in raising Rock Lee. Over time after a few years of dinners, training sessions, birthdays, holidays etc...Guy decided to propose to you.
It was a literal dream come true. You couldn't say yes fast enough. But as required when two shinobi become married, when you went to sign the paperwork to make your marriage official, requesting a stamp of approval from Lady Tsunade....she extended to you a folder with a second set of forms.
Guy beamed as you read the contents. Adoption papers with Lee's name printed at the top in bold.
"He will always be our son. Since we are making it official... why not add one more?" Guy said with a laugh. The tears began welling in your eyes. "He's 17" you laughed, "I love you" is all you could think to say in response to the most kind gesture you have ever witnessed.
Guy held his trademark thumbs up high as he replied, "Lee will always need his mom, no matter how big he gets!" His words like music to your heart...
You'd never felt so complete as you walked hand in hand with Guy, on your way home to surprise your sweet son with the news.
Upon telling Lee what the two of you had done, he looked from the papers back to you. Confusion spread across the sweet ravenette's features. "But I do not understand" Lee said with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Have you not always been my mom?"
The innocent look in his eye and profound sincerity in his voice made tears well in your eyes for what felt like the tenth time that day. You laughed and swept he and Guy into a hug that didn't last long enough. "What's for dinner?" the two men asked in unison and in that moment you knew you were the luckiest person in the world.
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quindolyn · 3 years
Text
Midnight Walks Part 2 || James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x Reader
Word Count: 3020
Note: I finally finished part 2, this is horrible, just completely plotless and a lot of fluff but it was stuck in my head and I wanted to get it out before I started working on something else (what will that be? You know what that’s an excellent question). It’s a bit shorter than part 1 but also much longer than necessary. I hope you all enjoy it or at least don’t hate it, constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated.
Warnings: Nonsexual nudity, hair washing, fluff, comma abuse, the Addams Family (I watched it all the time with my dad when I was like 7), lots of fluff, barely proof read and done so at 11:36 pm my time so
Masterlist
Part 1
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What you and James hadn’t counted on was for it to start pouring down on you as the two of you laid, splayed out along the playground structure, metal of the bars cutting into your backs. After the kiss in the rain James insisted on having the two of you had stumbled home, wrapped up in each other’s arms, smearing sloppy kisses on any exposed skin you could get your lips on. It probably took you guys a solid 20 minutes longer than it should’ve to get home, you must’ve looked ridiculous meandering down the residential street trying to swallow each other’s tongues, drenched in rain. Eventually you made it home, managing to fall through the front door without breaking anything in the house, yourselves included though there were admittedly a few close calls. “You want a bath doll?” James asked you, cupping your face in his rough, calloused hands, fingertips dripping with rain brushing small, soft circles on your cheekbones. Lifting one of his hands off your face you cradled it in both of yours, tracing a healing callus that sort of looked like a flower, with some very wonky petals, but a flower nonetheless, “Yeah, that sounds good. You’ll take it with me?” Pressing a kiss to your nose he spoke, “Of course, not gonna run a bath for my pretty girl and not take it with her. M’Not an idiot my love.” “Guess not,” You shrugged, a smirk playing at your lips, earning you a playful push against your shoulder. Lifting you into his arms bridal style he carried down the hall to your room where we placed you down on your bed, still being clad in his varsity jacket, you pulled it tightly around yourself to conserve any heat you may’ve had while trying not to shiver from the water that still soaked you. You could feel the comforter beneath you getting wet. “Damn you’re pretty in my clothes baby doll.” He simpered pulling your arms parallel to the floor so he could see how much longer the sleeves of the jacket were than your arms. “They just swallow you whole,” He commented, really more to himself than to you. “Be right back m’love.” He promised before he traipsed out of the room and across the hall to where your bathroom was. You leaned back on your bed as you listened as the water started running when James turned the faucet on, the thrumming sound quickly lulling you to sleep. You awoke in Jamie’s arms but 15 or so minutes later as he carried you into the bathroom once the giant claw foot tub had finally filled to his satisfaction. You smiled dreamily as the sweet scent of your favorite bubble bath flooded your nostrils, you blinked your bleary eyes to see the breathtakingly handsome face of your boyfriend. “Bath ready?” You mewled, your voice weaker than you would’ve thought after such an inconsequential amount of sleep. “Yeah, nice and hot (Y/N/N), just how you like it.” “Great,” Pushing the heel of your hand into your eyes you tried to wipe away the sleep that had so quickly overtaken you. James placed you on the bathroom counter with ridiculous care, as though you were the single most precious thing in the world, handling you with such gentleness you were almost afraid about getting used to it, knowing if you were ever treated with anything less you may just break. “Let’s get this off you.” As he pushed the jacket off your shoulders and down your arms, seeing an opportunity James took it, kissing the delicate skin of your shoulder. “That tickles Jamsie,” You scolded completely unconvincingly as his light, barely there stubble grazed your skin. “Sorry darling,” The shit eating grin on his face said otherwise, “Just couldn’t help myself.” As you reached around to undo your bra James pulled his shirt over his head, leaving it to rest on the closed lid of the toilet, once his pants were pooling on the floor along with his boxers he moved to you, still perched where he first set you in your shorts. You lifted your hips so he could pull down your shorts, still soaking from a mixture of fountain and rain water. Once he sliped them and your panties off your legs his hands were back on you, caressing the your sides as he stared into your eyes, a dazed look you usually equate with post sex washes over his face. “What are you thinking about J?” You asked, tangling your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. “You,” He responded simply, leaning forward so that the two of your foreheads are melded together, his nose bumping yours, “And how much I adore you.” If you didn’t love him as much as you did you probably would’ve complained about how your face hurt from all the smiling you did around him, you knew smile lines were in your distant future but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Because everytime you looked in the mirror you would be reminded of him, almost as if you got to carry around a piece of him with you forever. “I love you too but I’m cold, can we get into the bath?” He nodded, pulling you to the edge of the counter, moving so your legs were linked together at the small of his back, hands clasping together at the back of his neck. “Let’s go, little koala,” He chuckled, one arm on your back, the other supporting your bum, a stray finger stroking your bare skin. You closed your eyes at the nickname, savoring the vibrations of his chest as he spoke and laughed. When the both of you were settled into the tub, him behind you, hands rubbing up and down your arms, his chin rested on your shoulder so that your faces were pressed together, cheek to cheek. “Did you like the walk bub?” “I did!” You smiled, turning to that your nose was prodding against the side of his face, “I don’t think I’ve thanked you-” “You don’t have to,” He shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me for spending time with you, I want to be here for you, you don’t need to pay me in ‘thank you’s’. I’m just glad I was able to help you.” “I still want to say thank you,” You murmured, reaching down into the soapy bubbles fishing around for his hand for a moment before he caught on to what you were doing and moved his hand to yours. You smiled gratefully when you felt his much larger fingers brush the back of your hand. His hum tickled your back forcing you to stop yourself from wiggling around so that the nearly overflowing water wouldn’t splash out the sides of the tub. “Can I wash your hair Jamsie?” You asked him, twisting around so that your chest was pressed to his, faces mere inches from each other. “You want to angel?” He let out a small chuckle when you enthusiastically nodded your head, your eyes going wide as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, excitedly gnawing at it. “Okay sure darling, how are we going to do this?
After you both had abandoned any pretense of keeping all of the bath water inside the bath, maneuvering was a lot easier. As you sidled up behind him you ran your hands down his muscled back, relishing in the feeling of his skin against your palms. “So pretty,” You murmured, leaning to gently kiss in between his shoulder blades. “Uh, Jamie?” You asked shyly. “Yeah?” “Could I wash your back once I’m done with your hair?” You asked nervously, as though he wasn’t already sitting in between your legs, the both of you stark naked. “I’d love that (Y/N),” He leaned back into your embrace, forgetting that he was much larger than you, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his neck, drawing yours and his initials onto the skin of his stomach. Your eyes flitted over to the shelf next to the tub where rows of shampoos and conditioners, body washes and scrubs sat. You plucked a bottle from your collection and flipped off the lid, squeezing the eucalyptus scented shampoo into your hand. “Can you scooch down for me baby?” You asked, tapping his shoulder as he wordlessly complied sliding so that his body was submerged in the bubbles and water up to his nipples. Working the soap into his hair you massaged his scalp drinking up the soft whimpers and groans he let out as you cleaned his hair. “Feels so good baby.” He praised reaching a hand back to pet your wrist. “I’m glad you like it,” Your response came with a kiss to his temple. Once 10 or so minutes, give or take, had elapsed you figured his scalp was clean enough, “Alright baby, dunk for me,” You instructed, dipping your hands into water to clean them. “Don’t want to be done though bubs, felt so nice.” He whined like a petulant toddler, reaching back for your hands trying to get them back on his scalp. “I could conditioner it for you if you’d like.” You offered, feeling benevolent. “Yes please Princess.” As you pulled the conditioner bottle from its place on the shelf James rinsed his hair, quickly moving back between your legs. He hummed as you gently yanked at his tresses, fingering in the conditioner into his hair. “I could get used to this (Y/N),” He purred, closing his eyes as waves of pleasure crested over him. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He confirmed. “When do you want to get married?” You wondered aloud to him as the thought swept over your consciousness as you continued to massage his scalp. “(Y/N) (L/N), are you proposing to me?” He quickly turned his head, craning his visage to try to meet your gaze. “Hey, stop it,” You scold, moving his head so he’s facing back forward, “Gonna get soap in your eye if you’re not careful.” “You’re avoiding my question (L/N),” James sang, relaxing back into you as you continued your ministrations on his scalp. “Shove it Potter.” “Calm down Mrs. Potter,” He teased you, “Of course I want to get married, one day. I haven’t thought about it too much though, we’re still so young.” “Oh,” You failed at masking your disappointment, “I guess.” “Baby,” He turned around to face you, hair still soapy with bubbles which ebbed at his hairline, “I am going to marry you one day, trust me, if I have any say in it I’m going to put a ring on your finger but I prefer to live in the moment with you, I need to savor every second we have together, can’t spend too much of my time looking to the future. Don’t want to miss what we have now.” HIs explanation brought a gentle smile to your face, “I get it.” You nodded. “But,” He began. “Yes?” “If I did think about us getting married…” He trailed off. You whined, removing your hands from his hair, “Come on just tell me.” “Don’t stop, why’d you stop?” James groaned going limp. “You’re a literal child, you know that Potter? Keep talking and I’ll keep massaging.” “Hmph,” After a minute he relented, “I wanna wait until we’re done with school, and not just high school, college, grad school, law school, I don’t know, whatever we want to do, wherever life takes us.” “You really want to wait that long?” “I want to wait until we’re stable, I don’t want to start our life together without a solid foundation.” “I understand that, it’s smart.” It was smart, James was a smart person and being captain of the football team and thinking through all of those pranks he and his friends were so partial to playing he had an amazing strategic mind, something you both admired and envied. Which is why you didn’t buy that he hadn’t thought about your wedding, even if he wanted to, you knew James, he couldn’t deny himself. “At our wedding I want a sit down dinner, buffet is too tacky.” You were right, he had thought about it. “Yeah?” “Yeah, and I’ve thought about your dress too.” A truly comically large grin spread across your face. “Obviously you should wear whatever you want but I think you’d look breathtaking in a ballgown. Lots of lace and bling.” “Bling?” “Yes, bling, you should look like a princess on our wedding day. But I’m torn,” “You are?” “Yes,” He exclaimed emphatically, as though he was being forced to make the most important decision in his life and both options were equally appealing. “Because you’d also look gorgeous in a simple dress, nothing too flashy, understated but still elegant, because at the same time I don’t want the dress distracting from your beauty. All eyes should be on you that day.” “You’re a sap James Potter, a sap.” Despite your words you felt a fluttering in your chest, James Potter was many things. An idiot, slightly arrogant, a pain in your ass, the sweetest man alive, and a genuinely good person, even if he was a sap. “I think I’m done darling,” He lifted his arm out of the bath, showing you his pruney fingers, “I’m turning into a raisin bub.” “But what about your back?” “Next time?” “Sure darling, next time.”
James’ shirt hung low around your knees, the soft, warm fabric tickling your damp skin, you laid on your back, your head resting against his chest which was steadily rising and falling, his toned arm wrapped around your waist, inching up the fabric of his shirt to get to your bare stomach. “You wanna watch a movie darling?” “Something stupid please.” After much debate the two of you settled on the Addams Family Values, James argued that it wasn’t stupid though you said it was pure “brain candy”, not anything too engaging or something you had to pay any attention to but still enjoyable. About 20 minutes into the movie neither of you had so much as uttered a single word, settling into the comfortable silence of merely being in each other’s embrace. That was until James spoke, abruptly breaking the silence, “Peonies,” Was all he said. “‘M sorry what?” You grumbled, your voice rough from being half asleep when he spoke. “Peonies, for our wedding, my mom has always grown them in her garden, she grows lots of flowers roses, tulips, carnations, aster, sunflowers too, but peonies have always been my favorite. Sirius and I, when we were little would sit in her garden and pick them, weaving them into little flower crowns for the other to wear, we were her Flower Princes.” “I’m a little offended you haven’t made me a flower crown J, You playfully griped, “Swear to God sometimes I think you’re more in love with Sirius than me.” “Never,” His voice was strong, certain, as he tightened his hold on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he flung one of his legs over both of yours, “Love you most (Y/N), for forever I love you most.” His words became slightly garbled as he babbled, sleep starting to over take him. “I know,” You soothed his wounded ego, stroking his arm, “I’m just playing with you Jamsie.” “Don’t want you to ever think I don’t love you.” “I’m not sure how I could,” You started, the events of the past 3 hours rushing through your brain, the phone call, the hug through the window, him tying your shoes for you, the fountain, his jacket, the bath, the Addams Family. You don’t show up for someone like James did for you unless you really love them, which evidently he did. “You, James Potter, are the most wonderful man and I love you beyond comparison.” “I love you too darling, forever and for always.” It didn’t take you long to fall asleep lying in his arms, he pulled up a blanket around both of your shoulders, both of you being too lazy to get under the actual covers. To the metronome of James’ heart beat, and the rhythm of him moving his leg over your you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Sunday morning you woke up sorely missing the morning prior, waking up in James’ arms was unlike anything you could ever dream of. And instead of sleeping in until 10 like you had with him you were up at the crack of dawn to the sound of the construction going on next door at your neighbor’s house. After much resistance on your part you dragged yourself out of bed and downstairs to fix yourself some breakfast, wishing James was there to make it for the two of you as he had yesterday before going off to work at the local consignment store. Smearing jam over your toast you aimed it for your mouth missing by an inch or two as you were distracted, scrolling through your phone in your opposite hand. Apricot jam smeared across your face in a mess of orange-yellow glory when you jumped at the abrupt sound of the doorbell ringing. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” You murmured, dropping your toast onto your plate before rushing to get the door, not wanting a second ring to wake the other people in your house. “Hi,” You greeted opening the door to a middle aged woman with a worn face in a pair of khakis and a company shirt you didn’t bother taking too close a look at, “How can I help you?” “Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?” She asked, a pleasant smile gracing her lips. “Yes, I am.” You confirmed, puzzled as to why this woman was at your door so early in the morning.” “Someone ordered flowers to your house for you,” She explained patiently, detecting your befuddlement, “There should be a card in the arrangement.” She said as she handed you an extravagant bouquet of brilliant pink flowers. Peonies.
tagging: @randomoutsiders​
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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 3 years
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Hurricane - Bang Chan Mafia AU Part 1
Warnings: Violence, language, drugs
A/N: Hey ya’ll, I missed writing these mafia fics so here’s Bang Chan’s :D as for those asking about Inure and AASB, both will be worked on and posted! I have started the next part of both of them, as my motivation is slowly coming back! I can’t wait to be posting more, and I’m BEYOND stoked to be writing a mafia fic again. Here’s the long awaited part 1 of Hurricane!
(Next Part ->)
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Your hand stretched out, soft droplets of rain gently splattering in your palm.
Raining again? 
The city was plagued with soft thunderstorms all throughout the week, and you believed the cloud of melancholy that was rumbling in your head may have been caused by it. Your life wasn’t necessarily hard, but it lacked something… It lacked excitement. You got up for work every morning, then went home and cooked dinner, watched some movies, then went to sleep. You were beginning to wonder when this boring little life of yours will have meaning, when it’ll give you a reason to want to get up in the morning.
I’m pathetic. 
A deep sigh left your lips as you grabbed both of your umbrellas, one a soft matte black, and the other a pattern of greens with Totoro on it. A small gift from a friend of yours when you had left town to work in the city. When you had left to “live your dream.” 
A depressed, lonely journalist walking through a rainy city, how ironic. You should’ve been in one of those Kdrama’s, or maybe an 80’s movie. At least your life would have some kind of excitement, some kind of meaning behind it. Hell, you hardly had friends, or even a love interest.
The rain picked up, and so did the wind, causing the rain to move sideways and wet your black cardigan. You stepped under a bus stop for a moment, as you had left for work early that morning. Making a five minute rest stop wouldn’t put a dent in your punctuality. 
You looked down at your phone and scrolled through Instagram, seeing a picture of one of your friends that had been left behind in the small town you had moved too for college. She was smiling happily with her now fiancé, and you felt a little jealousy. She didn’t have to leave town to follow her dreams, she didn’t have to leave anyone behind to find love, she didn’t have to give up her everyday life to be happy. 
The last time you had talked to her though, she had been upset with you. It’s not like it’s your fault really, but she thinks you had forgotten all about her and your other friends. What were you supposed to do though? Drop the job you had gone to school for/have been trying to get for months? She had always talked about the city, why couldn’t she come see you? 
You were interrupted from your thoughts as a man hurried under the bus stop, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. He wore a nice, expensive looking leather jacket, but it had no hood. Your eyes glanced up at his face, and he suddenly looked at you. Your cheeks turned red as he had caught you looking at him, but all he did was give a light chuckle.
“Didn’t even bother to check the weather today.” He said, wiping some of the rain droplets from his brow. “And a car drove by and splashed me.”
“I hate city drivers.” You chuckled. “It’s like they do it on purpose.”
“Oh, he definitely did it on purpose.” He chuckled, flashing a bright grin. “Asshole.”
His smile was pretty, a nice set of white teeth showing past his plump lips. His lips were dark as his teeth chattered, the light, early spring breeze not doing the rain any justice. You felt bad for him, and reached into your bag and handed him the other umbrella. His eyes went down to it, then up to your eyes.
“It’s too cold and raining too hard for you to not have an umbrella.” You said.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
You gave him a polite smile and nodded, watching his hand slowly reach out and grab it. Not only was his smile pretty, but so were his hands. His fingers were nice and slender, but still had a masculine look to them.
“Do you take this route often?” He asked.
“Yeah, I take it every morning to work.” You blurted out.
Idiot, why would you tell him that! 
“Really? I’ll have to come here one morning so I can return this.” He said, raising the umbrella a little.
“It’s not that big of a deal.” You chuckled.
He popped it open and the image of Totoro was clear as day, and you wanted to facepalm so hard. Why the Hell did you give him that one? 
He turned to you, an amused grin across his face. 
“Totoro huh?” He asked with a chuckle.
“I-If you don’t like it you can take the black one.” You said, your cheeks red.
“Nah, I like this one. It’s cute.” He said with a big smile before he started to walk away. 
He turned back to you as he stepped out in the rain, waving to you. “Thanks again, I’ll be sure to give this back!”
You watched him walk away before stepping away from the bus stop yourself and heading towards the building you worked in. As much as you wanted this job, sometimes you felt dread as you saw the building come into view. You never got any of the exciting things to write about, just boring old ads for newspapers, and sometimes you got lucky enough to post the daily comic. How nice it was to see Garfields face while typing. Even with all the overtime and running around you do for your boss and everyone else, you didn’t feel as though they truly appreciated you.
You stepped through the doors and made your way to the break room, a small smile on your face when you saw a cup of iced coffee with a note and your name attached to it. Out of everyone in the building, only one of them truly appreciated you. You both did this thing where you’d get each other coffee here and there, or leave little bags of treats.
“Hey Yujun.” You said as you walked past his cubicle. “Thanks for the coffee.” 
“No problem Y/N, Jihya isn’t in today, so maybe you’ll be able to write something juicy for once.” He said as he gave you a bright smile.
You gave him a thumbs up as you made your way to your cubicle, setting down your bag and your coffee. Jihya was only a position above you, but she constantly acted as though she was the CEO. Which meant, she was a total bitch. 
“Y/N.” Your boss called.
You stood up and bowed as he strolled over to you, a small smile on his face. “Jihya is going to be off for the next few days, so I’ll need you to write this.”
He handed you a small handful of papers and you smiled at him and nodded. “I’ll do my best Mr. Jang.”
Though you never felt like Mr. Jang totally liked you, he was rather kind. He kept everything he said to you short and sweet. You weren’t sure if he was just shy or if he truly didn’t like talking to anyone… Or maybe it was just you.
You set the papers down and looked through it, excitement making your eyes gleam. It was your first real story you’d be writing for, though the situation wasn’t anything to be excited about. The day before, a small bomb went off in a cafe. Though it wasn’t big, there were a few casualties, one being a young child. There had been an uprise in mafia groups and gangs recently, a lot more crime and dangerous activity appearing. You read through the papers, highlighting important parts and a few lines from a few interviews that a few others were able to get. 
Your fingers rapidly glided across your keyboard, your eyes steadily watching the screen as words flowed out of your fingertips. You went over every paragraph multiple times, checking for any spelling or grammar mistakes, your eyes sharp. Lunch came around faster than usual, and honestly, you were close to skipping it. The story and your opportunity to really impress your boss and the company giving you too much excitement. 
“You coming to lunch?” Yujun asked.
“Nah, I’m doing this story.” You said, not taking your eyes off of the screen.
“Y/N, I know you’re excited for this, but you need to get some energy!” He scolded you. “And looking at a screen like that for too long at a time is going to give you a headache.”
You sighed, knowing he was right.
“I know… I just got so wrapped up in the fact that I finally got something!” 
“I know, it’s exciting getting your first big story, but once you get hungry or your head starts hurting, you won’t be able to focus.” He pointed out. “And you need to be on your A game for this one.”
“You’re right.” You said with a smile, standing up and stretching. “I guess I should listen to you.”
“You guess?” He chuckled.
You followed Yujun into the break room, finally feeling grateful for the hour break you got. You had plenty of time to eat and think about what else you wanted to write for the article. You rummaged through your bag for your lunch, and realized you had grabbed the second umbrella after noticing it was raining instead of your lunch.
“Shit.” You cursed under your breath.
“Forget your lunch?” Yujun asked.
“Yeah.” You sighed. “I grabbed my second umbrella instead… Which I, by the way, gave to some stranger on the street since he forgot one.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day.” Yujun said, reaching into his book bag and pulling out a second cup of noodles. “I brought two.”
“It’s like we were destined for each other.” You laughed as he handed you the cup of noodles.
You both sat there eating and you observed Yujun’s face. He was a couple years younger than you, and his face really proved his youth. He looked much younger than he actually was, his large eyes passing him off as a young high schooler. Despite him being a few years younger, you preferred him to not use honorifics with you, considering you were both pretty close. 
“You’re writing about the bomb that went off, right?” Yujun asked.
“Yeah, thank goodness Jihya’s sick.” You said with a smile. “As fucked up as it sounds.”
“Not fucked up, accurate.” Yujun said, an evil little grin on his face.
You laughed as you stuck your chopsticks into your noodles, finally bringing them to your lips and sighing happily. 
“Noodles are the best to have when it’s chilly and rainy.” You said. 
“I agree.” He said muffly, a mouth full of noodles stuffing his cheeks.
You laughed at the way he looked, cheeks puffed out, large innocent eyes bigger than usual. He smiled at you through his stuffed cheeks and chewed, covering his mouth politely as he spoke. 
“How’s the article coming?” He asked.
“So far so good, I’m so immersed in it. It feels so good to be able to get an ACTUAL job.” You said with a smile.
Yujun gave you an all too knowing nod. “It took forever to actually get a good story myself, no one ever believes in us little guys. They always give the good stuff to the seniors.” 
You nodded in agreement, feeling sorry for Yujun. He had been here a year longer than you, and he had just recently gotten his first big story about two months back. 
“What do you have so far?” He asked. 
You reached into your bag and took out a dark purple folder, sliding the paper with the information out. You pointed out everything you’ve highlighted so far, and you realized that this was the perfect opportunity to get help from someone who's worked on stories like this. You explained thoroughly what you had gotten down so far, and how you worded certain areas. Yujun listened carefully, and even took a pen out from his bag and circled certain things you had down to add a word or two, or pointed out a few more things. 
“I’m impressed, this is really good.” Yujun said.
“I still made quite a few mistakes.” You sighed.
Yujun patted your shoulder and gave you a soft smile.
“Listen, this is your first big story. It’s not going to be perfect your first try, and it won’t be your second. We all make small mistakes or tend to leave things out, or we could even use bigger and better words. I still make mistakes, and I made ten times the amount you made on my first try.” Yujun pointed out. 
“Really? You made a lot of mistakes?” You asked.
“Hell yeah, the unfortunate part for me is that Jihya was the one who went over mine, and I got an eraser pegged at my face.” He laughed.
“Really?!” You gasped.
“Yup. Bounced right off my nose.” He chuckled. “So you’re pretty lucky you got me to be the one to check it over.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” You laughed.
You both checked the time and headed back to your cubicles, and you quickly opened your laptop, hurrying to change what Yujun suggested. He had left you quite a few notes as references to what words and phrases you could use while writing the article. Your fingers fired away on the keyboard, your eyes going back and forth between your notes and your laptop. The hours ticked away a lot faster than usual, and you jumped when Yujun came over to your desk.
“Ready to head home?” He asked.
“For once, no.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I can’t believe it’s 5;30 already.”
“Believe it Toots.” He said with a smile. “You heading out?”
“Ya know what, I think I’m gonna stay a bit longer.” You said. “Try and get some of this done. I need enough time to write it out and thoroughly go through it.”
“I understand, don’t get too caught up in it.” Yujun said. “I did that my first real story, and I lost days of sleep.”
“I’ll try not too.” You said reassuringly. 
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, waving goodbye to you.
You waved back then hunched closer to your laptop, pulling the papers with the story on it closer so you could highlight key points. You looked through all the papers and found the interviews with key witnesses, taking the important ones and rewriting them and highlighting major points. The persistent tapping of your laptop keyboard filling the empty room.
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The hours quickly ticked away, and you were startled by the door to the main office opening. You looked up and saw Mr. Jang looking at you, a little confused,
“What are you still doing here Y/N?” He asked.
“Sorry Mr. Jang, I’m still working on the story you gave me, and I lost track of time. I wasn’t going to stay this long.” You said quickly, shocked to see that it was 8PM.
“It’s no trouble Y/N, I appreciate you staying and devoting yourself to your work.” He said with a kind smile. “But I do need to lock up.”
“Oh, no problem!” You said hurriedly, getting up and closing your laptop, taking your notes and putting them in your bag. “Sorry, I didn’t clock out. I won’t expect overtime.”
“You worked over time, didn’t you?” He asked with a chuckle. “I’m not worried about paying you for overtime, Y/N. Like I said, I appreciate you devoting yourself to your work.”
You bowed to him and he gave you another kind smile before opening the front door for you and locking it. 
“Will you be okay getting home with it being this dark?” He asked.”Do you need a ride?”
“Oh, I should be okay.” You reassured him. “I appreciate that though!”
He gave you a smile and headed to his care, and you smiled as you turned and walked towards your apartment. The smell of the recent rain and early spring put you in an even better mood than before, and you decided that, when you get home, you’ll order out some noodles and continue to go over the papers and continue highlighting and writing down key points and what you’d like to put into your article. You could use your personal laptop and type what you need to, then email it to yourself so you could copy and paste it to what you have. 
You got to the front of the building and went to open the door, and noticed it was locked. Of course, it would be locked. The first time since you moved in it’s locked, and your key to the front had broken. Your landlord, however, had given you a key to the basement, just in case this would happen. 
You groaned as you started to make your way to the back of the building, which was connected to multiple alleyways, and sat right across from the back of a few places. You began to come around the back when you spotted something familiar on the ground. You bent down and picked it up, a scoff leaving your lips. It was your Totoro umbrella, it had been open and just laying on the ground. If he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t have taken it!
You were ripped from your thoughts as you stared down at a dark mark that covered the one side. You stuck your hand towards it and touched it, noticing it was really warm compared to what the rest of the umbrella felt like. You looked down at your hand and noticed it was red.
Is this...Blood?
Your head shot up when you heard voices, and you quickly pressed yourself against the building. The surface colder than usual because of the rain, goosebumps beginning to adorn your skin. You slowly peaked over the side of the building, and noticed four men standing around another, who was on the ground. You noticed one of the men kick the one on the ground as he went to get up, and he grunted as he hit the ground hard. The man who had kicked him lifted him by his shirt, and your breath got caught in your throat.
It was the man from earlier. His leather jacket was gone, the white shirt that had been beneath it stained a dark red on the side of his stomach, and small red drops from the blood from his lip stained the neck of it. You heard the man holding him up say something, and the man from earlier rasped out a response that got him thrown onto the concrete, and a swift kick to the spot that was bleeding heavily. He let out a short wheeze, his hands trembling as he slowly started to get up. The same man kicked him again, knocking him over. He kicked him multiple times until one of the other men pulled him off, two others approaching the one on the ground. 
One held him down while the other stuck a syringe in his neck, making him jerk. They held him down for about two minutes before he went limp, his eyes closing.
“What did you give him?” The one that had been kicking him asked.
“120 Milligrams of Ketamine. It should last about 30 minutes, and when he wakes up, he’ll be too sick to do anything.” The one who had pushed the syringe into his neck said.
“Perfect.” The other responded.
He and two of the other men began to walk away, when he whistled for the one who had administered the drug. “When you hear my signal, come out to the truck, we’re gonna go talk to Boss then we’ll get him in the truck.”
The other nodded as the three walked away. You pressed yourself against the wall between the building and the dumpster. The three men didn’t notice you, and you watched them head away from the small alleyway. You had to think of something, and you had to think fast.
You waited a few minutes before mimicking the man's whistle as best as you could, and the man standing by the one from earlier looked around.
“Already? That was fast.” He said to himself as he began to walk towards you.
You pressed against the wall and held your breath as he passed, waiting until he was completely out of sight before hurrying over to the man on the ground. You dropped down beside him and checked his pulse, feeling it pulsating fast. You quickly got up and unlocked the door to the basement, fumbling with your keys as your hands shook. You quickly unlocked it then hurried over to the man, bending down and wrapping his arm over your shoulder. You quickly dragged him into the doorway, a gasp leaving your lips as you fell, forgetting that the stairs were very steep. You were just able to catch yourself, but cringed when you heard the man fall onto the hard concrete floor of the basement.
“Sorry…” You muttered as you looked down at him, facedown.
He didn’t respond, and you quickly shut and locked the basement door before hurrying back down the stairs. The dim light didn’t do much, so you flashed your phone's flashlight over where he was bleeding on the side of his stomach. A deep gash was showing through the rip in his shirt, and your stomach turned.
“Were you stabbed?” You whispered, though you knew you weren’t going to get an answer.
You quickly took your cardigan off, and gently lifted it enough so you could wrap it around his waist. It was a good thing you liked long cardigans, because you were able to double wrap it and tighten and press the knot to his wound to stop the bleeding.
You kept your hands over the knot, pressing it against his wound for a couple minutes as you thought of what to do. You jumped when you heard the men outside of the door, hearing them yelling and cursing.
“Let’s get you up to my apartment.” You said, gently sticking your hand out and feeling his pulse again.
It had calmed down only slightly, but the feeling of his warm, smooth skin under your hands felt… Weird. You shook off the feeling and gently lifted him, keeping his arm wrapped around your neck as you began to drag him towards the stairs leading up the apartments.
*bonk*
You gasped as you accidentally hit his head off of one of the pipes that stuck out.
“Sorry.” You said softly.
*bonk*
Another pipe, straight to the noggin.
“Sorry!” You apologized again, moving him over.
*BONK*
“OH MY GOD!”
When you finally got him to the last stair, you began to wonder if he would’ve been better off being taken by the other guys. He had gotten quite the beating just from you trying to help him. You opened the door leading out of the basement and began to head towards the elevator to get to your floor.
You were glad that mainly old people lived here, knowing everyone should be asleep and no questions should be asked. You got off of the elevator, your back beginning to hurt from holding his weight and your own.
“Ms. Y/N?”
You froze, slowly turning and making eye contact with Mrs. Boo, one of your neighbors. She looked at you worriedly, glancing at Chan.
“Did something happen?” She asked.
“Oh, uh, my friend here and I went to the bar when I was done work. He got a little too drunk and then a huge bar fight happened.” You said with a reassuring smile.
“Oh! You young people can be so careless!” She said.
“Yeah, you got that right.” You said. “Well I’m gonna get him inside and treat these bruises, have a good night Mrs. Boo!”
“You too, dear.” She said with a smile as she slowly stepped back into her own apartment.
You reached for your keys, slowly losing your grip on him and his head went straight into your door.
“.... God dammit.” You muttered as you unlocked the door.
His body slid forward but you were able to catch him, a huff leaving your lips.
“Aht aht aht, I caught you that time.” You said.
You leaned him sitting up against your wall as you quickly cleared off your kitchen table, finally testing out just how sturdy the fine wood was.
Hauling him up the stairs was a chore, but getting him up on the table after hauling him up multiple flights of stairs was a new challenge. When you finally got him up on the table, turned on all three of the lights in the kitchen/dining room area. You slowly ripped his shirt where the injury was, and you were finally able to get a good look at it.
It was deep and fleshy, but didn’t look life threatening. You noticed his eyes clench, and a heavy breath left his lips.
“Sir? Are you okay?” You asked.
His eyes slowly fluttered open, his breathing labored. His eyes roamed until they landed on you, and he squinted hard.
“Hey, are you okay?” You asked.
His eyes finally focused, and he looked over your face.
“It’s you… From earlier.” He rasped.
“Yeah, I saw what those men were doing to you. You were behind my apartment building.” You told him.
He slowly nodded, a small puff of air leaving his lips.
“I’ll call and ambulance for you.” You said, reaching for your phone.
His hand shot out and grabbed yours, his breathing more harsh.
“No ambulances… No cops.” He rasped..
“Why not? Those men could’ve killed you!” You pointed out.
“Please…” He rasped.
You were silent as you looked him over, bloody and almost pitiful.
“I have a needle and some thread for sewing, I can give you stitches.” You said.
He nodded as you hurried over to the cabinet above your kitchen sink, grabbing the sewing kit. You grabbed some salt, some water, a water bottle, the first aid kit, and the bottle of vodka you’ve had for months.
“I’m gonna disinfect the needle with the vodka okay? I’m gonna pour some salt over the wound to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” You told him. (Salt dehydrates bacteria by pulling the water out of it)
He nodded and kept his eyes closed as you poured some of the vodka onto the needle, gently placing it on a paper towel. You poured some of the sea salt into your hand then pressed it into his wound. His breathing hitched, but he didn’t protest or move, then his whole body relaxed.
“I don’t have anything to numb it.” You said gently. “But I have the vodka and I have a water bottle.”
He nodded as you pressed the cold water bottle against his face, as he had been sweating, and he closed his eyes. You went to see if he wanted some of the vodka, but he turned away from it.
“Just please… Get it done and over with.” He rasped.
You slowly nodded as you put the black thread through the needle and slowly leaned forward, getting a good hold on the skin before pushing it through. His body tense, but he didn’t make a sound or jerk around. You kept glancing at him every time the needle pierced into the wounded skin, until the last part of the thread finally close the wound completely.
“It’s over now.” You said gently, grabbing a rag and gently dabbing at the blood.
He softly nodded, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he breathed raggedly. You gently pushed the hair out of his face, cringing at a big bruise on the side of his head from you bumping his head off of every possible pipe in the basement…. And quite possibly for from when you dropped him.
You opened the water bottle and gently lifted his head, pouring a little in his mouth. A small amount of color came back to his face as the water entered his body, and his eyes fluttered open again.
“Thank you.” He said hoarsely.
You nodded as you wiped the sweat off of his chest and face, being as gentle as you can as his eyes closed again. Now that he wasn’t watching you, your eyes lowered to his body.
Oh sweet baby Jesus.
You shook your head and lightly hit it before cleaning up all the bloody paper towels and putting everything back in its place. Most of your apartment was dark, and you guess that’s how you didn’t realize the person standing behind you, until a cold metal was placed against your neck.
Your whole body froze, and you lifted your hands in submission, your knees shaking.
“Who the hell are you?” A man’s voice asked in your ear.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Since you’re in my apartment?” You asked.
You felt the sharpness of the Metal press harder into your neck, and your whole body began to tremble.
“Hyunjin…” The man on your table rasped. “Stop.”
The man who had the knife to your neck slowly lowered it. He kept a hold on you as he approached the man laying on the table.
“Chan Hyung, what happened?” The man named Hyunjin asked.
Chan? That’s his name?
“Some of Yohyuns men.” Chan rasped. “She saved me.”
You finally got a look at Hyunjin’s face. He was pretty, sharp eyes meeting yours as he kept a hard expression.
“Sorry for the knife to your neck.” He said, before turning back to Chan. “Felix and Jisung are outside, we can bring you home.”
Chan nodded, his eyes opening as they met yours.
“What’s your name?” He asked in a raspy voice.
“Y/N.” You answered.
He gave you a soft smile, and you couldn’t help but ask yourself how anyone could hurt him.
“Thank you, Y/N. I’ll have to repay you someday.” He said.
“Don’t worry about that, worry about getting better.” You said.
Hyunjin gave a small smile of approval and then leaned forward and held Chan up. Chan looked at you again, his honey brown eyes a little brighter as he slightly bowed to you. You held the door for the two of them as Hyunjin held Chan up, and you watched them disappear into the elevator.
When they had gone, you dropped yourself onto your couch, looking at your curling.
“What a crazy night.” You murmured to yourself.
You quickly checked your phone, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you realzed it was only 9:15. Your favorite noodle place closed at 10, so you had enough time to order and have it delivered.
When the noodles came, you left a pretty nice tip to the delivery driver for delivering right before close, and then you sat at your desk and quickly took your notes out. You stuffed your face with noodles as you read over everything, continuing to highlight what you needed.
Hours ticked on, the clock striking 6 AM a lot faster than you expected. Looks like you weren’t getting any sleep, not that you could sleep anyways. This project was too big, too important, and the events from the night before kept replaying in your head. You had wanted your life to pick up a little bit, but not this much in one day. This was almost too much to ask for.
You finally got up to shower and get ready for work, applying a few layers of concealer to hide the bags that would rat you out to Yujun. He might be able to tell you haven’t slept either way, but you could at least hope you could find a way to hide them.
You quickly organized your notes and papers and packed them up, finally heading out the door. It had rained again, not that you were surprised. The deep puddles nearly enough to swallow your ankles if you were unlucky enough to not pay attention. You were surprised you were able to focus, the project and Chan completely occupying your mind.
“Stay up all night?” Yujun’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you entered the building.
“Damn, hardly even looked at me and already caught me.” You chuckled.
He smiled at you and patted your head, his eyes soft.
“You should really rest ya know.” He said. “Rest is a key part to writing good articles.”
“I know, I was just too excited.” You said.
You didn’t want to tell him about the Chan situation, not wanting to worry him. You trusted Yujun a lot, but for some reason other than not wanting to worry him, you found it better not to say anything.
Xx
You sat in your cubicle, fingers clicking away. The day had gone by fast, and everyone had left already. It was a Friday, which meant you all left pretty early. Usually you were out of the office by 2:30-3 the latest, but today, you couldn’t help but be glued to your laptop. You were so close to finishing the article, you could practically already see it, printed in fine lettering. This whole article could completely make or destroy your career, and you were getting more anxious, yet excited, as you slowly got closer to the end.
You only had a few paragraphs left, but you glanced at the clock. It was going on 6, and you knew Mr. Jang wanted to leave soon, as he had always left at 6 instead of 8 on Friday’s.
“Still here again?” He asked.
You turned towards him as he stepped out of his office, a smile on your face.
“I’m almost done… Could you look it over for me? If you have the time?” You asked.
“Of course.” He said with a smile as he walked over.
His eyes scanned your laptop, his fingers lightly hovering over the pad to scroll down or up to read. His eyes were intensely scanning the words, each paragraph being implanted in his brain.
When he finished he pulled away. He looked at you, the same expression his face changing as he smiled.
“I like it. I like it a lot actually. Keep up the good work, I now know what you’re capable of.” He said with a bigger smile. “Big things are going to start coming your way, Y/N.”
You beamed at his praise, a huge smile on your face as you bowed to him.
“Thank you so much Mr. Jang!” You said excitedly.
He walked you out of the office, waving goodbye to you as you turned towards the direction of your apartment. You looked up at the darkening sky, inhaling deeply, a big smile on your face. You began to walk home, stopping in the little convenient store for a few snacks and a quick dinner. You grabbed some of the pork dumplings they had, your stomach rumbling.
You approached the front door to your apartment building, and you sighed in relief when the door opened. Thank god it wasn’t locked again, you don’t need more stress like last night.
You entered the elevator and pressed the button to go up to your floor, when you felt a sudden wave of dread. Something felt off, and you couldn’t tell what it was. You clutched the plastic bag with your snacks in it, and decided to brush it off.
You just got great news about your career, why are you worrying now? Nothing could ruin this moment for you, and you weren’t going to let anything destroy your hope.
You got off of the elevator and walked over to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside. Your whole apartment was dark, and the skin on your neck and back began to crawl as the same eerie feeling began to haunt you. You walked over towards the light switch when a cold metal touched your temple, a soft click filling your ears. Your body shook, your eyes making out a dark figure beside you.
“W-Who are you?” You asked.
“You made the biggest mistake of your life getting involved.” A man’s voice growled. “Unfortunately, it’s costing you your life.”
Your hands shook as tears filled your eyes. “Please don’t… I won’t tell anyone.”
The cold metal pressed against the skin on your temple, a soft chuckle leaving the man’s lips.
“I don’t give a shit who you would’ve told, you were an idiot for saving that man. You took away an opportunity for me, and the only way to pay that back is your life.”
You heard the safety click and closed your eyes tight, your whole body shaking. You heard a weird squelching sound and a choked gasp. The gun fell away from your head and you slowly opened your eyes.
Another man stood over the one that held the gun to your head, and the moonlight illuminated the man. It was the one that had been kicking Chan the night before, a knife was sticking out of his neck, his eyes open and wide.
The other man you didn’t recognize. He wore a black hat and dark clothing, his eyes meeting yours.
“Are you hurt?” He asked.
“N-No…” You whispered shakily.
“Are you Y/N?” He asked.
You nodded and he slowly approached you.
“I was sent here to come get you, and it looks like I got here just in time.” He said. “Come with me.”
You didn’t ask any questions. If your mother was here, she'd scold you for willingly just following a stranger. But he had just saved you, so he can’t be all that bad, right? As you were stepping out the door, you smelled smoke, and quickly turned around. A fire was starting to smoke up the living room, and you went to go towards it when the man stopped you.
“Leave it.” He said, pulling you away with him.
He took you down the emergency stairs so no one would see you, and when you reached the side of the building, you heard the fire alarm blaring.
“Hurry.” The man said lowly.
You followed him to an Escalade, the giant dark truck reflecting the flames that were beginning to burst through your open apartment window. You watched it for a second, your heart shattering.
Everything you had ever worked for was in that apartment. The project, your degree, all the money you had put into making the place feel like home… It was all gone.
“Come on, we can’t stick around.” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
You shakily opened the passenger side door and got in, finally getting a good look at your savior. He was short, shorter than most guys. His dark hair hung in his eyes as the hat he had on flattened it even more. He was wearing all black, and the gloves he wore had blood splattered in them.
“I’m Changbin.” He introduced himself.
You wanted to respond, but nothing came out. Your throat was dry from holding your tears back, so you just gave him a stiff nod. Your eyes wandered out the window as a big cloud of back smoke hung in the sky from your apartment building. It began to grow smaller as Changbin drove you away, taking you away from the dream you had chased for so long.
Changbin finally pulled into a massive drive way, the whole thing circling a massive fountain. Your eyes were wide as you looked at the mansion, statues and art carved into the columns sticking out, even in the dark.
“Follow me.” He said.
You slowly stepped out of the truck, and stiffly followed him up the giant stairs. He opened the two giant doors to the mansion, and you stared at the entrance. Another fountain was in the middle of an archway, and two sets of staircases that twirled around sat on each side. The place smelled like gingerbread, and the beautiful white and gold walls were bright, almost blindingly bright.
“Did you retrieve her?” A voice asked as a head popped around the fountain.
“Yes, this is Y/N.” Changbin introduced you.
The younger male smiled at you, his dark eyes sparkling.
“I’m Felix.” He said, beckoning for you to follow. “Come with me, someone wants to see you.” He said, leading you and Changbin through a giant hallway.
You heard more voices as you got closer, and you decided to stay closer to Changbin. Felix opened a giant door and multiple heads turned, but only one caught your attention. It was Chan.
“Y/N.” He called to you, a smile on his face. 
His lips were still cut up, and he had a bruise on his jaw, but his eyes were shining. He stepped towards you, a big smile on his face.
“It’s good to see you.” He said, his smile faltering when he saw your expression. “What’s wrong? Didn’t something happen?”
“One of Yohyun’s men got into her apartment. I got there just in time.” Changbin told him.
“I made the right decision sending you when I did.” Chan said, his expression completely changed.
He looked down at you and stretched his hand out, gently touching your shoulder.
“You’re safe here, okay?” He said.
“W-Whats going on?” You asked.
Chan sighed but gave you a soft smile.
“When you saved me, you ruined plans for them. You see… I’m a very wanted man right now.” He explained. “And I knew they would find out who had saved me, and I knew you’d be in danger.”
“Why would I be in danger for saving you?” You asked.
“Because like I said, I’m a very wanted man.” He said softly. “You stole a… Big bounty from them.”
You were silent as Chan rubbed your shoulder, his warm touch almost comforting.
“What if they look for me again?” You asked.
“We won’t let them hurt you, Y/N.” Chan said. 
“And where will I go?” You asked. “My apartment was on fire… I lost everything…” 
Chan’s eyes were soft as he looked at you, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“You’re going to uh.. Have to stay here… With the eight of us.” 
264 notes · View notes
dewdropdeku · 3 years
Text
armin has a crush on you
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↳ armin arlert x gn!reader
↳ genre: fluff, modern!au, slight college!au
↳ w.c: 1.2k
↳ warnings: none
↳ a/n: this is the first time posting any sort of fic writing so i hope you enjoy! (criticism is appreciated but pls don’t be mean)! also, i use "reader" as a placeholder name rather than "y/n".
↳ not proofread/edited!
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ok first of all armin best boy
i feel like armin’s the type to know how he feels but not necessarily know how to actually tell you
y’all probably share a few gen ed classes
maybe you were introduced by a mutual friend
like one day your friend mikasa invites you to study with her and armin and from then on you guys start to hang out together
is touched when you invite him to study with your friends
and when he gets there to the library and you wave him over to your table he probably goes to sit in the chair opposite you but you grab his wrist and encourage him to sit next to you so he takes an extra long time getting his stuff out of his bag bc he’s trying to hide the blush on his cheeks and ears
after studying at the library your friends are going out to eat but he doesn’t wanna intrude on like casual friend time so he says he has to continue working on stuff and starts heading home
armin is kinda surprised when you jog up next to him as he walks to his dorm once you say goodbye to your friends bc you’re “tired and want a nap”
you look over at him and smile and ask if you can join him
and he’s like,,, “i’m just gonna be working on some stuff it’ll be boring to hang out with me. didn’t you tell them you’re tired? you should rest” but rly he’s nervous bc he wasn’t actually planning on working on stuff he just didn’t wanna intrude in your friend group
and you’re like,,, “no it’s okay i just said that…” you kinda trail off bc how do you tell your crush you just blew off the chance to hang out with friends for the chance to hang out with him. “i can just keep you company while you work”
cue blushy min but who is he to say no really
so you walk together to his dorm and while he sets his stuff out on his desk he tells you to make yourself comfy
so you jump on his bed and take out a book
he gets butterflies~~ when he notices it’s one he recommended to you
actually melted when you asked him for book recommendations by the way
and when you fall asleep on his bed armin thinks he might just die
pulls a blanket over you and lets you sleep while he works or reads to watches netflix or smtg
when you wake up all flustered and embarrassed he brushes it off with smtg like “guess you were tired after all” but on the inside he thinks it’s so cute omg bye
oh backtracking to books!!!1!!1!1! if you ever offered book recs to him he would short circuit i think
pls could you image “armin! i read this book recently and i think you’d really like it here take my copy i hope you enjoy!”
he would combust bye
anyway after a while of you kinda inviting yourself to hang out/study with him often eventually he actually expects you to come w him/meet him/hang out with him
“aren’t you coming?”
“oh, i thought you were gonna hang out with eren, i was just heading home”
“eren doesn’t care, come with me”
now it’s your turn to blush omg
after a while of y’all hanging out regularly he feels himself get more and more comfortable talking to you and not so nervous all the time
probably finds it attractive when you are genuinely interested in what he has to say so if he rambles pls smile and nod and rest your chin on your hand dreamily
so when he realizes he’s rambling and he notices he gets embarrassed and is like “sorry,,, i was rambling, wasn’t i?”
you can respond with a smile and reassure him you like listening/are interested and encourage him to keep going
and he’ll look bashful on the outside
probably scratch the back of his head/neck and avoid eye contact
but is internally excited that you wanna listen so he does continue
he’d be so touched if you ASkeD quEstiONS bc like,,,, that tells him you’re actually listening and not just letting him talk absentmindedly
i can see it now; armin texts you to confirm that your weekly study date is still on and you respond with “actually,, i wanted to go see this new movie with this guy i like,,, rain check”
and he gets rly sad omg like his chest tightens up and he goes “oh. ok, have fun!”
but then the next day eren’s like,,, cmon man no use in moping around get dressed and armin is like
no disrespect bro,,,, but stfu and leave me alone thanks haha lol
but after a while he does get dressed begrudgingly and then a few minutes later there’s a knock on the door and eren gets a text and looks up from his phone w like a grimace or some shit and he’s like,,,, “oh shit,,, armin,,, dude,,, i forgot i had plans” and armin’s like
(ಠ_ಠ) you made me get dressed,,,, while i was brooding,,, for nothing
and then eren opens the door and looks apologetically at armin and he’s like “i’t’s okay reader’s great company” and that’s when armin notices it was you who knocked on the door
and you smile at him and he’s now starting to put two and two together as eren slips by you and shouts a farewell down the hall and when you smile at him nervously and wave two movie tickets as a greeting he realises that no he wasn’t reading the signs wrong, and yes you do like him back (he’s a Smart Boy) and when you’re like,,,, “so,, you are free, right?”
and he’s like “........you could’ve just asked me to see a movie with you” and he mumbles the next bit but you still hear and it makes you blush “instead of making me think all jealous and mopey thinking you liked someone else”
in conclusion yes he has a fat crush but yes you’d have to make the first move bc he would Not Know How
but you absolutely have a cute dinner+movie+walk in the park date that definitely ends with a kiss and both of y’all not being able to fall asleep bc the matching face-splitting grins are too distracting
like you both just sit in your respective beds for hours that night staring at the ceiling and probably eren and mikasa and sasha and connie are all giggling deviously over mikasa’s phone after you text her that the plan worked lmao and he kissed you goodnight and omg mika he’s so cute and sweet and it was such a good date and dsfjsnjfgijf
and when armin notices a sticky note on his computer monitor from eren that reads “took you long enough” he may or may not shake his head fondly at his best friend’s antics except he’s got a blush on his cheeks bye
and if you wake up to a “good morning❤️” text from him and your heart explodes who’s gonna know
thanks for reading!! 
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simplybakugou · 4 years
Text
Birthday Wish
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↝ Having a pro hero boyfriend has its perks but when Bakugou isn’t able to spend time with you on your birthday, you can’t help but feel neglected.
BINGO SPACE: Birthday
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⋆ PAIRING: prohero!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing, fluff, a teeny tiny piece of angst if you look hard enough ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1614
A/N: here’s another piece for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! Thank you to @xtsundere-princess​ for requesting Bakugou for this prompt and happy belated birthday! I always love your feedback that you give, it always warms my heart. I hope you enjoyed this and had a wonderful birthday! :)
Credits to @eraserhead-transparents​ for the transparent Bakugou in my edit!
FULL BINGO MASTERLIST
✐posted 07.11.2020✐
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If anyone had told you that you would be in a committed relationship with one of the top heroes in the world, you would never believe them. But here you were, heavily involved with a man you loved wholeheartedly and had no intention of letting go so long as you lived. 
Being a pro hero was no easy feat as it took hours and hours of daily dedication and hard work. Having an occupation that wasn’t centered around heroism, it made things difficult for you and Bakugou at times. You tried your best to be as understanding as you could, seeing how Bakugou put his all into his job especially when several news outlets would cover stories based on his heroic deeds on a daily basis.
But at times you felt lonely, like you were the only one putting so much effort into your relationship. 
You woke up on that particular day, springing upwards in your bed excitedly. It wasn’t like any other day; today was your birthday.
You turned over, expecting to be greeted by Bakugou’s sleepy expression but your face fell at the sight of the empty sheets. A sigh escaped your lips as you reached over and grabbed the note that was left on the nightstand. “Had to get up early for patrol. I’ll see you at dinner.” 
You tossed it back onto the table, begrudgingly getting up to get ready. You told yourself that it was fine, that Bakugou saving innocent civilians was more important than spending time with you on your special day. But deep down you felt a twinge of disappointment.
You shook your head, wanting to get rid of any negative thoughts flooding your head. “No, Y/N, it’s time to be positive today!”
With that in mind, you happily got ready, blasting your favorite songs while grinning and replying to the numerous birthday messages you got from your friends. Even Bakugou’s friends and coworkers wished you a happy birthday, offering to pay for dinner which you were thankful for. 
Out of all his friends, you were closest to Ashido Mina, smiling widely when she decided to call you. “Hello?”
“Happy birthday!” Mina exclaimed through the other line. “What are you, like 60 now?”
“Haha, very funny,” you said sarcastically, earning yourself a chuckle from Mina.
“What’re you planning on doing? Is Bakugou taking you somewhere fancy?”
“I’m not sure,” you said, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “He got called to patrol real early this morning so I didn’t see him.”
“Aw, that sucks! I’m sure he’ll make it up to you later though.” Mina paused for a second, talking to someone in the background. “That was my manager. I’ve gotta head out. But I hope you have a great day, Y/N!”
“Thanks, Mina. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up and you tossed your phone into your bag, grabbing your coat and keys, heading to work.
It’s gonna be a good day… it will be a good day.
***
You were pleasantly surprised by how welcoming your coworkers were on your special day, numerous people wishing you a happy birthday. Even your boss was exceptionally kind to you. The whole day you felt surrounded and flooded with feelings of love and support, overjoyed with how kind everyone was.
But there was still something missing.
It was like everything other than the fact that Bakugou hadn’t acknowledged your birthday was perfect. There wasn’t even any traffic as you made your way back to your apartment. But it still didn’t feel right, not to hear even a “happy birthday” from your boyfriend. 
As you stopped at a red light, you practically jumped over to grab your phone from the cupholder once Bakugou’s name popped up in your notifications. Cautious to not be caught on your phone while driving, even though you were at a red light, you quickly swiped at the text message, eager to see his message.
But you felt your hopes get crushed as you frowned at the message. “I’m sorry, babe, I’m stuck at the office. Don’t worry about dinner for me.” was all that it read. You threw your phone to the passenger seat, agitated even more by the sound of the car behind you honking impatiently. 
The day was almost over and you weren’t able to spend it with the one person you loved the most. You didn’t want to overreact but Bakugou meant so much to you and for once you wanted to spend the night with him and not worry about his agency pulling him away from you.
Nevertheless you made your way back to your place, your lips downturned like a frown would be permanently etched onto your face. You exited your car, trudging inside your apartment complex. To rain on your parade even more, the elevator was out of order and you groaned as you walked up six flights of stairs to get to your place. With your chest heaving heavily up and down as you attempted to catch your breath, you shoved your key into the lock of your door, swinging it open. 
You were greeted by a mouthwatering aroma as your eyes darted to the source of the delectable smell. Your dining table was adorned with a checkered tablecloth, silverware, wine, and a candle with its flame swaying back and forth. The mess you had pushed off for later to clean had been dealt with, your whole apartment now spotless from the ceiling to the floor. 
Your bag fell to the ground in shock and Bakugou walked in from the other room, eyes widened once he saw you. “What’re you doing here?!”
“Um… I live here?” You said, your tone filled with confusion.
“No, I meant you weren’t supposed to come so early,” Bakugou grumbled, walking towards the stove to tend to whatever was causing this delicious smell. You peered over his shoulder, squealing internally to see your favorite dish that only Bakugou could make perfectly. 
“My boss let me out early. But what’s all this?” You asked, gesturing to the food and the perfectly set table. “I thought you were stuck at work?”
Bakugou smirked, wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you close to him. “You think I’d leave my girl alone on her birthday? I may be an asshole sometimes, but I’m not a dick.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “You didn’t have to lie though.”
Bakugou chuckled, kissing your head. “Just wanted to make some suspense. Plus I didn’t even finish making this shit. Why else do you think I asked the doorman to close the elevator?”
You looked at him in bewilderness. “You did that?! I had to walk up six flights of stairs! I almost died!”
Bakugou looked you up and down. “You look fine to me.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well not all of us are in shape.”
“Just go sit down. I’ll finish up here,” Bakugou said, stirring up the contents of the pan.
“But aren’t you tired? You just came from work and--”
“Y/N.”
“Fine,” you said with a pout, slipping down onto your seat and propping your elbows onto the table, your head resting on your palms. 
You silently watched your boyfriend at work, focusing on his blonde brows knit together as he concentrated on the task at hand. You were grinning now from ear to ear, your previous disappointed feelings diminished the second you saw the state of your place. In that moment, you fell for Bakugou all over again like you did the second you met him. Under his abrasive attitude, one that most people would mistaken for as him being a piece of shit, you knew he was a caring man who sometimes didn’t know how to portray his feelings outwardly.
But when he did, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
Bakugou stopped stirring as his scarlet eyes met yours, raising a questioning brow at you. “What?”
“Hm?”
“You’re staring.”
You shrugged, smiling at him. “You just look really hot right now.”
Bakugou smirked, your statement undoubtedly adding onto his already inflated ego. “I look hot all the fucking time.”
“You know, you make it so hard to compliment you sometimes…” you teased, sitting up in your seat as he began plating the dish onto two ceramic plates. He walked over to you, setting down the plate in front of you. You gazed down at the plate excitedly, your hand immediately reaching for your chopsticks.
“Thanks for the meal, Katsu,” you said, not hesitating to take your first bite.
“How is it?” Bakugou asked, smiling at the sight of the pure happiness practically radiating off of you. 
You beamed, swallowing the leftover food in your mouth before replying. “It’s delicious, Katsuki. Thank you for doing this.”
Bakugou shrugged, continuing to watch as you ate. “I never even see you now so I thought I could do something for your birthday.”
You smiled appreciatively. “Thank you for doing this. I know how hard you work and I know it must’ve been difficult to get out of work tonight.”
Bakugou could feel his cheeks heating up. Whenever you praised him, he couldn’t help but feel flustered. He turned his head, avoiding your eyes. “Whatever, it’s not that big a deal.”
You snickered, taking another bite of your food. You glanced down at his plate as it was untouched. “You’re not eating?”
“I’ll eat later.” He watched and smiled as you grinned from the deliciousness of the food. “I like watching you eat.”
Needless to say that your night had ended in the best way possible, and your one birthday wish was fulfilled.
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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years
Text
Greedy (Shinsou x Reader)
Pairing: Shinsou x Reader
Genre: Fluff/Comfort, College!AU
Summary: You’re an extremely touch-starved college student, so you ask your friend Shinsou to help you out.
Word count: 2,282
Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​
a/n: I may or may not be projecting on this one...
This took way longer to write and it ended up way longer and shittier than I expected.  Not to mention I fell asleep in the middle of writing last night, so I’m sorry this wasn’t up sooner!
I was debating between Shinsou and Todoroki on this one, but I haven’t written for Shinboi in a while, so why not? (If you guys want a Todoroki ver, I’ll write it too!)
I hit 500 followers 2 days ago!  Thank you guys again for liking my posts and my content, I really appreciate it!  I’ll work hard to give you better stuff in the future!
I said in my milestone post that I would start a new tradition of spotlighting other writers/artists in the community that I follow to spread some love around, so I’m promoting @lovingshoto​ once again!  If you want some floofy headcanons and one shots, go check her out!
Alright, I’m done talking, enjoy lovelies~
My friend blinks at me.  He's practically frozen with fear at my proposal.
"Come on, it's not that bad!  Why are you looking at me like I asked you to hide a body for me?" I whine.
"It's not that."  He puts down the drink he almost choked on.  "It's just...very strange."
I'll admit, it's a very unconventional request I asked of Shinsou, but it's very rational, I swear.  "I have scientific evidence to persuade you.  Science agrees that it helps lower depressive symptoms and stress.  And it releases Oxytocin and makes you happier.  Which I really think both of us can benefit from."
My friend sighs.  "It still sounds really weird."
"And it improves sleep."  I give him a pointed look.
For the first time in our conversation, Shinsou finally seems interested.  "Alright, I'm listening."
A grin splits my face in two.  "We can start at twice a week!  That way, it won't interfere with both of our busy schedules too much."
The violet-haired boy crosses his arms over his chest.  "What's so great about cuddling anyway?"
My jaw drops to the floor.  "Shinsou, are you telling me you've never cuddled anyone before?"  When his face turns red in shame, I know his answer.  "You poor, touch-starved boy.  How about tonight we give it a try, and then you can give me your answer?"
Shinsou levels a gaze at me.  I can't read what exactly he's thinking, but I'm hoping I'm pulling him to my side.  Spring is start to hit and I'm feeling both the emotional and physical consequences of so-called cuffing season.  Long, hot showers, wrapping myself in blankets, and clothing myself in hoodies and fuzzy socks to survive winter aren't cutting it for me anymore.  I want to say I'm becoming influenced by the amount of couples I see walking around campus, but it sounds more intelligent for me to say it's a natural instinct of animals.
But I know it's just an emotional thing, I'm lonely and touch-starved myself.
Shinsou rubs the back of his head.  "Where and when is this happening?"
The poor, confused boy stands in front of my bed.  "What am I supposed to do again?"
Huffing, I pull his arm into me.  "Just get in here and hug me.  I'll help you."
I don't blame my awkward friend for being hesitant.  He's not usually one for invading personal space and he's definitely not the hugging type.  Unfortunately for him, I am a hugger and physical touch whore.
"Just lay back like this, arm out."  I position him on his back before laying on my side, using his arm as a pillow and wrapping an arm around his torso, almost like hugging a life-sized teddy bear.  Feeling his warmth radiating from him, I hum in satisfaction.  "Just like that."
Shinsou eyes me, stiff as a board.  It's a cute expression, watching his face tinted in rosy blush.  "W-What now?"
I shrug.  "We just talk.  Or we can just stay here silently."  But he's still panicked about the whole thing, so I decide it might be easier for him to be distracted by conversation.  "How was your bio test yesterday?"
"It was...okay."  His gaze darts back and forth between me and some other object in the room.  "I think I messed up on one of the answers."
His arm under me hasn't relaxed from his tense state.  "Are you having trouble in class in general?"
"Yeah, but the bio department in general is out to get all of us anyway.  Something about narrowing down the huge number of pre-med kids."
I nod slowly, but Shinsou still looks completely nervous.  "Hey, is this making you too uncomfortable?  I don't want to force you to do something you don't like."  Maybe I went about this the wrong way.
He finally looks down at me.  "No, it's not- Damnit.  It's just... I'm not used to it.  I don't really know what I'm supposed to do, and I'm not much of a hugger, and I don't think I'm the best person to do this for you."
My heart melts at his candor, guilt eating at me.  I get up from my position.  "I'm sorry, it was selfish of me.  I didn't even think- I guess it's a little pathetic."
Shinsou sits up and hugs me.  "It's not pathetic, don't think that way."  His large hand strokes the back of my head.
I'm taken back by the sudden gesture.  "Look at you, being all touchy-feely now."
"Shut up, you're obviously trying to make this work, I should put in an effort too."  The tempo of his head pats slows.  "Also, is it...strange that I kind of missed your warmth when you pulled away?"
Something flutters inside me as I smile to myself.  "I think I've made you a believer."
"So, how did your presentation go?" Shinsou strokes my hair from behind.
His soft touches coupled with the warmth radiating from his chest on my back is a magic relaxation spell.  My eyes are already closed in bliss.  "Went great, especially since my group stayed up late the night before to practice like 500 times.  I'm just glad it's over."
"You think you did well?"
"Yeah."  I feel myself already drifting off from his hypnotic gesture.
His deep chuckle resounds in my ear.  "If you were a cat, you'd be purring right now."
I snuggle closer into his chest.  "I can't help it, I'm just so tired and you're putting me to sleep."
Shinsou has really warmed up to our twice a week cuddles.  We thought it would be best to have a Friday night cuddle to wind down from the week and a Tuesday night cuddle to energize in the middle of the week.  If either of us end up being busy one of those days, we said we can either postpone it a day or just wait until the next cuddle day, but nothing has every come up yet.  It's settled very nicely into both of our routines.
He seems to enjoy it more than me sometimes, sending me eager texts or showing up early to our cuddle sessions.  It's not uncommon for him to end up sleeping until morning as we embrace.  It warms my heart knowing he's realized the benefits of cuddling.
"Can you turn around?  My arm's about to fall asleep," Shinsou asks, and I lay on my other side, letting him fold that arm near his head and wrap the other around my torso.
Speaking of warmth, I never imagine I would feel a different kind of warmth when I'm near him.  It's not the kind that comes just from the sharing of heat.  It's the kind that sends tingles or goosebumps through you from just under the surface of your skin, makes you a different type of cozy, the feeling of sweetness without the taste.
Our relationship grew deeper than I think we both expected.   Slowly, we've opened up to each other about deeper things we wouldn't have normally talked about.  Late into the night, if we were both still awake, we would open up about out innermost thoughts, secrets, and demons.
Most importantly, I'd say it definitely improved my mood overall.  Not only did it give me something to look forward to, but I feel happier.  Even on nights where Shinsou ends up leaving for his own room, I'm left with an afterglow buzz, sleeping with a smile on my face for the rest of the night.  Thinking about it during the day sends another wave of warmth through me.  It's as if all my stress melts away when we're in each other's presence, basking in each other's scent and low breathing.
Though, there is something about cuddling Shinsou that makes me want more of him.  I don't know if this is a side effect of the warmth, but I understand his eagerness to spend more time interlocked as we do.  All I want to do is snuggle closer to him until there's no more space left.  The afterglow of the cuddle sessions would easily be replaced with a cold emptiness, leading me to crave his touch during the day.  I'm a starving child who's become a greedy glut for nourishment.
Shinsou's scent is stronger now that I'm facing him.  I press my arms into his chest, allowing me to lean in closer to his neck, gradually morphing into a ball against him.  I don't know how I survived without this before.
This week has been absolute shit.  I'm so close to screaming at something, my lungs feel like they're going to burst.  A mix of anger, self-loathing, loneliness, and melancholy bubble underneath the surface.  I failed a test in one of my major science classes,  I have a paper summary due sometime next week, and two written assignments due in two days.  On top of all of that, as part of a pairs assignment in one of my classes, none of the "friends" signed up to be my partner.  And these are the same "friends" continuing on to graduate school with me.  As if that wasn't bad enough, I'd left my umbrella in my dorm and it poured rain today.
Trudging up the stairs of my dorm building, I open my door and slide my bag off my damp shoulders without moving inside.  A familiar tickle in my eyes, heaviness in my chest, and overall loss of warmth in my body almost starts overtaking me.
I don't want to be along right now, I think desperately, closing the door and practically sprinting down the hall, up another flight of stairs, and finding another room.  I don't care if it's not Tuesday or Friday, I can't be alone right now.
I slam the door open, thankful that he never bothers to lock it.  But I turn the bolt closed.
Shinsou jumps up in surprise.  He's sitting at his desk, textbooks and laptop open.  I would feel bad for intruding at a time like this, but I'm too far into my feelings to care about things like shame or decency.
"What's wrong?" he looks up at me as I rush over.
I don't respond, grabbing his arm and harshly yanking him out of his seat only to throw him onto his bed.  His eyes widen as I climb on top of him, one of my knees between his legs.  We haven't used this position, but I just don't care.  Once I collapse my head onto his chest, he audibly breathes out a sigh of relief and relaxes, settling one of his hands on top of my slightly dampened head and the other on my back.  "What happened?"
His warmth and fresh scent that normally calms me right down makes me silently sob into his chest.  I don't hold anything back from him; all my feelings ranging from my past mental health to my childhood quarrels with my parents to the existence of time being a curse for not being enough of it in a day burst from my lips messily.  I probably sound a mix of drunk and deranged.
Shinsou doesn't say a word, only alternating between stroking my wet hair and patting my back gently, even as I make a mess of his shirt.  "It's been a tough week, you deserve to rest before you even try to tackle it.  Those people aren't your friends, you don't owe them anything and you shouldn't expect anything from them either.  They don't deserve how great a person you are.  You're doing great, trust me. You're hardworking, friendly, trustworthy.  Anyone would know you're an absolute gem to be with."
His words evoke a shift in me.  This warmth is different from the emotional bursts I've felt before.  Hearing compliments from him hits differently.
And that's when it hit me.  I'm not just greedy for his cuddles, I want Shinsou as a person.  As my boyfriend.
My eyes snap open and I lift my head up.  I meet his confused stare.  "Do you...mean that?"
One of his eyebrows lift up.  "Of course.  You're amazing, why would I lie about that?"
I feel a slight rush of heat.  "Would you... Do you see me... in some other way?"
He blinks once before a tint of pink coats his cheeks.  "Well...maybe I do?  I didn't want to say anything about it, but since you're asking, I won't hide it from you."  The color saturates more.  "I like these cuddles and everything, but...sometimes I think I want more of you.  It's...we're already doing this whole thing together, it feels like we're already a couple."  His arms constrict around me.  "Sometimes, I want to hold you like this and call you...k-k-"  He coughs, embarrassed of his next word.  "Kitty."
My own face gets infinitely hotter as my stomach tumbles at his term of endearment.
"Y-You already nuzzle into me like one!" he adds defensively.  "It's not weird, I swear!"  I looks cute to see him all flustered like this.
I kiss his nose instinctively and he turns tomato red.  "I think it's really cute," I mumble.  "You can call me that if you want.  I'll be your kitty."
Shinsou seems like he's in a panic, arms frozen as they constrict around me.  "Wow... That sounds better than I thought it would," he mutters incredulously.
I chuckle.  "You said that out loud, Hitoshi."
One of his large hands cups my jaw and I nuzzle against it.  "My precious kitty."  It rolls off his tongue so naturally.  He presses a kiss on my forehead.  "I'll keep you happy with my cuddles."
I smile against his touch.  "Aren't you happy I showed you cuddling?  Aren't they great?"
"They're the best, especially with you, Kitty."
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lovieebby · 4 years
Text
Hard Night
Henry Cavill Oneshot/Drabble
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: fluff and a mention of henry’s package 👀
a/n: this is my first posting of ANYTHING I’ve written, hopefully y’all will like it! I couldn’t sleep last night so i thought i’d spit this out. & thank you @princess-of-riviaa & @viking-raider for reading this, your work is amazing and i love y’all. this was also typed and posted thru my phone so the formats all fucky, sorry
———————
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sleep comes and goes for you and it’s getting to a point where it worries him. when he rolled over in bed to snuggle you in close, he noticed you weren’t there. Henry cocked his eye brow up and patted your side of the bed. he opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder to his side table and squinted at the bright green lights of the clock and sighed. it was close to being 3am, your side had maybe a lingering of heat from you but he couldn’t tell.
“oh honey.” he whispered as he rolled completely over to open the blanket, he got out of bed, his knees popping as he stood.
he walked from the bedroom from the hallway when he had seen that you had lit your favorite candle, you had gotten it from a little store in town, saying that it smelt like the air when it was about to rain. next to the candle was a napkin filled with crumbs, guessing from your late night snack at the kitchen island. he trailed into the living room where there was a little glow from a light, which he was guessing the small lamp from the side table, and there you sat on your phone scrolling through god knows what.
your back was turned to him as you had his favorite blanket wrapped around your legs. Kal half way on you, half way off the couch, snoring loud enough where anyone could’ve thought he was an actual human.
clearing his throat, he asked, “what are you doing bug?” he rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the light.
you didn’t answer but Kal perked up so fast, seeing Henry, you had jolted in your spot with a gasp. you followed what the pup was staring at and took out your ear buds when you saw Henry. he lazily smiled at you.
he hadn’t realized you where zoned out in your own world, now he felt a little guilty, knowing maybe this was the only free time you had to relax.
“I’m sorry baby, did I wake you up?” you asked as you paused your music, sitting up straighter.
Oh (y/n), he thought, she looks so tired.
Henry sighed, but shook his head no. he saw the dark circles under your eyes. “No bug, you’re okay.” he smiled again, his voice still hoarse.
this was the third night in a row where you couldn’t sleep. you both had no idea what was causing the problem, maybe your anxiety, maybe your depression. your appetite wasn’t normal and your sleep comes and goes through out the night. you had told him you try to eat even when you weren’t hungry, and you had tried taking sleeping medicine to help, but it had made you more restless then normal, so you had stopped taking it.
“I moved to the living room so I wouldn’t wake you up from me moving around.” you sheepishly smiled. you hated waking him up, specially at this time. Hen’s been toning up again for another role he got, so he’s been in the gym and running so you knew he was tired and sore.
“No no baby, you’re okay, I had to get up soon anyway,” he kissed your cheek when he walked to the couch, patted Kal’s thigh to get him to scoot over so he could sit.
He put his legs up under the blanket with you and leaned on the other side of the arm rest, mimicking your position. he put his arm over the back of the couch and leaned his head on his bicep. he blinked up at you. you had worn one of his long sleeved tee shirts, with your cream colored cardigan.
you smiled at him, grabbing his hand in his lap and squeezed three times, i love you.
he squeezed back, i love you.
you could see the sleep written all over his face, he had sleep lines on his face, and under his arm from the bedding.
“did you get to sleep at all?” he asked, while stifling a yawn in the back of his hand.
you leaned your head on the couch, “i got maybe,” you scrunched up your face, thinking, “three hours?”
Henry chuckled and nodded slowly, well thats better than last night, he thought. “That’s better baby girl.”
“what where you listening to?” he asked, “the same ten songs on repeat?”
you chuckled and rolled your eyes, “yeah.”
he breathed in deep and looked out the window, hearing some of the critters outside, scurrying around. you had put out so many squirrel feeders in the backyard just so you and Kal could sit at the bay window and watch them run around, you naming off your favorites, when all Kal wanted to do was play with them, or eat them.
knowing that it was probably pretty close to the time he normally wakes up to get moving around for the day, he thought it would be a good idea to have you join him in his morning shower. maybe after getting fresh and clean you’ll feel a little better and feel relaxed enough to fall asleep. even if it’s just for a little while, its better than the little sleep you had already gotten. and maybe he can get you relaxed in other ways you both enjoyed doing.
“I need a shower, you want to join?” henry asked, looking back at you, wiggling his eyebrows, with a shit eating grin.
you laughed and nodded your head yes, “I don’t gotta be asked twice,” you said as you got up off the couch, excitedly grabbing his hand and pulling him off the couch.
“maybe after a hot shower, you’ll be able to sleep.” henry said to you, as you lead him to the bathroom.
you both walked into the bathroom, henry flicking on the light. releasing his hand, you walked to the shower to start the water, stripping yourself of your jammies, henry at his side of the bathroom counter, getting ready to brush his teeth. he peeked at you, you and all your curves, stretch marks, and all that you saw as imperfections, you where a goddess to him.
he loved every part of you, whatever you saw as imperfect, he loved even more. one of his main goals to make you believe that you where made just for him, if he could, he’d scream it to the world, praising you of your accomplishments, no matter how small. his baby was the light of his life and he wanted everyone to know.
he watched you bend over in the shower to feel the water and he groaned. seeing the curve of your ass and the way your back arched to adjust the hot water nob, made his brain fog of all the moments you’ve shared. knowing what you sound like, those little gasps, the way your skin feels under his hands, the way his name slipped from your puffy lips after sharing kisses and lingering nibbles from him.
he felt his cock swell, he looked down and pressed himself on the counter, thinking the pressure might help, but oh lord it didn’t. he breathed in a shaky breath, doing it again. his left hand gripping the handle of the toothbrush, while his right tightened on the marble counter top.
“i appreciate you hen.” you said sweetly, looking at him through the mirror, walking up to him and hugged him from behind. “you’re my best friend.”
he squeezed the counter top again, girl you mess me up, stop saying sweet things. he groaned internally.
he snapped out of his dirty thoughts, toothpaste foam on his lips, gone when he rinsed his mouth, putting the brush back in its cup with yours. “i appreciate you too bug,” he grabbed your hands and kissed both of them, smiling into her hands and nipping a little in the junction between her pointer finger and thumb.
“now get in the shower so i can dirty you up,” he smirked looking at you through the mirror as you peeked you head up over his shoulder, henry only able to see the top of your eyelashes. you giggled and released him, turning around.
like lightning, he spun around and smacked your ass, just a small tap. you gasped and giggled.
“okay okay, im movin’.” you said, opening the door to the shower, biting your lip secretly.
——————
a/n: give me your thoughts, feedback is always welcomed lovies 😘 & again i apologize if this format, theres only so much you can do on a phone.
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fullbusterfantasmic · 3 years
Text
Playing House 🏠
Short stories
Pairing: Gray x You
Rating: T
Warnings: Implied sexual content
I don't have to open my eyes to know I'm back in my own bed at home.
Last night when I stepped off the train a wave of relief swept through my exhausted haze. I’d only been gone for a week to help Lyon with that emergency mission in the mountains but it felt like a month. My limbs felt like led as I began the trek back to my apartment. I caught sight of the large clock in the center of magnolia station it read 2:30 a.m, I sigh in disappointment.
There's no way she'd be waiting up for me, she'd undoubtedly given up hours ago. I may be exhausted, but I could easily stay awake when the alternative was reuniting with her. Tomorrow; I’ll see her smile, hear her laugh, hold her in my arms, but I don’t want to wait until tomorrow I want to see her now. My footsteps are the only sound echoing through the sleeping cities streets.
As I turn onto my street I take my eyes off the cobblestones to glance up at my apartment in the distance, the light in my bedroom is on. My pace speeds up as my pulse increases, someone is sitting out on the steps of the building. They must have seen me approaching because they get to their feet. I knew it was her before her arms wound around me, before the taste of her lips graces my tongue.
“I missed you, im so glad you’re safe”
Clumsily I open the door, drop my bag on the floor, and I’m all too eager to keep her in my arms as I head towards the bedroom.
“I’m sure you’re exhausted, let’s go to bed…that can wait until tomorrow”
Laying her down I shake my head as I then cage her in beneath me, “Don’t want to wait till tomorrow”. She sighs blissfully as I kiss my way down her body.
“Neither did I”
Intent on pulling her close to me I reach out to find her side of the bed empty, my eyes open immediately. The bedroom door is open and I hear movement in the kitchen. That’s right it’s Sunday; Every Sunday she makes dinner for us and it’s always delicious. However; Whenever I’ve been gone for any length of time it always becomes much more elaborate.
Sure enough, I find her in the kitchen flitting back and forth. I silently admire her stirring, then seasoning, in nothing but one of my T-shirts. It’s only when she bends over to place one of the dishes in the oven that I let myself mutter appreciatively at the view of her backside. She lightly startles at this. Closing the oven door, she straightens back up and gives me a sultry grin over her shoulder.
She moves to set a timer that was sitting on the kitchen countertop. When she turns back around, I’m right behind her. Seizing the opportunity; I push her against the cabinets before crashing my lips down onto her's. Her hands slide up my chest and come to rest on my shoulders, as she lets out a contented “Hmmm” when I nip at her bottom lip before we part.
“Good morning Beautiful”
She raises an eyebrow, giving me a smirk before saying; “More like Good Evening sleepy head, it’s five minutes till five pm”.
She laughs at my undoubtedly shocked expression, but it turns into a gasp as I press my post sleep hard on (Because “Morning wood” just doesn’t apply in the evening right? Jesus XD) against her before hoisting her onto the countertop.
“Gray No!” she snaps, preventing my hands from spreading her legs apart and pushing me backwards.
“The timer says one hour, that’s plenty of time” I practically whine as she hops off the counter and begins to leave the kitchen. “I know” she replies as I begin to follow after her; Only to be stopped by the shirt she'd been wearing hitting me in the face.
“I just cleaned the kitchen though…So I thought, just maybe…you’d like to join me in the shower?”.
The implication of her question leaves no room for dispute and I eagerly follow after her. She’s sitting on the bathroom counter when I enter, beckoning me forward with a finger. I can’t help the huge smile that crosses my face as the door clicks shut behind me.
The sun had set some time before we emerge from the bathroom, leaving us to navigate toward the bedroom in pitch black darkness. No sooner had I switched on the bedroom light does a shrill ring sound from the kitchen.
“Dinners ready!”
“Okay Honey I’ll be right there!”
I move over to my dresser and as I’m opening the top drawer I remember; “Shit! I needed to do laundry before I left, I don’t have any clean-“ I pause. Looking down into the drawer, I see my boxers and gym shorts all clean and folded neatly. “That woman” I began to chuckle as I shake my head. I exit the room after pulling on a pair of gym shorts, and the doorbell rings. All movement within the kitchen ceases; To avoid the undoubtedly relentless teasing, we have yet to formally announce our relationship. Well that and the fact we both are the type that prefer to keep personal matters PERSONAL.
I don’t catch sight of her as I move to open the front door, I assume she just ducked down in the kitchen. I open the door; “Erza! Hey…what’s up?” I ask not bothering to hide my surprise. Titana surveys me with mild interest before responding. “Im glad to see you returned safely and in one piece, how did it go?” the red head’s eye is drawn over my shoulder as she cranes her neck in attempts to get a better view. I unconsciously shift my body sideways to block her line of sight from inside as I begin to give the requip mage a brief run down of what transpired during the job I’d assisted Lyon with.
Once my explanation has concluded, Erza gives a nod of understanding. I silently sigh in relief as I see her begin turning to leave, only to stop mid step and turn back towards me. “I almost forgot the main reason I came over here! The TWO of you need to meet the team and myself at the train station no later than 8:30 tomorrow morning, we'll be-“, I interrupt the requip mage “Huh? What do you mean the TWO of us?!”.
The scarlet haired woman clicks her tounge in annoyance before continuing; “Gone for at least three if not four days, but pack lightly we'll be doing a good amount of hiking, and make sure you have a tent for you two to sleep in as it may rain while we’re out there”. I regard her silently with a dumbfounded expression, she rolls her eyes, “Gray, I know ______ is in there with you, cut the crap”. My mouth falls open as I try to stammer out that she’s wrong, but I only succeed in making her laugh before flooring me with her next statement. “Everyone knows the two of you like to play “House” on Sundays”. She turns to leave for real this time, calling out “Bye ________, see you guys in the morning!” over her shoulder as she heads down the street.
Ten minutes later and I’m still standing dumbfounded in the doorway.
“Babe? Come inside, the food will end up cold”
The familiar voice brings me out of my confused contemplation. I head back inside and take a seat at the table, immediately a plate is set infront of me. Once she joins me I start eating, only pausing to compliment her “Its delicious as always, thank you babe”. A blush colors her cheeks as she flashes a dazzling smile at me before taking a bite herself. Dinner is finished in a comfortable silence as I attempt to build up some much needed courage.
It’s when she sets a bowl of my favorite Mint Chip Ice cream in front of me that I ask; “Isn’t your lease up next week?”. She looks at me curiously, “Yes, why do you ask?”. I take a deep breath before reaching out to clasp her hands within my own.
“Because I’m tired of playing house, I’m ready for us to really make this place a home”.
End
A/N: So there you have it the very first story to be posted here! I decided to start things off with some adorable, light hearted, fluff because I didn’t want to kick things off with the “HARD STUFF” and run the risk of scaring people off 😅😣 I have plenty of stories penned so I will slowly start rolling them out, but I still want those REQUESTS people so send em in! 💖
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snickiebear · 3 years
Note
yo nadia <3333 i'm bored in my online classes and u reblogged the questions thingy at the right time lmao, so get ready: 1, 4, 5, 9, 10, 17, 23, 24, 28, 30!!!, 34, 38, 39, 40 (the intimacy of being understood) (imma stop here lol) (also i'm sorry u're not feeling well, ily and hope u'll feel better soon!! <33333)
ELE ILY. (and thank you, i’m stayin home today cause,,, yeah. i appreciate you sm.) you’re the literal best, i adore you. 
1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?
The first fanfiction i read was for The Lunar Chronicles when I was like 11?? and it was 100% on accident and it scarred me because it was a hardcore porn one with a period kink and i was like WHAT IS THIS??? OH MY GOD???? LMAOOOOO i didn’t pick it back up until i was 13-14 and really got into the Fairy Tail fandom. I still reread my favorites on ff.net cause i love them. 
As for writing, I wrote a horrible, terrible x-men fanfiction when I was twelve. (my friend still brings it up and REFUSES to delete it so it still gets comments and views, that shit HAUNTS ME ELE.) then tried again for Fairy Tail, posted like two chapters before taking it down cause i wasn’t really feeling it. And then I posted The Intimacy Of Being Understood and here we are. 
4. Link your three favorite fics right now.
OMGG okok 
@murd3rm1ttens ‘s The Problem How Time Works IF YOU HAVENT READ THIS YOU GUYS NEED TO HOP ON IT ASAP. MITTEN’S WRITING SO SO SO SO GOOD. SAKURA AND INO ARE TOTAL BADASSES. KAKASHI IS A SIMPPPP. ITS SO FUCKING GOOD. 
@mouseymightymarvellous ‘s We Were Screaming In Color (Only A Possibility) yes, yes I KNOW. i always point into mousey’s direction but i WILL always advocate that everyone reads her fics, they’re literally so beautiful???? i just happen to be rereading WWSIN rn 
@safelycapricious ‘s Shaking Up And Breaking Down series. I found this like?? idfk but i’ve been raving about it ever since. ALSO CHECK OUT THEIR FICS IN GENERAL. 
fuck i have more than three but also check out @ambivalens999 ‘s Masks
i do wanna make a fic rec thing where i just rav about my favs,,, might do that later or sum
5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?
Omniscient third person. I don’t like it. Like I can understand that it can be a little hard to stay in one person’s perspective but, in my opinion, if you can, it shows how disciplined you are as a writer. Plus, i just get so confused when I go from A’s thoughts to suddenly what B is thinking about A. 
When writers use ‘ ‘ instead of “ “. When writers put thoughts in ‘ ‘ instead of just italicizing them. It’s small things but like they just bother me sO MUCH. most of the time i can ignore it and try to enjoy but other times i just dip. 
9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.
@espoir-et-reves !!!!! THEIR SHISAKU FICS ARE SO SO SO SO SO GOOD. And they have a warring states one going on THAT I AM SO OBSESSED WITH. 
@writer168 idk if they’re really “underrated” but THEY HAVE SUCH GREAT FICS ON AO3. Like theres an AU with sakura, kiba, and shino that i reread constantly because it just. is. so. fucking. GOOD. and they posted a new one that i’m YELLING about. 
@eggtoasties okay they only have 2 in the naruto fandom (one shisaku which is still ongoing) BUT THEIR WRITING STYLE IS SO NICE?? I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I still go back and reread their shikasaku one cause UGH i can’t get enough. I love it. 
10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?
Fandoms: Naruto, Soul Eater, The Old Guard, ATLA
Parings: KakaSaku/ShikaSaku/ShiSaku/MultiSaku, SoMa, Joe X Nicky, Zukka
Character: SAKURA. I will read anything with Sakura as the main character and her being a fuckin badass or becoming a badass. I love her.
17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?
aha.. haha.. well. I check my email like three times an hour. its the first thing i check in the mornings too. I’m literally a whore for praise and literally eat up feedback like its going out of style. I also reread a lot of my stuff because i make so many mistakes and spelling errors, or the spacing is weird oR SOMETHING. plus, literally any and all comments make my day, i go back and reread them cause they just make me feel so tingly and warm like “wow. this person enjoyed the fic/my writing enough to tell me. thats HUGE!”
23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?
Angry, feral, bloodied, morally gray women. They aren’t bad guys, they’re probably the good guy, but that doesn’t mean they cant be fucking raging at the world with raw knuckles and blood on their teeth. I just love an angry woman who struggles with her emotions and just has so much inner conflict but that doesn’t take away from her character or badassery, it adds to it. 
24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?
The fake dating or miscommunication troupe. LIKE GUYS JUST TALK. AND TELL EACH OTHER OMFG. the entire like obliviousness of “nah they dont like me” while the They holds their hand and kisses their cheek. MOFO WHAT. it makes me so impatient and like mad HAAHHAHA. its probably because i’m a pretty confrontational person so seeing stuff like that just “cmon bro, USE YO HEAD.”
28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?
I have yet to receive a negative comment! Which i was really surprised about tbh. As for deadlines or pressure to update, i just kind of do whatever. I do set goals, but i set them flexible enough that hey, if i can’t do it, that’s okay. 
I have a lot of mini goals, like “i want to write this chapter and get it done this week” and then the large goal is “FINISH BY END OF MAY” so i have time. 
Actually, now that I think on it, the entire pressure to update thing is probably why i’m waiting until I have all of OL&W written to post it weekly,, cause well. I wouldn’t wanna leave you guys waiting as I tried to write and work out the next chapters and stuff, you know?
30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.
AAAAAA YOU KNOW I LOVE THESE AHAHAHAH
Have you seen the way the dead dance, World Breaker? They roar, half mad and starving. Do you not wish, do you not hope to see them twist and bend and dance to your will?
Shikamaru snarls, looking behind his shoulders to where his Shadows lay. “Patience.” He spits. “Is of the essence, Things of Ancient. Know your place as the dark you are.”
34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?
None of my experiences match up to anything I write tbh,,, probably the only thing that is me in my writing is maybe the emotional turmoil? I’m pretty emotionally and mentally mature because from a pretty young age i started forming my own opinions, started looking into the world around us and being like “dude what the fuck this is not what disney advertised”. Then i started talking (read: arguing and debating) with my dad about a lot of it. So, like emotions are kind of hard for me. Like i’m pretty good at controlling them or understanding them, but still. idk its hard to explain ig.
Like the weight of stress, the anger, the sadness. It’s kind of therapeutic to write. Cause i don’t know how to put those feelings to verbal words so writing them really helps. 
As for my readers’ image? Probably like some kind of hunched over figure typing away in the dark with a maniacal grin on their face. I honestly don’t know AHHAHAHA but it is fun to think about. I think they’d see me as someone with potential but a lot of room to grow and someone who is imperfect but in a charming way LMAOOOO
38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?
I’m gonna be real honest. Its probably like a 2. I’m a bit of a control freak so I almost always go in chronological order, my writing is pretty linear. Unless, i get bored and jump to one of my fav parts. It's pretty much i sit down, i open the doc, read over my notes and just start writing. 
It’s a little boring to explain AHAHAHA but once i get into the groove of things its really fucking great, I can like feel myself in the world, I can feel what i want the characters to, i love it. I catch myself mouthing the words as i type too, which i find hilarious.
39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?
I rather like how raw my writing is sometimes. Which might sound really vain, but i do like the way i word things or describe things. I love juxtaposition and repetition, or making a good ole circle back to some minute detail that wouldn’t stand out until i repeat it at the end and you’re like “omg” AHAHAHAHA.
Like those little poetic snippets or certain wording i just sit back and go “damn thats kinda good nadia! go you!’ HAHAHA  
40. How did you come up with the idea for The Intimacy Of Being Understood?
AAAAA this fic is like my first child, my pride and joy LMAO
so the idea initially came when i was reading some fic, idk if it was even naruto, but i was like “i don't like this, but i do like the rain symbolism.” And I knew i wanted to write something kind of slow paced, something a little sad and angsty, but would show KakaSaku slowly but surely falling in love.
Idk if you’ve noticed but a lot of my fics, the pairings don’t change each other dramatically. They accept each other as they are and then they grow with together. Like that acceptance is something i just love writing, its so subtle, it isn’t something you declare. Its simply “I am going to love you. I am going to love you despite your flaws and faults. I am going to love you unconditionally because I know you, I understand you, and there is nothing you could do to drive me away.” 
The fic kind of wrote itself after that first scene. I kept going back to the rain, go being ghosts, and resurrection, and the small epiphanies one gets. I wanted to focus on each character’s growth with each other. They didn’t find light in life because of each other, but with each other. And i think that’s my favorite thing about that fic. 
I wanted something raw and real and just something beautiful. I’m actually really proud of it tbh. Would i go back and rewrite/edit it? Oh of course! I’d do that with every single one of my fics, but i’m not gonna cause i think its in its rawest form right now. :))))
ask me shit plz
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pa-panda-heroes · 4 years
Text
The “Two” of Us ; Bakugou x Reader Songfic
An anoni requested this a while back, and now here we are ^v^ I was really nervous about it, but @queensynderella was so kind as to beta read this for me! Many, many thanks to you, Allie! Sincerely! I literally wouldn’t have posted it otherwise because I was so nervous OTL
Warning: Slight language (Kacchan swears like twice), kinda sorta sad/angsty but kinda sorta fluffy!
Song: “Two” by Sleeping at Last
Edit because i’m a silly bean and forgot word count: 1,671 words
Sweetheart, you look a little tired
You could faintly hear the sound of rain pattering against your windows, flicking through the channels on TV and trying to find something to watch. Even shows you’d normally enjoy weren’t appealing. You’d pick up your phone and try to find entertainment on it if it weren’t for the articles strewn everywhere about Bakugou Katsuki, the pro hero with an infamous temper and a volatile quirk. You knew him as something entirely different. Someone you could go to for a good cry, or someone who could cheer you up by just being around. He was also someone who had his own feelings, too. It wasn’t uncommon, as a hero, for him to feel down and unappreciated for the things he does, the things he sacrifices for the public. 
Lighting struck and thunder soon followed, and while the sudden boom gave your heart and body a fright, it was probably the twelfth  time you’d heard it in the past hour. Needless to say, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about it. Although, you did hope not to lose power.
A knock at your door nearly made you jump out of your skin, though, and you jumped up to go answer it. The knock had been loud but... weak somehow. 
When did you last eat? Come in and call yourself right at home Stay as long as you need
You looked through the peephole and instantly your fingers were fumbling with the locks and doorknob to let the unexpected visitor in, your brows furrowing out of concern all the while. As soon as the door is open, he lets himself in without a word. 
Tell me, is something wrong? If something’s wrong, you can count on me You know I’ll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat
“Katsuki, are you alright?” you ask, watching him kick off his shoes. He pauses at your question for probably a second or two, then shrugs. 
“I’ll be fine. Long day at work, ya know?”
It’s okay if you can’t find the words Let me take your coat And this weight on your shoulders
He begins to shrug off his coat, but you jump in and help him, taking it and hanging it on the rack as he makes his way to your living area. You knew damn good and well that “I’ll be fine” meant “I’m not fine right now, but I don’t want to worry you because I just want it to pass.” It was better than when he would cover and say he’s fine, which was initially a bad habit you lectured him on who knows how many times. You eventually got him to be more honest up front. You wanted to help him, give him everything, but he wouldn’t let you.
You follow him to the couch and sit next to his left as he picks up your new habit of flicking through channels mindlessly. You sit close to him and wrap your arm around his while resting your cheek on his shoulder, but he doesn’t react. 
Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every single thing I have
You considered pushing him into the shower while you ran a hot bath for him, or possibly getting food for him to eat, be it home cooked or take-out. But you knew he wouldn’t be quick to accept being coddled or spoiled. 
Like a tidal wave, I’ll make a mess Or calm waters, if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached
He stopped at a news channel - at least it looked like one, until you read the phrase “Bakugou Katsuki. Pro Hero name: Ground Zero. Ill-Tempered Hero, or Soon-To-Be-Villain?” A lump developed in your throat and you felt him tense before the TV screen went black. 
“They did this shit in high school, and they just don’t wanna let it go. Assholes!” he hissed, setting the remote down on the coffee table roughly. “So what if I yell sometimes? Yeah, I get mad. Who doesn’t!”
Ah, that must be it. Articles, headlines, and gossip like that had suddenly began circulating recently, but despite that you hoped he’d ignore it or wouldn’t happen to see. Apparently he has. 
“What they say doesn’t matter,” you say, not matching his volume yet voice remaining firm, “You know why? They’re only looking for a good headline and online attention. It’s all money, no matter who they have to degrade.”
It’s okay if you can’t catch your breath You can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest.
Katsuki finally looked at you, and you sat upright to give him a gentle grin. It had crossed his mind countless times whether or not they’d brought you into their little mess, or if they had harassed you with interview requests. He knew undoubtedly that it bothered you, too, being his lover. You were right - what they said didn’t matter much - albeit it was extremely frustrating - but that did. Katsuki knew by your texts throughout the day that something was off-centre about you.
I know exactly how the rule goes Put my mask on first No, I don’t want to talk about myself 
But you’d put his feelings first. You were always griping at him about his feelings, yet you put yours on the back burner for him.
Tell me where it hurts I just want to build you up, build you up ‘Til you’re good as new One day I will get around to fixing myself, too
The pro hero before you leaned in to give a tiny, almost shy kiss to your forehead before resting his hand on the back of your neck to pull you in further. His chin rested atop your head, his hand remaining on your nape still. “Hey, tell me. And be honest. It bothers you, doesn’t it?” he queried hoarsely. ‘Tell me where it hurts,’ he thought.
“I’d be lying if I said no, obviously.” You fumbled with your thumbs, trying to find the right words, while he leaned back to look you in the eyes. “It bothers me that they paint you as a demonic hero or villain in-the-making, because I know you’re neither of those things. But at the same time, it doesn’t bother me because I know you’re not like that. Does that make sense? I don’t think it-“
He interrupted you with an uncharacteristically sweet and calm kiss, albeit a short one, and then pulled back with a minuscule appreciative grin. “I get it, idiot.”
“Okay, I wasn’t done!” you protest, wriggling your nose. “It doesn’t bother me that much because I also know that you’re constantly putting yourself at risk and endangering your life. And for civilians who are sometimes quicker to be afraid of you than they are to thank you, at that.”
Katsuki’s face drops and he’s quick to look away, but you run your fingers through his spiky hair anyway as he lets you go on. 
“I know heroes get a lot of publicity and fan clubs, but they don’t seem to care about the hero’s mental and physical well-being very often,” you continue. “Not many take the hero’s feelings into consideration, which is why articles and whatnot trashing them are frustrating.”
The look on his face hasn’t changed from downtrodden much, and for a second you think you’re making him feel worse. Because he knows you’re right. Being a hero can be thankless work sometimes. 
I don’t even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself
“I’m telling you this because I do,” you say, your voice almost a whisper and breathy. “I know you better than anyone, and I know you’re human just like the rest of us, with human emotions. I know you didn’t become a hero just to get praise and attention.”
He finally looks back at you, and you smile wide, letting the gesture and the fond look in your eyes emphasize what you’ll say next. But you won’t say anything before your hand is dotingly caressing his cheek, your thumb grazing his cheekbone. “I know you’ll do whatever you can to save someone, and above all that, I know I love you so much.”
It’s almost as if your mere words blew the weight off his shoulders when they sink and his posture relaxes. “Thank you,” seems to be all he can bring himself to say.
Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you without any strings attached And what a privilege it is to love A great honor to hold you up
Katsuki shakes his head, clearly not at you, and shows you a soft, almost barely there smile. “I love you...
“Idiot.”
“Hey!” You slap his arm at the “insult,” and he chuckles at the contact.
Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss
The two of you just sat there, listening to the rain and thunder and ignoring the bright flashes of light coming through the window. All that exists in the world, in this moment, is you and Katsuki. The two of you as one.
I will love you with every single thing I have Like a tidal wave, I’ll make a mess
Katsuki brings you close to his chest, a slight warmth emanating off his body.
Or calm waters, if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached
You accept and reciprocate the embrace without hesitation, sighing into his shirt. 
“I’m always gonna love you, no matter what. Got that, Kacchan?”
I will love you without any strings attached
“I do, as long as you know that I’m always gonna love you, y/n.”
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pikapeppa · 4 years
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Felassan/f!Lavellan: Special
Chapter 15 of The Love That Grows From Violence (Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is up on AO3!
In which I make use of a favourite trope shut up I don’t overuse this: sparring-to-sex. Well, almost sex.
~6500 words; read on AO3 instead. 
********************
Felassan sighed as he cut a slice of breakfast casserole for Tamaris. “Does it usually rain this much in Kirkwall?”
“You asked me that yesterday,” she reminded him.
He made a little grimace. “I did, didn’t I? Fenedhis, I’m getting boring, talking about the rain.” He placed a steaming piece of casserole on her plate and started cutting one for himself, and she eyed him sympathetically. 
It had been pouring rain for the past three days straight, with little reprieve. Even when the rain lessened to a drizzle rather than a sheeting downpour, it hadn’t been light enough for them to eat their meals on the roof or even smoke a joint, and Felassan seemed to be having a hard time with the weather-imposed indoors time. 
“You’re not boring, you’re bored,” she said. “There’s a big difference.” She took a bite of her breakfast. The casserole he’d made was like a savoury bread pudding, packed with roasted mushrooms and sausage and seasoned with rosemary, and as always with Felassan’s cooking, she savoured the melding of flavours on her tongue before swallowing. 
Felassan chuckled. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not bored. How could I be bored with such charming company?”
She rolled her eyes in amusement. “Okay, not bored, then. You’re having cabin fever. We’ll spend the whole day on the roof as soon as the rain stops.”
“That’s a pleasant thought,” he said. “I wonder if I’m able yet to cast the spell that’ll protect us from sunburn?”
She looked up with interest. “There’s a spell for that?”
“There is, yes,” he said. “It’s a subtle kind of sustained barrier. There’s a similar one for repelling rain, as well.” He sat beside her and picked up his fork. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to cast that spell right now.”
He was smiling, but the way he was talking about the rain was starting to worry her. He had been acting more restless and fidgety as the rainy days went on, but she hadn’t realized that he felt this strongly about being cooped up indoors. 
“Do you want to practice that rain-repelling spell after breakfast instead of sparring with me?” she asked. 
“Absolutely not,” he said immediately. “And miss the chance to make you sweat? Never.”
She scoffed at his wicked smile. A provocative reply was sitting right at the tip of her tongue, and she debated with herself before finally deciding to say it. 
“There are other ways of making me sweat, you know,” she said.
His face lit up with interest. “I’m very well aware, avise. Are you offering to let me exercise some of them?”
She smirked and toyed idly with her fork. “Maybe,” she said. In truth, the past three days had been difficult for Tamaris as well, for different reasons. Felassan’s increasing impatience with the weather was translating into their carnal clinches in a way that she was finding especially arousing. His kisses were more urgent than usual and his fingers more eager as they explored her body through her clothes, and his breathing was more growly and desperate as it ghosted across her ear. It was making it harder for her to resist him, and yesterday she had very nearly begged him to fuck her while they were grinding together on the library floor. 
Yet somehow she’d resisted, keeping the desperate plea to herself instead of letting it loose. And late last night as she lay in bed, after bringing herself to a somewhat unsatisfying climax while thinking about Felassan’s blazing violet eyes, she started to realize why she, at least, was delaying the sex that they both so obviously wanted. 
The reason was this: Tamaris wasn’t good at words the way Felassan was. She was only just getting used to telling him the more sensitive parts of her past, and she still had a particularly hard time telling him how she felt about him, especially as her feelings continued to bloom in his warm and playful presence. He was just… 
There was just something about him that was so special. Tamaris had never had a companion she enjoyed spending this much time around. She liked her friends from the Inquisition, of course, and she had long grown accustomed to spending extended periods of time around each of them, but that didn’t mean she’d always enjoyed all the enforced togetherness. 
In contrast, she had always enjoyed being around Solas – when he wasn’t angry, at least. But to be bluntly honest, being with Solas had never been all that fun. Intellectually stimulating, yes. Physically stimulating, absolutely. But fun? Not particularly, or not often. Not that that was Solas’s fault by any means; Tamaris was hardly a barrel of laughs herself, and her relationship with Solas had always been more about shared understanding than shared laughter. 
But when Tamaris was with Felassan… 
No one made her laugh the way Felassan did. She’d never connected so quickly with anyone the way she had with Felassan. She’d never had anyone else that she so enjoyed just sitting around and talking with – just talking about everything and nothing, teasing each other and making stupid clever remarks. He was smart and sharp and thoughtful and funny, and… He was special. He was special to her — more special than she had the words or the courage to admit. 
So somewhere in her weird and wounded mind, Tamaris was starting to think that if she delayed the sex until the time was a little more… well, special than their usual post-training necking, then maybe he’d understand how she felt about him without her having to find the balls to say it. 
It was a convoluted idea, and she was of half a mind to just tell Felassan that this was why she hadn’t yet asked him to fuck her again. But that would involve telling him in detail how she felt, and she just… her heart still quailed at the thought of putting so much on the line just yet.  
Felassan was still smiling wickedly at her. She smiled back awkwardly and dropped her gaze to her plate. 
He chuckled and picked up his fork. “Well, anytime you want me to make you sweat, all you have to do is say the word.” 
She took another bite of her food and mumbled something indistinct, both grateful for his lack of pressure and annoyed at herself in equal measure. They spent the rest of the meal discussing Varric and Cassandra and the fact that Varric had written a sequel to Swords and Shields just for her, and by the time Tamaris was washing the dishes, Felassan had come to the conclusion that Varric and Cassandra were secretly in love and had simply failed to admit their feelings to each other. 
Tamaris shook her head. “No. It’s not possible.”
“Not possible?” Felassan said. “That’s a strong statement from someone who’s seen the range of bizarre things that you have.”
She snorted a laugh at this. “Okay, maybe not impossible, but really unlikely.”
He leaned against the counter beside her and folded his arms. “Explain.”
She rinsed a plate and propped it in the dish drainer. “Honestly, the main reason is that Varric is…” She paused before she could tell him about Varric and Bianca. For all that Varric was good at coaxing out people’s secrets, he was a very private person himself. It wasn’t Tamaris’s place to tell Felassan about his affair with Bianca. 
“He’s not interested in having a relationship,” she said finally.
“Because of Bianca?” Felassan said.
Tamaris’s jaw dropped. “How — how do you know about her?”
He grinned. “I don’t. Or I didn’t, until you just confirmed it now.”
She gaped at him. “Wha— but where — how did you know to ask about that?”
“The crossbow named Bianca,” Felassan said. “He mentions it in This Shit Is Weird. It had to be named after someone important.” He shrugged casually. “People don’t usually name their favoured weapons after random strangers, after all.”
Tamaris stared at him for another second, then closed her mouth and started washing another pan. Felassan titled his head curiously. “What’s the story there, then?” he asked. “Not unrequited love; that fades eventually with nothing to supply it. A wife who passed away, perhaps?”
Tamaris pursed her lips, and Felassan nodded. “Ah. Something that’s still ongoing, then. An affair that never petered out, probably. That would make a great deal of sense.” 
She smacked him with her soapy sponge. “Stop that! Stop being a spy at me!”
He flinched away from her sponge and laughed. “I can’t help it, avise. It’s in my nature. But if it makes you feel better, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
She scowled at his shit-eating grin, then went back to scrubbing the pan with more vigour. “Well, don’t go talking to Varric about it. He’ll think I told you.”
“My lips are sealed,” he said. “But really, there is immense potential for a relationship between Varric and Cassandra. She loves romance, he wrote her a romance novel, they exchange letters frequently…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You should invite her to come stay here. We could invite Varric over for dinner, then sit back and watch how things play out. It would be immensely entertaining.”
Tamaris couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You are not going to play matchmaker for Varric and Cassandra.”
“Why not?” he said with a grin. “You don’t think I could?”
She tsked. “That’s not the point,” she said. Then she turned to face him and propped one fist on her hip. “Look, what makes you think you’re such an expert on love, anyway?”
“I know a great deal about love,” he said complacently. “I’m a great observer of it, after all.”
She wrinkled her nose and started drying the dishes with a towel. “Are you telling me you’re a secret pervert who watches through people’s windows or something?”
He let out a lovely rolling laugh. “No, felasil’ain. I was a spy, remember, and a very good one. And secrets of the heart are the easiest to exploit.”
She went still at this. “What do you mean?”
“Some of the most important information a spy can collect is the bonds between people,” he said. “Who is married or partnered to whom, who is sleeping with whom, how people are related, who has children and who they have children with…” He shrugged and folded his arms once more. “If you know who a person loves, you know their greatest weaknesses.”
She stared at him. A cold sort of ache was stealing through her chest. “Is that really how you feel?”
“It’s not how I feel. It’s the simple truth,” he said. He raised an eyebrow. “Your spymaster must have told you this if she is worth her salt.”
“I mean, I guess she did,” Tamaris said blankly. “But that’s Leliana. She’s… terrifying in a quiet kind of way.”
He widened his eyes. “And I’m not? That hurts.”
She didn’t laugh. She stared at him in bemusement, and he gave her a little half-smile. “Go on, speak your mind. I can take it.”
She shook her head slightly. “I just… How are you not more cynical?”
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
She put the towel on the counter. “If you spent years and years exploiting people’s relationships as weaknesses, how are you so…” How are you so open to falling in love with me? she wondered, but she couldn’t quite get the words out. 
She didn’t need to, however; Felassan’s expression softened slightly, like he understood what she was trying to say. “Just because a relationship can be exploited doesn’t mean the relationship is unhealthy or tawdry,” he said. “Some of the most easily exploited bonds are the ones that are most true. No one is more easily manipulated than a person who truly loves another.” 
She stared at him, struck dumb by the cold brutality of his words. He gave her a half-smile and took over drying the dishes. “Try not to disdain me too much, avise. I’ve done many things in the service of a better world, and I don’t regret them. This is just one of many.”
She studied him for a moment longer, then suddenly hugged him around the waist.
He stiffened with surprise for a second, then carefully draped his arm around her. “What’s this for?” he said softly. “Not that I’m complaining.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” she mumbled. “That sounds… it sounds fucking awful.”
He squeezed her shoulder soothingly. “You have no need to feel sorry for me. Nothing I did as a spy for Fen’Harel was against my will. Against my better judgment at times, perhaps, but never against my will.” He shrugged. “Some things need to be burned down. Some of the most beautiful flowers are those that grow from the ashes that which has burnt away.”
She pressed her lips together. Her throat was thickening with tears for some reason, and she couldn’t decide whether they were for Felassan or for the world he’d lost, or for the simple fact that she could understand his point, horrible though it was.
She held him tightly for a moment longer, then abruptly released him and started to leave the kitchen. “I’ll be in the library. When you’re—”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. “Tamaris.”
He was gazing at her very intensely, and she swallowed hard before speaking. “Yeah?”
“There are some things I would never exploit,” he said.
She frowned slightly. “What do you…” She trailed off with a jolt. He meant… did he mean her?
Her eyes widened. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he would try to use her feelings against her. “I know that,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t… I know.” 
“Do you?” he said quietly. But she knew what he really meant. Did she believe it? 
“Yes, I… I do,” she said. And to her great surprise, she actually did.
They stared at each other for a moment longer. Then Felassan smiled and released her hand. “I’ll see you in the library when I’m done with these,” he said.
Tamaris nodded, then went to the library and sat on the rug. For a minute she just sat there staring vacantly at the bookshelves, stunned by the fact that she hadn’t even thought of the possibility that Felassan would use her feelings for him as leverage. What did that mean, that she hadn’t thought of it? Did it mean she was being stupid and incautious by having feelings for him? If a master spy told her that love was a weakness, then she should probably listen, shouldn’t she?
Or did her lack of suspicion just mean that she was on her way to being cured of the wound that Solas had dealt her? 
A few minutes later, Felassan padded into the library with a smile. “Ready to fight?” 
She looked up, then nodded and rose to her feet. As always, they started with a little warm-up where both of them practiced casting some barriers, then moved onto Felassan throwing ice at Tamaris’s barriers to practice his attack strength. By the time they were warmed up and ready to really start sparring, Tamaris already had a light sheen of sweat along her hairline and the back of her neck.
She wiped her brow, and Felassan smiled. “I told you I would make you sweat.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I always sweat when we do this. Besides, you’re sweating too.” 
He shot her a roguish grin, then twisted his wrist and produced a small swirling cloud of ice that hovered over his palm. “Ready?” 
She nodded and pulled a practice dagger — also known as a golden dinner knife — from the back of her belt. “Go,” she said.
He flicked his wrist and threw the ice at her. She rolled toward him to dodge it and narrowly dodged another iceball, then brought the knife toward Felassan’s thigh. 
The knife glanced off of his barrier — a barrier he’d quickly raised a mere second before her strike. By the time she had the knife drawn back once more to strike, he had skipped a couple of meters away from her, and another ball of ice was glittering over his open palm. 
She exhaled sharply and cast a barrier, then rushed him at the same moment that he threw the ice. A second later, she was trying to push the knife toward his neck while his ice-encrusted hand gripped her wrist to hold her back.
She gritted her teeth and tried to withstand the cold, but it was too much; she finally gasped in pain and dropped the knife, and Felassan released his breath in a heavy sigh. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded and idly rubbed her chilled wrist, then shot him a wry smile. “If I’d come at you with my left hand, you’d be a dead man.”
“Are you holding back on me, then?” he asked. “Come at me with that lovely metal hand. Don’t be shy.”
She shrugged and picked up the knife in her left hand. “Fine. Just remember you asked for it.” She twirled the knife over her metal fingers, then rushed him suddenly. 
Felassan lashed out with a sustained blast of ice, but Tamaris repelled it with her barrier and brought the knife toward his belly in a swift strike, and they both froze; her knife was pressed against his abs, but his frozen hand was wrapped around her throat.
She stopped breathing. Her eyes darted up to his face, and his frozen hand instantly warmed back to a normal temperature. But he didn’t let her go, and she didn’t step away.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
He sounded slightly breathless, and his chest was rising and falling heavily. She swallowed hard. “I’ll tell you if you hurt me,” she panted. “Otherwise, you can assume I’m fine.”
“Good,” he said. His thumb drifted slowly along the edge of her jaw.
A ripple of heat bloomed low in her belly, and she gasped. Then she stepped away from him. “Ready?” she breathed.
He smiled at her — a slow and rather predatory smile. “Always.”
She grinned at him, and they continued to spar for a while longer. They were quite well-matched, considering that they were both training outside of their comfort zones: Felassan would usually have shirked close-quarters combat, and Tamaris would usually have stuck to stealth tactics that would prevent her from being a target of magical attacks. As a consequence, their sparring sessions were both challenging and satisfying. Aside from the obvious benefit of getting Felassan to practice his magical control while Tamaris boosted her barriers, they were both practicing forms of combat that neither of them was particularly well-versed in, and Tamaris was certain that the practice would do them good in the future. 
Twenty minutes later, both of them were sweating and panting for breath, and Tamaris had bested Felassan just over half of the time. They took a brief break to drink some water, and Tamaris admired the sheen of sweat on Felassan’s collarbones and the notch at the base of his throat while he gulped down a goblet of water.
He lowered the goblet and looked at her, and a knowing smile turned up the corners of his lips. Before he could call her out for staring, she hastily spoke. “I think you should start practicing other kinds of attacks soon,” she said. “Fire or lightning.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“You have to do it eventually,” she reasoned. “If anything goes up in flames, you can just put it out with ice.”
His eyebrows creased. “I’m more concerned about injuring you inadvertently.”
She shrugged. “I can heal minor wounds, no problem. Besides, don’t you have that extra-potent royal elfroot salve for heavy-duty wounds and burns?”
He huffed in amusement. “I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to use it on you.”
She titled her head playfully. “You’re insulting me by assuming you’ll actually land a hit.”
He grinned at her, then shrugged and put the goblet down. “We can’t have that. Fine, you win. I’ll start practicing with the fire and lightning tomorrow. Are you ready to continue with the ice for now?” He pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, and Tamaris openly stared at the cut lines of his abs. 
He dropped his shirt back into place, then tilted his head. “Tamaris,” he said drolly.
She snapped her eyes up to his face. “What?” she said defensively.
He sauntered toward her in an annoyingly confident way. “Irritable,” he remarked. “You must be horny.”
“You are,” she retorted, very cleverly. She pulled the dinner knife from her belt and twirled it over the fingers of her real hand. 
He chuckled and reached for her chin. Tamaris knocked his hand away with her prosthetic hand and brought the knife up toward his throat.
To her surprise, he swiftly brought his other hand up and blocked her strike, then grabbed her right wrist and pulled her closer. Caught off-guard and off-balance, she stumbled into his chest.
She braced her metal hand against his abs, and he stroked her chin with his thumb. “I never said I wasn’t,” he murmured. 
She stared up at him, breathless with desire and snared by the brilliant heat in his eyes. He smelled so good, like sleep and soap and the sweet masculine musk of sweat, and his lips were a breath away from hers, and… fuck, he wasn’t wrong. She was terribly horny. 
But they’d only been training for less than an hour. They usually went for at least two hours before taking a break to do… other things. Very reluctantly, she stepped away from him. “Come on, we can go a little longer—”
He pulled her back against his chest and kissed her, and her lips instantly melted open for him with a little whimper of pleasure and surprise. His arm was curled tightly around her waist to hold her close, and Tamaris moaned into his lips as the hard ridge of his erection pressed into her belly through their clothes.
He released her wrist to cradle her neck instead, and Tamaris blissfully melted into him. A few seconds later, however, he froze.
He smiled slowly against her lips. “You fight dirty.”
Sure enough, she had the dinner knife pressed to his belly. “You started it,” she whispered. 
His smile widened, and he loosened his arm around her waist so she could step away. “All right,” he said. “I understand the rules now.”
“Oh really?” she said playfully. “What rules are those?”
“There aren’t any,” he said, and he grabbed for her. 
She dodged away from him and barked out a laugh. “Felassan! We need to train!”
“We are training,” he said, and he conjured another ball of ice. “But you’d better not let me catch you if you want to keep this up.” 
Suddenly, the game was twisted on its head: Felassan was the one in pursuit while Tamaris tried to repel his attacks and keep him at a distance. She managed to keep him back for a good ten minutes, but her lack of stamina for barriers was ultimately her downfall; Felassan hit her shoulder with a small blast of ice, and she stumbled and fell onto her butt with an oomph.
An instant later, he was on his knees in front of her and tenderly smoothing his hand along her arm. “Fenedhis. Are you hurt? Is it—?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she panted. “It’s nothing.”
He smoothed his palm over her shoulder and cradled her neck in his palm. “Are you sure?”
“I — yes, I’m sure,” she said breathlessly. He was so close to her now, but everything about him was just making her want him even closer. The warmth of his palm on her sweat-laced neck and the intensity of his violet eyes, and gods, the smell of his skin… 
She licked her lips, and Felassan’s face lifted into a heated smile. “I think this means I won this round,” he said. 
She scoffed. “Uh-huh. Are you going to gloat about it now?” 
“Not at all,” he said. “But now that I struck you down...” He shifted closer on his knees and brushed his thumb along the tendon in her neck. 
A shiver of pleasure ran down the side of her throat. She lifted her chin to grant him easier access to her neck, and he chuckled. “Should I accept this as your willing surrender?” he asked.
“You talk too much,” she complained breathily. Then she gasped as his lips brushed over the side of her neck. 
He kissed her neck very gently, soft open-mouthed kisses with just a hint of tongue, and Tamaris abruptly gave up pretending that she had any lingering interest in sparring. She grabbed his shirt and pulled, wanting him to kiss her neck with more teeth and tongue and pressure, but he continued the torturously gentle tease of his mouth along the side of her throat.
“Felassan,” she whined. 
“Yes, Tamaris?” he murmured. He lapped at her neck with tiny teasing flicks of his tongue, then grazed her neck very gently with his teeth.
She panted and tugged at his shirt. “More,” she said bluntly. 
He chuckled, then slid his hand over her waist and pulled on her hip. “Come here, then.”
She hastily followed the pull of his hand, and a second later she was straddling him. She tilted her hips down to try and meet the hardness between his legs while also craning her neck to the side so he would kiss her neck some more, and Felassan obliged her with a firm open-mouthed kiss against the side of her throat. His hands were roaming firmly over her body, his fingers sliding over her thighs and hips and up inside the back of her shirt to clench against her shoulder blades, and Tamaris twisted her fingers in his shirt and stroked his neck as he lavished her neck with kisses.
He nipped her neck, then started sucking on her sweat-laced skin, and she burst out a little cry at the pressure of his mouth. “Yes,” she gasped, and she twisted her hips down to rub more firmly against his groin.
He lifted his face with a gasp, then groaned and bucked his hips to meet her, and then they were moving together in an uncoordinated and torturous bump-and-grind as they tried to find some satisfaction through their clothes. 
Felassan’s arm was like a steel band around her waist, and his breath was hot against her sternum. He braced himself with one hand on the floor to try and lift himself more firmly against her, but a second later he burst out a frustrated groan. 
“Ar isala mithelma,” he moaned. He licked her collarbone, and Tamaris gasped and clenched her fingers against his neck; he was pulling at the neckline of her shirt and licking the skin below her collarbone now, and his mouth was close enough to the upper swell of her breast that it was forcing a dizzying surge of anticipation to pool between her legs.
He moaned again and lowered his face to nuzzle her breast through her shirt, and Tamaris made a snap decision: she abruptly shifted away from him.
He looked up at her in surprise. “What’s wr–?” Then he broke off with a gasp: Tamaris was straddling one of his legs now instead of his lap, and she was pulling eagerly at the button fly of his loose breeches. 
His eyes flicked feverishly from her face to her hands and back, and another dizzying pulse of want bloomed low in her belly; his eyes were glowing faintly with magic now. He squeezed her arm. “Tamaris,” he panted. “Are you–”
“No, no,” she said hastily as she pulled on his fly. “I don’t – I’m not going to fuck you. I just want to…” She trailed off distractedly and stared at his cock; it was a hard rise thrusting eagerly up from the opening in his breeches, and there was a bead of moisture at the tip.
She smoothed her thumb over the head of his cock and sucked his primal flavour off of her thumb, and Felassan eagerly bucked his hips. “You are going to be the end of me,” he groaned.
She smiled at him, but she couldn't think of a clever reply; she was too distracted by how beautiful he was, and it wasn't just his good looks that she was admiring. It was how obviously desperate he was. His face was twisted with desire, his eyes glowing and his ears flushed pink and his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. He was so desperate, desperate her despite her twisted wounds, and these three days of rain-imposed confinement had been so hard on him, and she just… he was so fucking special, and Tamaris wanted to make him feel good.
She wrapped her fist around his cock and squeezed, and Felassan made the most wonderful guttural sound of pleasure. Encouraged by his enjoyment, she stroked his cock for a moment, then quickly spat into her palm and continued stroking him more smoothly.
He moaned and twined his fingers in the hair at her nape, then pulled her close for a kiss, and Tamaris eagerly accepted the twisting warmth of his tongue as she stroked his cock. In a matter of short minutes, he was shifting restlessly beneath her and the thick length of his shaft was growing even stiffer beneath her palm, and when he broke their kiss to breathe erratically against her lips, she knew he was close. 
“Do you want to come in my mouth?” she asked.
To her mild surprise, he shook his head. “No,” he breathed. “No, kiss me. Tamaris, kiss me, ah–”
She kissed him hard. An instant later, he was clasping her neck and her hair in both hands and moaning uninhibitedly into her mouth as his seed spurted hotly over her hand. 
She delved her tongue into his mouth and squeezed his pulsing cock. He shuddered beneath her and dragged both of his hands through her hair, and the firm feel of his fingers on her scalp sent an icy-hot wave of pleasure from the crown of her head down the back of her neck. 
They kissed hungrily until his shuddering grew still. Then Tamaris gently broke their kiss and glanced down at his crotch. 
She winced at the mess; his climax was most evident on his shirt and breeches, but a little bit had spattered the hem of her shirt as well. 
“Fuck. Guess we’ll need to do laundry,” she said. She wiped her hand on his shirt and started shifting off of his leg.
He banded his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Laundry?” he said. “You’re thinking about laundry right now?”
His voice was husky with pleasure and even more vibrant with laughter. She smiled and patted his shoulders. “Yep. I’m thinking about laundry,” she teased. “Do you want to help me with it, or–”
He slid his fingers under the hem of her shirt to splay on her belly, and she broke off with a gasp. His fingers were moving steadily up over her ribs, and when his thumb brushed over the cup of her bra, she mewled and dug her fingers into his shoulders. 
He chuckled softly. “What I want, avise, is to reciprocate. If you’ll allow it.”
She curled her hips toward him. “Y-you don’t have to,” she stammered. “That’s not why I…” She trailed off distractedly as his fingers slipped back down over her belly to hook into the drawstring waistband of her pants.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to,” he murmured. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I deeply enjoy watching you squirm.”
She burst out a breathless little laugh. “Smug asshole.”
“I’ll allow your insult since you made me come so well,” he said. He gestured at her pants. “May I?”
She nodded eagerly, and Felassan deftly loosened the drawstring of her pants. “Rise up,” he told her. 
She lifted herself higher on her knees. Felassan angled his wrist and started sliding his hand into her pants, and Tamaris held her breath as his fingers slipped down beneath her navel, then just above her sex, then–
He pressed his middle finger into her slippery cleft, and she twisted her fingers in his shirt and mewled with pleasure. He was caressing the swollen bud of her clit with careful little strokes, and the pressure and rhythm of his finger was so perfect that she didn’t even want to move her hips for fear of spoiling what he was doing so well.
Felassan exhaled shakily and looked up at her, and if possible, her lust throbbed even higher; his eyes were bright with a hot amethyst glow, and he somehow looked just as aroused now as when she was stroking his cock. He slid his fingers a little deeper into her pants and caressed her folds, and when she jerked her hips and moaned, he exhaled hard. 
“You feel incredible,” he rasped. “Like a wet dream come true.”
She laughed shakily at his compliment. “You don’t have dreams, thanks to your fancy tea.”
“And I’m glad for that,” he said with a grin. “This reality is so much better.” He adjusted the angle of his hand to continue stroking her clit, and Tamaris released a breathy moan and clutched his shoulders. He breathed hard as he petted her clit, and Tamaris blissfully tilted her head back so his breath would drift hotly across her neck.
His nose brushed over her exposed sternum, and she eagerly arched her chest toward him. He hummed with pleasure, and without stopping the perfect rhythm of his fingers, he nuzzled her breast and gently bit her nipple through her shirt and bra. 
“Fuck,” she whined, and she cradled his head in her hands. He growled and continued trying to bite her nipple through her clothes, but his attempts were both arousing and frustrating thanks to her fucking clothes, and his finger was so persistent and smooth between her legs and it felt so fucking good, fuck–
She came with a guttural cry and dug her fingers into his neck, and Felassan let out a breathy little laugh. “Good girl,” he crooned.
To her surprise, his words and his smooth voice lifted a sudden jolt of excitement between her legs, kicking her climax even higher. She whimpered wordlessly, unable to reply for the pleasure that was pulsing in her throat. 
When she could open her eyes again, she twisted his ear. “I told you not to call me that,” she scolded. 
He laughed and batted at her hand. “I think you liked it.”
“I did not,” she retorted, but she was smiling like a fucking idiot, and this only made Felassan laugh harder. 
He carefully pulled his hand out of her pants, running his finger firmly along the length of her slippery cleft as he did, and Tamaris gasped as the stroke of his finger lifted a fresh wave of lust through her just-sated body. 
He showed her his lust-slicked fingers. “Whether you liked it or not, this is very good,” he purred. He dipped his middle finger into his mouth and sucked, and Tamaris gaped stupidly at him as he licked her nectar from his fingers. When his fingers were clean, he cupped her neck in his palm and pulled her close for a kiss, and the taste of her arousal on his lips only made her more riled up.
She whimpered and pressed her fingers into his abs, but Felassan peeled away from her lips after just a few blissful seconds. Then he patted her bum casually. “Come on, avise. We should get changed. I’ve been told that there’s very important laundry to do.” He slid out from beneath her and stood up, and Tamaris stared at him as he sauntered out of the library. 
She sat there on the floor throbbing with unfulfilled lust for a few seconds, then let out an incredulous little laugh and flopped onto her back. Fucking Felassan, she thought with a mixture of amusement and frustration. He knew exactly what he was doing when he left her in this state, the smug bastard. 
She closed her eyes and sighed, feeling oddly content despite the unfulfilled pulse of want that was still coursing through her body. Then Felassan’s voice rang out from the upper floor. “Tamaris!” 
She instantly sat upright. He didn’t sound upset, but why was he yelling? “What?” she called back. “What’s wrong?” 
“Come up here!” he yelled.
Alarmed now, she rose to her feet and bolted out of the library. She skidded through the main room and ran up the stairs, intent on heading to his room, but as she passed her bedroom door, she stumbled to a stop. 
Felassan was in her room and standing at the window. She stepped into her room and strode toward him. “What?” she said urgently. “What’s going on?”
He beamed at her, and the boyish excitement in his face stole her breath for a moment. “The rain has stopped,” he said. 
She raised her eyebrows. “Actually stopped?” she said. “Not just drizzling?” She sidled up to the window and looked outside; sure enough, it had finally stopped raining, and there was even a feeble beam of sunlight illuminating the quiet alley below. 
“Come to the roof with me,” Felassan said, and he started climbing out of the window. 
“Hang on, but – you didn’t change,” she protested. He was still wearing the same messy clothes from their tryst in the library.
He shot her a cheeky grin. “I doubt anyone will notice. Besides, nobody ever looks up, remember?”
Her heart did a little flip at the reminder of the first day they’d met. She scoffed, but Felassan was already disappearing through the window. 
She shook her head in exasperation, but she couldn’t blame him for wanting to spend some time on the roof after three long days of being stuck indoors. Besides, it would be nice to get some fresh rain-scented air, even if it was still city air. 
With that pleasant thought, Tamaris slid out of the window to join him. 
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searchingwardrobes · 4 years
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The Convenient Groom: 3/12
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I know Tuesday is the day for updating this fic, and I did finish this chapter last night, but I was too tired to go through the long process of posting it. But I’m not THAT late, right?
Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​
Rating: M
Words: 5k in this chapter
Also on Ao3
Tagging: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @welllpthisishappening​ @kmomof4​ @teamhook​ @xhookswenchx​ @bethacaciakay​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @kday426​ @superchocovian​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @distant-rose​ @optomisticgirl​ @winterbaby89​ @wellhellotragic​ @branlovestowrite​ @tiganasummertree​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @vvbooklady1256​ @hollyethecurious​ @nikkiemms​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @jennjenn615​ @thislassishooked​ @snidgetsafan​ @let-it-raines​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @carpedzem​ @profdanglaisstuff​
Chapter Three: Emma and Killian wake up (separately) the morning after their wedding of convenience and face the fallout.
Killian was awakened the next morning by his ringing phone, and when he went to reach for it, he almost fell off the narrow sofa. He almost forgot where he was until the crick in his neck and the light pouring through the glass doors leading to the suite’s balcony reminded him. In his confused state, he neglected to check the contact on the phone screen before he answered.
“Hello?” He blinked and rubbed his hand over his face as he swung his legs to the floor.
“What the bloody hell did you do?”
Liam’s voice was like ice cold water being poured over his head. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
“You got married?”
“How . . . “ Killian stammered, “you mean you know?”
“It’s all over the news, little brother. I woke up this morning and my phone was blowing up with texts. No one even knew you were in a relationship! What the hell is going on?”
Killian’s hand drifted from his jaw to his ear and back again as he rose and began to pace. “Well, you see, with Emma being a public figure and all, we just wanted to keep our relationship secret. And with her line of work, we knew whoever she dated, much less married, would be under a lot of scrutiny. I mean, our relationship would have been picked apart, so -”
“So you lied to me?”
Killian almost dropped the phone. The lies were only just beginning. “Um, more like, I withheld information.”
“Vital information!” Liam’s volume was climbing, and Killian pulled the phone farther away from his ear. “Elsa is pissed, and Anna literally cried because she missed the wedding. How could you do this to us - again? I thought I’d be your best man this time.”
Killian groaned as he heard the hurt clearly in his brother’s voice. “I’m sorry, truly I am. Emma and I are planning on doing a second, smaller ceremony for my friends and family.”
“So this was a publicity stunt. To promote her and her career.”
Great. Liam was pissed at Emma and they hadn’t even met. “A career which I support wholeheartedly. I didn’t even really care how we got married just so long as we did. I love her.”
It was the first truthful thing Killian had said since he answered the phone.
*****************************************************
Killian had the television on while he simultaneously scrolled through social media on his phone. Liam hadn’t been exaggerating: the media was buzzing about Emma Swan - the one single women around the globe turned to for relationship advice - getting married. People magazine apparently had the exclusive rights to the photographs, which would be published in their next issue, but Emma’s press agent had officially released one photograph and it was literally everywhere. It was of their first dance, when Killian had gotten Emma to laugh. He hoped she was at least smiling in the rest that would appear in People. His heart would break if her shock, pain, and betrayal were on display for the world to see. He’d deal with the media, his brother, his sisters in law and their emotions - all of it - to keep that from happening.
“Seriously? Already?”
He turned at the sound of Emma’s voice. She was standing there wrapped up in the resort bathrobe, a fluffy towel circling her head. He hadn’t even heard her stir in the other room. He fumbled for the remote and muted it.
“Um, aye, your wedding is big news apparently - I mean, our wedding.” He gave her a nervous smile and scratched behind his ear.
Emma moaned, collapsed onto the chair across from him, and covered her face with both hands. “I invited the media,” she mumbled before pulling her hands away with a sigh, “so I don’t know why I’m irritated. I guess I just didn’t expect all this attention so soon.”
Killian quirked a brow and waved his phone at her. “Well Swan, according to Instagram you’re #relationshipgoals to all of your followers.”
Emma grimaced, and he knew it was a bad joke. “Yeah, what goals? To get jilted at the altar and marry your carpenter instead?”
Killian shrugged. “It was a damn good arbor I made though, right?”
Emma managed to laugh. “It really was, Jones.”
A silence fell between them. Killian turned off the television and set his phone aside. He knew she didn’t need any of it right now. Emma untwisted the towel from her head and ran her fingers through her wet hair. The picture she made: her hair tumbling wild, her long legs peeking where the robe had fallen open, the top gaping and giving him a peek of her cleavage was all too much. He wished for a robe himself as his boxer briefs tightened. He snatched the blanket from the couch and held it around his waist as casually as he could as he stood and made his way to the bedroom.
“I think I’ll just, um . . . use the shower now myself,” he told her.
“Sure,” she replied, and when she smiled at him, he could swear he saw a twinkle in her eyes.
Emma had used up a lot of the hot water, but the cold shower was what he needed anyway. He lingered just long enough to wash away the sweat from the last twenty four hours and calm himself down. When he exited, he was relieved to see that his bags were lined up against Emma’s in the bedroom. The bellhop must have put them there the night before. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple grey tee from his bag. He had just slipped the shirt over his head when he heard a knock at the door and a voice call out “room service!”
Emma beat him to the door, and when Killian stepped out of the bedroom, she was ushering in a man pushing a tray that held their breakfast. Emma was still wearing the robe, and Killian didn’t miss the appreciative look the man gave her as he told her to enjoy her breakfast. Killian cleared his throat pointedly.
“Yes, we certainly will.”
The man had the decency to blush. “Um, yes, Mr. Jones. Enjoy your breakfast.”
Emma laughed after the man had shut the door behind him.
“What?”
“Jealous, Mr. Jones?”
Killian huffed. “Well, did you notice the way he was looking at you?”
Emma shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I’m wearing nothing but a bathrobe.”
“But you’re married!”
Emma’s eyes widened. “But we’re not actually a couple.”
“He doesn’t know that,” Killian grumbled.
Emma laughed again as she lifted the cover on one of the plates of food. Her laughter cut off sharply, however, and her hand froze in midair. “Are you kidding me?”
Killian rushed to her side, wondering what could be wrong with their breakfast, but then he saw it: the local newspaper tucked between the trays. The headline practically screamed: Emma Swan and New Husband Honeymoon on the Cape. Below it was the same official wedding photograph everyone else was posting along with a paparazzi shot of the two of them arriving last night in the limo. Emma banged the cover back onto the plate with a grunt of irritation.
“Everyone promised they would be discreet! The limo driver, the hotel manager . . . “ she trailed off with a scowl on her face.
“I’m sure they were, love. Anyone could have tipped off a reporter: a bellhop, a maid . . . “
Emma paced the room. “This means that any time we go out, there could be reporters.”
“Well,” Killian quipped, struggling to keep the shit eating grin off his face and failing spectacularly, “don’t most newlyweds stay in the majority of the time? Doing more enjoyable activities rather than sightseeing?”
Emma rolled her eyes, but a faint blush colored her cheeks. “I’m not going to hide.”
“In that case,” Killian replied, pulling the cover off a plate of eggs benedict and bacon, “I’m going to enjoy the view with my breakfast.”
He carried the plate, some silverware, and a tumbler of orange juice out onto the balcony. He breathed in the salty sea air and let the breeze wash over him.
“Relaxed?” Emma asked sarcastically. Killian turned to see her leaning against the open sliding glass door with her arms cross.
“Aye,” he answered, taking a bite of the eggs benedict and moaning. He was exaggerating slightly to get a rise out of Emma, but they were delicious. “By the way, love, if paparazzi are around, you may not want to lounge about our balcony in naught but your bathrobe.”
Emma blushed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you always talk like a character in a Jane Austen novel?”
He laughed as Emma scurried to get dressed.
******************************************
Emma leaned over the bathroom sink to sweep some blush across her cheeks. She didn’t want to waste too much time primping; those eggs benedict looked amazing, and she didn’t want them to get cold. Yet Killian was right - a picture could be snapped anywhere, and she didn’t want to look pale and depressed She tossed aside her makeup brush, ran her fingers through her hair, and rushed back out to grab her breakfast. Before she could lift the cover on the second breakfast tray, her phone started to ring. She was so hungry, she almost ignored it, but at the last minute, she snatched it up. With the media all over her wedding, anything could go wrong.
Walsh.
Panic flooded through Emma at his name on her cell phone screen, and her hand trembled as she took the call.
“You married someone else?”
Emma clenched her teeth. “Why good morning to you too, Walsh. How is your day?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Emma. We break up, and the next morning I wake up to find your wedding day splashed all over the news?”
“You didn’t just break up with me, Walsh! You cheated on me! And you waited until our wedding day to tell me!”
“And that wedding was never anything more than a stunt for your career. I didn’t even have any say in it.”
“Oh really? So you didn’t get down on one knee and propose? I just imagined that?”
Walsh let out a long breath. “That was eight months ago. A lot has changed since then.”
“I’ll say,” Emma grumbled.
“Don’t put this all on me. I was always your dirty little secret. I couldn’t even tell anyone I was your boyfriend much less your fiance.”
“How dare you!” Emma’s voice had risen, but she didn’t care. “That was you, Walsh! You said you didn’t like that I had a blog or such a huge social media following. You said it made you nervous. You said people would violate your privacy and try to dig up dirt on our relationship. So we kept it secret - because it’s what you wanted. I was your dirty little secret, not the other way around.”
A sleepy, feminine voice came distantly through the phone. “Walsh? Who are you talking to? Come back to bed.”
Emma felt sick. She knew that voice.
“Zelena West? You cheated on me with that bitch?”
“Hey, don’t call her that,” Walsh snapped.
Emma rolled her eyes. Zelena West had overtly flirted with Walsh at every social function back in New York, yet Walsh had insisted constantly that the Broadway starlet was just his client, nothing more. Even worse, Zelena went out of her way to undermine Emma on social media, posting snarky tweets and YouTube videos contradicting Emma’s advice. As if a Broadway actress who slept her way into every role she ever had was qualified to give relationship advice. In Emma’s opinion, Zelena’s dating advice boiled down to “make your man happy with a fake ‘you’ and lots of sex.” Advice that basically took women backward about six decades.
“Is everything okay?”
Emma whirled to see Killian in the doorway to the balcony, his forehead creased with worry. On the other end of the line, Walsh laughed sardonically.
“Sounds like you’re one to talk. You’re on our honeymoon with - what did TMZ call him? Swan’s sexy catch?” Walsh laughed again. “I always wondered why that wedding arbor meant so much to you.”
“You don’t get to judge me!”
“The point is,” Walsh said, his voice turning serious, “we drifted apart as soon as you moved to Storybrooke. I’m a New Yorker through and through, Emma. That kind of life never would have been enough for me.’
Emma sank to the couch and was surprised when Killian sat down next to her and laid a hand comfortingly on her knee. “The thing is, Walsh, you should have told me all of this six months ago. I didn’t deserve what you did to me. I didn’t deserve your cheating or your lying.”
“Who’s lying now?”
The edge to his voice sent a chill down Emma’s spine and she glanced at Killian with a worried expression. He frowned and put an arm around her. Before this phone call, she would have pushed him away, but right now she appreciated the support.
“Are you threatening me, Walsh?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your facade of a marriage. Lord knows I don’t want my name dragged through the mud when it all blows up in your face.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The truth will come out eventually, Emma, and when it does, your career will be over.”
“Sounds like a threat to me.”
“It isn’t, I promise you. I love Zelena, and I just want a clean break so I can give what I have with her a chance.”
“A clean break? That’s what leaving me on our wedding day is to you?”
“I can admit that my timing was bad, but you promise you won’t interfere with my relationship with Zelena?”
Emma rubbed her forehead wearily. “I don’t give a shit what you do with Zelena. Just stay out of my life. Don’t call me again.”
She hung up without waiting for a reply and tossed her phone down angrily on the sofa. Killian rubbed at her shoulder hesitantly.
“Anything I can do?”
Emma shook her head. “No.” Then she squared her shoulders and rose from the couch. “We have five days here in the Cape, and I intend to enjoy it.”
Killian smiled up at her. “That’s the spirit. How does the beach sound?”
“It sounds great,” she told him, struggling to put a brave smile on her face. Then she went back to the cart that held their breakfast. “But first - I’m starving!”
************************************************
Killian was glad that his swim trunks were roomier than his boxer briefs because Emma Swan made quite the picture lounging in a crimson string bikini. She’d been sunbathing for awhile on her back, and he’d thought that was a tantalizing picture, but his view now was just as delectable. She’d flipped over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows to read a book. Her bikini bottoms hugged her ass just as well as the top hugged her breasts. It made his mouth dry thinking of how much he’d like to . . . he took a swig from a bottle of water then pressed the cool plastic to his forehead.
“Grab me one?” Emma asked, rolling onto her side and slipping a bookmark into her novel.
Killian pulled one out of the cooler provided by the resort. A wicker basket contained the remains of their lunch - sandwiches, grapes, slices of cheese, and gourmet pretzels. The honeymoon package at this resort was four star, and far nicer than anything Killian had experienced before. Yet Emma wasn’t pretentious in the least. He had learned enough about her over the past few months to know at least that much. She’d moved her life and her practice to Storybrooke because she wanted to really help people, not just cater to the elite in New York. Her therapy fees were a bargain, especially considering her level of education. She lived simply, and he wondered if it was a sacrifice so she could help more clients or just the way Emma Swan rolled. He looked forward to finding out.
He couldn’t really read Emma’s expression behind her sunglasses as she took the water from him, but he saw her lips curl up in a tiny smile. “What’s on your mind, Jones?”
He shook his head. “What?”
“If you stare at me any harder, you’re going to burn a whole in my head.”
He chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
She took a sip of water. “About what?”
“You.”
“Oh,” Emma said softly.
“I mean, if we’re going to be husband and wife for eight months to a year, we should at least get to know each other.”
Emma was quiet a beat longer than he was comfortable with, but she finally gave a firm nod. “Okay, that’s fair.”
“Of course, we can start with me.” He reached into the basket for a handful of grapes and popped one into his mouth. “So shoot. Ask me anything.”
Emma arched a brow. “Anything?”
“Aye. I’m an open book.” Just don’t ask me how I feel about you. The grape almost stuck in his throat going down. Why was he agreeing to this?
“Okay, then,” Emma took a deep breath, “can you tell me about your first wife? I mean, just what you’re comfortable sharing.”
She was afraid she’d overstepped as Killian fell silent, rolling a grape between two fingers, his gaze distant. Then he popped the grape in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, then began to speak in a low voice.
“Her name was Milah. I was a senior at Bowdoin -”
“Whoa, whoa, wait,” Emma interrupted waving her hand around, “Bowdoin?”
Killian chuckled. “Didn’t expect a carpenter to be a college grad, did you?”
“Yes, I mean no, it’s just,” Emma blew a strand of hair off her forehead in frustration. “That came out wrong. Lots of small business owners have a degree, it’s just . . . Bowdoin?”
Killian nodded with a smug grin.
“Business major?”
“Double major in music and visual arts.”
Emma whistled. “Wow. No wonder your work is so beautiful.”
He scratched behind his ear, a tell Emma had already come to learn meant he was nervous or uncomfortable. “Thank you, Swan.”
“Bowdoin,” she repeated with a shake of her head.
“I know what you’re thinking. It’s expensive. I had scholarships. Two of them - one for art and one for music. It added up to a full ride, but I almost didn’t go.”
“What!”
Killian smiled wistfully. “Believe me, I know. I was young and impetuous. Thought I’d go into the navy, actually, but Liam talked sense into me.”
“He’s your brother?”
“Aye.”
They fell silent again, and Emma wondered if he’d change the subject, if all she’d get was a name and that he’d been a senior at Bowdoin when he met her.
“She was a professor, and she was already married” he finally said, glancing at her sideways as if expecting her reaction to be negative. Little did he know the stuff she’d heard as a psychiatrist. She doubted anything could shock her anymore. When all she did was nod, he continued. “Her husband was controlling, verbally abusive, and much older than her. He was wealthy, and she’d let herself get caught up in the trappings of his life. I think my youth, my freedom, were what appealed to her in the beginning. But over time, I don’t think anyone ever understood me the way she did. We were married at the justice of the peace a week after I graduated, only a month after her divorce was final. It was quite the scandal.”
Killian winked at her, but she got the feeling it was a deflection. She looked down at the beach blanket she was lying on and traced the pattern with her finger.
“What was she like?”
“Brilliant,” he sighed, “and vivacious. She didn’t take shit from anyone. Her husband must have been a right bastard to keep her under his thumb for so long.”
He hadn’t said a word about her looks, which surprised Emma. In her experience, it was the first thing men usually thought of when someone asked them to describe a woman.
“What was she professor of?”
“Music theory. She was quite the composer. The piano was her instrument, and she also had a beautiful voice.”
“What do you play?” Emma scooted closer. She had never imagined him as musical, just as a sweaty man flexing his muscles in that shop of his.
He smiled at her. “The guitar, but I haven’t played much since . . .”
Emma frowned. “Since she passed?”
Killian nodded. Emma scrambled up to sit cross legged on the beach blanket. The mood had gotten heavy, and she suddenly needed to lighten it. She still didn’t know how MIlah died, but perhaps now wasn’t the time. She grinned at Killian and poked him in the leg.
“Okay, Jones. Your turn to ask a question.”
He rubbed at his chin as he regarded her intensely, and Emma had to force herself not to squirm under his gaze. When he finally chose his question, it took her completely by surprise.
“I told you I haven’t read your book, and despite our cover story, I’ve never followed you online either. So tell me, Swan. What exactly is your philosophy on romance?”
Relief and eagerness simultaneously coursed through her. On the one hand, she was relieved that it was a professional question rather than a personal one. On the other, she always got excited talking about her ideas regarding relationships.
“Well, first of all, it’s not about romance, it’s about building solid relationships.”
“You don’t believe in romance?”
Emma shrugged. “There’s obvious biochemical reactions when we are attracted to someone.”
Killian leaned close. “I said romance, not attraction, love.”
Emma glared at him over the rim of her sunglasses as she shoved him playfully in the shoulder. “Okay, smart ass, but what I’m saying is that women in particular can get caught up in what you call romance and miss the reality of who the person they are dating actually is. Men are experts at playing on a woman’s emotions as well in order to get what they want. So step one is for a woman to watch out for those tricks, to understand the games men play so they won’t be duped.”
This was usually the part where men got defensive and started arguing with her, but Killian didn’t.
“What’s step two?”
“Well, step two is the compatibility quotient.”
“Ah, I see, like those algorithms dating sites use.”
Emma shook her head. “No. Those are questions to measure personality compatibility. I help women figure out what they want in a partner. Everything from their professional goals to family goals, even whether they are more an urbanite or suburbanite or like to live way out in the country.”
“Let me guess. There’s a chart.”
Emma huffed. “Are you making fun of me?”
Killian lifted both hands in surrender. “Not at all, Swan. Just a simple question.”
“Yes,” she admitted, “there’s a chart. And I always recommend that women review what it is they want both before and after each date. If the man they’re seeing doesn’t fit, even if it’s only the first date, they end it. Of course, there’s always the red flags to look for too.”
Killian nodded, and you could have knocked her over with a feather at the way he was mulling over her words. Most men were pissed at her by now. Even Walsh had been before she explained how he perfectly fit everything she had been looking for.
Or so she had thought.
“Red flags are definitely important. Milah said there were several before she married Robert, but she’d been blinded by their whirlwind romance.”
“Not rushing into things, that’s important too.”
“Chapter?” Killian asked with a grin.
Emma grinned back. “Chapter four - Seriously Ladies, What’s the Rush?”
“What’s the rush as in my groom just left me and I need a replacement in six hours rush?”
Emma groaned, even though a laugh bubbled out of her unbidden. “I don’t think I covered this scenario in my book.”
“Well, Swan, maybe this will be fodder for your third book.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said that, and Emma sensed a tone of self-deprecation in his words even though it was worded as a joke.
“So what do you think?” she asked.
“About your third book?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “No, about my theories.”
Killian was silent for a long time. He spread out on his side and propped himself up on his elbows so he was looking right up into her eyes.
“I think it’s all rather clinical, to be honest. I don’t know that love can be boiled down to compatibility or goals in life. I think love is messy and always a risk. It upends your life so that it’s never the same.”
Emma usually got angry when men argued with her about her life’s work, but something about Killian’s voice softened his words.
“I agree, and that’s just it. Women have to protect themselves from allowing their lives to be upended by the wrong person.”
Emma’s face burned as she realized what she was saying. Obviously, her life had been upended by the wrong person. How could she have missed the signs?
“Milah would have liked you, Emma.”
Her eyes widened at Killian’s words and the soft smile upon his face. He could call her out; point out the very obvious failure she had been at her own relationship, but he didn’t. Another long, silent moment passed between them before Emma cleared her throat and started rummaging through the drawstring bag she’d brought along. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and started rubbing it into her skin. She had a tendency to burn, and she wasn’t about to spend the rest of their trip miserable and slathered in aloe vera.
Killian sat up and drew closer, reaching around her for the sunscreen and lowering his lips to her ear. “Don’t look, but farther down the beach, behind that sand dune is a man with a camera. He doesn’t look like a tourist, and the camera’s trained on us, not the water.”
Emma froze. “What do we do?”
“Give him what he wants,” Killian answered. “A woman in love would ask the man in her life to do her back, right?”
Emma could only nod as she gathered her hair off her neck. Killian sat behind her and squirted sunscreen into his palm. The sunscreen was cold at first against her skin, but then the warmth of his hands had her muscles relaxing. His fingers were calloused, his touch firm yet gentle. She bit her lower lip as he worked the lotion into her shoulder, her neck, then her upper back. He slid his fingers beneath the straps of her bikini so he wouldn’t miss a spot, then massaged down her lower back, his thumb trailing along the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She hoped he didn’t feel the shiver that coursed through her.
“Lie down.”
His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and she almost leaned back against him with a sigh before his words registered with her brain.
“Excuse me?”
“Lie down. I’ll get the backs of your legs.”
Emma managed to nod and did as he asked, propping her chin on her crossed arms. He massaged the lotion into her thighs and then her calves with such delicious circles of his thumbs that she almost let out a moan.
“Done,” he told her in a husky voice.
Emma rolled over to find herself caged between his arms. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out, yet he didn’t move.
“Newlyweds would kiss right now, don’t you think?”
“Why? Is he still taking pictures?”
Killian leaned in closer and gently removed her sunglasses. “Probably.”
“Then I guess we should.”
“Should what?” his lips were so close now, she could hardly breathe.
“Kiss,” she breathed.
“Right,” his lips brushed hers, then he pressed them against hers firmly. She kissed him back, opening for him immediately. Her arms encircled his neck, bringing him down to her. He could have taken advantage of the situation, pressing his body to hers, exploring her barely clothed figure with his hands, but he didn’t. He rested on his side, slipping one hand beneath her head and caressing her upper arm with his other. When he pulled away, he stayed close, their breaths still mingling.
“That was pretty good acting,” she told him with a shaky voice.
“Right,” he said, rolling onto his back and flinging an arm over his eyes, “acting.”
Now Emma rolled over, caging him between her arms instead. “Hey,” she teased him, “I think we’ve put on a pretty convincing show. Now how about we get out into that water?”
Killian pulled his arm away from his face and squinted in the sun. “Race you to the water?”
“You’re on!”
Emma thought she had the advantage, considering their positions, until Killian grabbed her around the waist. She yelped as he deposited her right on her rear. He then took off for the water line as she scrambled to her feet. She could scarcely breathe, she was laughing so hard.
Not the way she’d imagined this honeymoon twenty four hours ago, that was for sure. She’d expected to be holed up in her room watching rom coms and binge eating ice cream. Instead she was laughing on the beach with Killian Jones who just happened to be a damn good kisser.
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seokstrivia · 5 years
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Golden Lies | pjm
✧ Summary: Many people warned you about Park Jimin, some told you to be careful. But you didn’t listen and now you were falling deeper and deeper into his golden lies. 
Or, that au where Jimin hurts feelings, but you're stronger than you look. 
✧ Softboy!AU | M.list | wordcount; 9.5k
✧ Park Jimin x Reader; pining, slowish burn, angst, hurt feelings, trust issues, white lies, friends with benefits/one night stand kinda au, smut, some fluff
A/N I’m so sorry it took me so long to post this, I finally got my laptop back! but I would like to thank @gukgalore and @jiminspjm for helping me get through this and overall, just being amazing friends!!! I hope this was worth the wait! ♡
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✧ What is a soft boy?        Similar to a fuck-boy but without the cocky attitude. 
➢ Early, morning hangovers
“You know I never thought I’d hear the words, ‘I’m lonely,’ come out of your mouth.”
There was a scowl on your face while you held your head in your hands. Eyes aching from the gold light emitting from your window, even your body hurt in places they’d never hurt before.
You groaned.
“Drunk you really doesn’t hold back, eh?” Namjoon spoke again, handing you a glass of water and some painkillers. “Luckily, you’ve got a best friend like me.”
You snorted while trying to swallow your water, “Namjoon, you haven’t even been around lately. You’ve been too busy pining after Jin and trying to get your hands down his pants.”
The said boys face turned red, not out of embarrassment of being caught red-handed, but because he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was.
“Doesn’t matter,” you chuckled at the expression on his face while getting out of bed. “I’m dragging you to hell with me. We’re stuck together”
Namjoon pursed his lips, following you out of your room and into the kitchen. He knew you weren’t mad that he’d been hanging out with Jin, but he couldn’t help feel bad for neglecting you.
He bound his arms around your middle and retired his head on your shoulder, letting you pull him around while you poured two bowls of cereal.
You smiled. Namjoon sighed.
“Do you promise?” He finally questioned.
You turned your head as much as you could to look at him, “what?”
“Do you promise we’ll always be together?”
A chuckle left your lips as your hand came to ruffle his hair, a small action he’d come to adore and appreciate so much.
“I made that promise the day I broke your bullies arm by accident,” you said, turning in his hold to stare into his dark eyes. “I intend on keeping that promise.”
Namjoon’s face broke out into a huge grin; he pulled you in for a hug and kissed your cheek before grabbing his bowl of cereal.
“I love you, y/n.”
You snorted at the heart in his eyes, there was a lot of love in him. A lot he was willing to share with the world, but only so many deserved it and you were just lucky enough to be one of them.
“I love you too, Joonie.”
➢ Old shoes are in. New cafes are out
A yawn parted your lips, eyes watering at the same time. It was difficult staying awake during the lecture, the very one that was absolutely mandatory to attend.
Fortunately, it was the last one of the day.
“Jin asked me if I want to meet him for coffee later,” Namjoon whispered, nudging your arm to get your attention. “Do you want to join?”
You retired your chin on your head and turned to stare at your friend with a bored expression, “Not really.”
There was a sheepish grin on his face, phone screen shining rather brightly so you could see the texts.
“Please? He wants to introduce you to Jimin.”
You raised an eyebrow in return, “you told him?”
“I had to.”
A huff parted your lips, eyes rolling while doing so, however, you weren’t mad. You couldn’t bring yourself to be, not when it came to Namjoon. Even if he did tell his future, to-be-boyfriend, that you were lonely.
“Fine,” you grumbled after a second too long. “Only if you buy me food.”
A smile adorned Namjoon’s face, mainly excited that you could finally meet Jin, but also looking forward to your meeting with Jimin.
Maybe, just maybe, Jimin could be your Jin.
The cafe you were dragged to, literally dragged, you tripped over your laces a few times, was one you’d never been to. It had a very hipster vibe to it—not that you were complaining, it just wasn’t your cup of tea.
No pun intended.
“Be nice, yeah?” Namjoon muttered, staring deep into your eyes.
You nodded your head and ushered him into the cafe, because standing outside, in the rain, wasn’t on your agenda, and frankly something you hadn’t agreed to.
A smile immediately adorned Namjoon’s face when he saw Jin, a tall, handsome, broad-shouldered man. A sight for sore eyes, but you weren’t interested in him. You were interested in the much shorter guy next to him, the one with the dark hair and plump lips.
The very one you tripped over your laces for.
He chuckled when you approached him. Namjoon was next to you with a frown on his face because ‘why didn’t you tie your laces when I told you to?’
“Do you need help knotting your laces?”
His voice wasn’t too deep, but there was something about it that had you biting your bottom lip. Namjoon nudged your arm, drawing you out of your, not so clean, thoughts. What would you do without him?
“I know how to tie them,” you said glancing down at your old but favourite pair. “I just can’t be bothered.”
“And that’s how you’ll end up hurting yourself,” Namjoon immediately scolded, earning a chuckle from Jin who seemed absolutely smitten for your best friend. “Please, tie them.”
You clicked your tongue, glancing at Jin and instantaneously accepting him to be suitable for Namjoon.
“I like him,” you said, pointing at the tall male before sitting down to tie your laces.
Namjoon’s face turned red.
That day you learnt the shorter male was a dancer and singer, and most importantly, that he was single.
Park Jimin saved your number on his phone and texted you as soon as he got home that night.
Park Jimin never left your mind.
➢ Breaking news: boys suck.
“Guess what, y/n!”
“I don’t want to know, Joonie.”
“But it’s good, I swear!”
You sat up from your lying position and glared at the flushed boy. He was out of breath and sweaty—which was unusual because Namjoon didn’t run.
“What? And why are you sweaty?” You grimaced.
Namjoon hastily approached the bed, jumping onto his knees and shuffling towards you. There was a big, huge, shit eating, grin on his face now, and that was when you immediately regretted giving in to him.
“Park Jimin was asking about you today.”
He wriggled his eyebrows.
“I knew you should’ve come with me,” he added reaching for your charger and plugging in his phone. “He looked so sad when I told him you didn’t want to join.”
You rolled your eyes and flicked Namjoon on the forehead, earning a whine in return.
“What was that for?” He pouted.
“That was for using my charger without asking,” you stated. “Also, some classmates told me that he’s a bit of a... fuck-boy.”
Namjoon stared at you with wide eyes, this was presumably the first time he’d ever heard anyone say that about Jin’s friend. But then again, Jin hadn’t really mentioned anything about Jimin, just that, well that, he was lonely.
“Do you believe them?”
You shrugged your shoulders, lying back down and unlocking your phone. The truth was, they told you more than that, they’d actually warned you about him and told you to be careful.
Apparently, Jimin had broken one too many hearts. Who knew someone with such an angelic face, could have such a dark heart and menacing mind?
“Should we order take-out?” You asked, changing the subject and atmosphere altogether.
Namjoon perched up and uncontrollably nodded his head.
➢ Lemon flavoured ice tea
You were gazing out the window, observing people stroll past, straw perched in your mouth as you slowly finished your drink.
Namjoon said he had plans with Jin, of course. Again.
Jin was trying everything he could to win Namjoon’s already won, heart. Apparently, your best friend was playing hard to get, when in reality, the boy was head over heels in love, fallen completely, for the male with the broad-shoulders and handsome face.
However, it was quite amusing to watch the two-run in circles for each other. If Namjoon was happy— which he was, then so were you and right now that was all that mattered. Although he begged to differ, if anyone should be happy, he said. It should be you.
Agreed to disagree.
You continued your hard staring out of the window, mind full of Namjoon and Jin, but now with a smile on your face and drink almost finished.
It was a good day so far, no one was bothering you, there was no homework to complete, no essays to write and Namjoon was happy. But then, then someone dared to sit next to you, to tap your shoulder and draw you out of your current happy place.
When you turned to see who it was, your heart stopped.
“Hey.”
His voice was calming, but there was something about him that had your mind racing. Something that had your nerves skyrocketing because something didn’t feel right.
You scanned his face, from his eyes to his nose to his lips and back to his eyes. The smile on his lips wasn’t as genuine as it could be, his eyes didn’t shine as bright as they should and well, he seemed so distant even with him seated so close.
“What? Don’t like what you see?” He joked.
You rolled your eyes, “it’s more what I’ve heard.”
Jimin retired his head in his hand, eager to hear what you’ve been told. Eager to know what you thought of him after hearing such words, statements worries, and, and warnings.
You stared into his deep, dark eyes— eyes that presumably held so many secrets. Held so many hidden emotions and possibilities of what he’d seen.
“It’s nothing good,” you hummed, eyes leaving his as you slipped off the stool. “Probably, all just white lies.”
A smile adorned Jimin’s lips as he watched you reach for your bag, gradually placing it on your shoulder.
“Will I see you again?” He asked, following you towards the cafe door, holding it open and slipping out after you.
You twisted around, a smile on your own lips, eyes crinkled in turn as you slowly stepped backwards, “if luck is on your side,” you said before turning back and disappearing around the corner.
➢ The designated driver
There was a red cup mostly filled with vodka in one hand and a drunk Yoongi in the other. He was muttering under his breath about being sleep deprived and craving naps with his dog.
A smile crept across your face when he allowed himself to retire his head on your shoulder, because he was tired, because, ‘taking a nap is so much better than getting drunk.’
He was long gone. You chuckled.
“Look y/n,” Namjoon slurred, a plant pot brought into view. “His name is Barry.”
Jin chuckled at the shorter boy with huge heart eyes, he was so whipped for him and it was grossly obvious.
“He’s very handsome,” you told Namjoon with a genuine smile. “But definitely not as handsome as you.”
Namjoon flushed a pink and hiccupped before gazing up at Jin, his boyfriend, the very man he’d been running in multiple circles for, and beamed.
“She thinks I’m handsome,” he said.
“She’s right.”
As much as you adored your best friend and his boyfriend, you really weren’t up for watching them ogle at each other and make-out every other second.
There was this thing called privacy.
“Can you two help me get Yoongi into the car?” You asked with an eyebrow raised teasingly because you knew exactly what was on their minds before you interrupted them. “I’d appreciate it greatly.”
Namjoon hiccupped again and Jin blushed.
“I don’t think Namjoon is sober enough to help you,” said the broad-shouldered male. “And I don’t think I’m suitable either.”
“I can help.”
Your eyes snapped from Jin’s to the shorter male next to him, the male who was lucky enough to run into you again. You raised an eyebrow in turn and glanced at Yoongi before shrugging your shoulders.
If you had no one else to help, why say no?
Not many words were exchanged when you led him to your car, when you opened the door, when you watched Jimin buckle Yoongi’s seatbelt and close the door.
What was there to say? Nothing.
Everything.
“Thanks,” you said, watching Jimin walk round the vehicle— towards you. “You’re very helpful.”
Jimin snorted at your teasing tone, hand running through his dark locks. He didn’t seem to be phased by you and your choice of playing hard to get.
But were you playing hard to get? Or were you just being you?
“I— eh, I’m known for being extremely helpful,” he joked in a low tone, eyes daring to gaze deeply into yours. “In more places than one.”
“Oh, I bet,” you replied softly before opening the car door. “I’ll see you around, Mr Park.”
Jimin watched you get into the driver's seat but stopped you from closing the door. Apparently, he had more to say, to tell you, to express as he made eye contact before leaning down to eye level.
Park Jimin was bold.
“A date,” he dared. “You and me, Friday night.”
The smirk playing on his lips didn’t go unnoticed by you, neither did the mischievousness in his eyes. He was easy to read, easy to figure out but hard to stay away from.
Park Jimin was endearing.
“What if I say no?” You quirked.
Jimin tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you felt yourself giving into his touch. But he didn’t reply to your question, instead, he closed the door and winked at you before stepping away.
Park Jimin was dangerous.
➢ The one who places the bets loses
Dribble, Dribble, shoot. Score!
A wide grin appeared on your face, watching the ball slip into the hoop. That would have been the winning goal— if it were a real championship game and not a laidback round of shooting against Yoongi.
“When did you get so good?”
There was a look of distaste on Yoongi’s face because since when you were able to score three times in a row? You weren’t even on the college team, he was.
You picked up the ball and proceeded towards the sour male, a smirk playing on your lips. Who knew you would become just as good as the captain of the basketball team? You beamed to yourself.
“I practised like you told me to,” you told him.
He grabbed the ball out of your hands, settling it under his arm before walking off to grab his bag. A laugh escaped your lips, music to some ears but a mockery to Yoongi’s, but, as disappointed as he was, he wasn’t one to mope over lost games.
“Yeah, well,” he sighed, turning back to look at you. “A bet’s a bet.”
You beamed in return, picking up your own bag, “fries and shakes?”
Yoongi nodded.
The walk to the burger joint was full of banter and stories you hadn’t shared with one another yet. It didn’t take long for Yoongi to receive a text from his best friend Jin. Letting him know that he’s waiting inside with Namjoon.
Yoongi laughed, gums in view as he showed you the picture he was sent. A picture of Namjoon next to Jimin, the very man who seemed to have captivated your mind.
Why was he there? Who invited him?
“Let’s send a pic of us,” Yoongi’s grinned, holding up his phone. “Give a smile.”
You rolled your eyes at his joke and scowled instead, “don’t tell me what to do.”
He winced when you lightly punched his arm, acting as if it was extremely painful— that his arm was now bruising and most possibly broken.
You rolled your eyes again.
When the two of you finally stepped into the burger joint, you noticed a seat vacant next to Jimin and one next to Jin— across from Jimin. So, either way, you’d be next to the short male no matter where you sat, it seemed planned almost.
Without even checking with you, Yoongi made himself comfortable next to Jin, more than ready to complain about losing to you.
Namjoon laughed at the frown on your face, amused but happy you were getting along with his boyfriend’s friend.
“I was hoping I’d get to see you again.”
Jimin had a smirk on his lips, his voice quiet when you took the seat next to him. Your eyes met his for a split second before meeting with the menu in front of you.
It was easy to pretend you didn’t care.
“I have that kind of effect on people,” you told him after second of withheld silence.
Jimin chuckled under his breath, eyes drinking you in, his mind drowning with thoughts of you becoming his under silk sheets and red satin.
You turned to stare back at him, feeling his gaze burning holes in your body. There was a new found darkness in his eyes, something you’d seen before but not within him.
“Why don’t you take a picture?” You dared with dark eyes of your own. “It’ll last longer.”
Jimin didn’t get the chance to respond since Yoongi was hauling you out of the booth and towards the counter to order food.
‘A bet’s a bet’, he said when he swiped his card.
The rest of the evening was spent listening to old stories and telling new ones. It was spent making new memories and getting to know your friends better— Jimin included.
Once empty stomachs were filled with good food, Namjoon decided it was time to end the night. Time to go home and rest for a new day, as philosophical as he was and could be, he was as right as he always was.
Jimin turned to you, reaching for your hand before you could walk down the dark street to go home. He knew from what he’d heard that you could take care of yourself, but when would he get the chance to be alone with you?
“I’ll drive you home,” he explained when you stared at him with a confused expression. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“You got balls, Jimin.”
“I got two big ones,” he winked making you grimace at the clever, but not so clever, remark.
The car ride consisted of you staring out the window, admiring the tall buildings, colourful lights and lively streets.
Your mind, however, was full of questions you wanted to ask Jimin— well, interrogate. But you decided to stay quiet, mainly because you didn’t know when you would get the chance to be alone with him again.
Chances like this were rare and hard to come by. Which is why you didn’t argue with Jimin when he basically dragged you to his car.
Something about his actions told you that he wanted to be with you too. But presumably with a different, not so PG, reason.
Jimin glanced at you before focusing on the road ahead again, “about that date on Friday night,” the male finally spoke. “You didn’t say no.”
“I didn’t say yes either,” you answered back.
“Touché,” he laughed. “But, will you consider it?”
At this rate, he’d already parked in your apartment block parking lot and turned off the ignition. There was a small smile on his face while he waited for a response, secretly hoping you would say yes— secretly hoping you would invite him in.
But you were different from everyone else he’d asked out.
“I’m not like other girls,” you told him, making eye contact. “But, maybe I will consider it.”
You winked at him, the same way he did the last time you saw him, and got out the car. Waving goodbye before proceeding towards the tall building and into the warmth.
Jimin watched you with a wide smile, mind racing with thoughts of you saying yes and letting him have his way. Because no matter what you or anyone else said, Jimin always won in the end.
➢ Romance novels accompanied by storms
A rainstorm. One that had blown out any and all power in the city, plunging you into nothing but darkness. Luckily, you weren’t alone when it happened, luckily Jin had candles and you had a lighter.
Luckily, you were friends with such great people.
“What do you guys think we should do?” Namjoon asked, cuddling into his boyfriend, sleep making itself comfortable in his eyes.
You raised an eyebrow, legs crossed on the couch and a book perched on your lap, “I know what you want to do,” you snorted, eyes glancing at your friend before settling back on the page.
He frowned, eyes drooping because the soft lighting and sound of the rain were putting him to sleep. He couldn’t help it, Jin was warm.
“Maybe we should take a nap,” his boyfriend suggested, leaving an array of soft kisses on his head—he was that gone for him.
You chuckled under your breath, muttering something along the lines of, ‘called it.’ You knew him that well, you knew him better than anyone else, and when you glanced up again, he was out like a light.
Exactly how you’d predicted it in your mind.
Jin smiled at you, asking if you were okay and only closing his eyes after you’d informed him that you were fine, that you weren’t a child but actually an independent grown-ass woman.
He hummed in agreement before going to sleep.
Shortly after, you continued to read your book, breathing lightly and softly as your mind filled with imagination, and images of the story you were reading.
There was a smile on your lips, heart racing at the thought of living in a fantasy world where heartbreak didn’t exist. How amazing would it be to openly be in love and not need to have your guard up?
Namjoon was lucky, sometimes you thought you lived in a parallel universe to him. Jin was perfect, handsome, sweet, and talented and a great cook— where on earth did you find someone so amazing like that in a world like this?
Answer: You didn’t.
A dreamy sigh escaped your lips as you let your mind run wild. Because you were allowed to, and as strong as your walls were, you were allowed to let your guard down when you were alone.
A ping broke you out of your reverie, eyes leaving the book in hand, instead, moving towards your phone that lay lifelessly next to your thigh. The screen heavily brightened the room, contrasting with the soft lighting emitting from the candles.
It was a text. A text from Jimin.
You pursed your lips in thought before unlocking the device to read the full message.
From Park Jimin: I know we aren’t close... yet, but I’d love to have a shoulder to lean on and ear to listen to my current worries.
Jimin had worries? He had problems he wanted to talk about? You bit your bottom lip.
To Park Jimin: I can call you?
It took him a millisecond to reply. You chuckled.
From Park Jimin: Isn’t it better face to face?
You glanced out the window, the weather had gotten worse. It seemed like the storm could go on for days— weeks even if it wanted to.
But Jimin wanted to see you.
After thinking about it for a good few minutes, you realised you’d let your guard down for too long. When a guy wanted to meet you alone it usually led to sex and that was the last thing on your mind. Especially with a guy who didn’t hesitate to sleep with anyone he could get in his bed.
You scoffed.
To Park Jimin: Ask someone else.
There was no way you were going to give in this easily, no matter how badly you wanted to spend time with him— to be there for him and maybe, just maybe, let him take over your mind and body.
➢ Rule #1 never break a promise
Namjoon had been staring at your for a solid 13 minutes, waiting for a response— for anything. You hadn’t uttered a single word since you sat down.
You didn’t even reply to his meek little, ‘hi.’
He sighed, leaning forward to get some kind of attention from you. Sure, he hadn’t been hanging out with you all that much recently, but he invited you places and introduced you to Yoongi.
So, why were you ignoring him? Namjoon pouted.
You glanced at your phone one more time before sliding it into your bag, zipping it up tight to stop you from even thinking about him.
“Are you mad at me?”
Namjoon’s deep, but sad voice broke you out of your thoughts, drawing you back to reality— back to the world you lived in today. There was still a pout on his face.
“Of course not,” you immediately argued. “What’s made you ask that?”
“You,” he fought back. “You’ve been so distant recently.”
An argument was the last thing you expected when Namjoon asked you to hang out. Yet, here you two were, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and scoff’s parting either lips at the others retort.
“I’m not the one who’s been leaving their best friend for their boyfriend,” you muttered as you stood up, you missed the hurt expression that crossed Namjoon’s features. “I know I was the one who promised that we would always be together, but I thought it worked both ways.”
You left after saying what you thought was right.
Namjoon didn’t text you that night to apologise, but then again, did he have anything to apologise for? Could he say sorry for being in love? No, because that wasn’t fair.
The only person who had been texting you, because everyone and the whole world was mad at you, was Jimin. And to be honest, you kind of hated yourself for falling into his lies— lies that told you he cared about you.
But you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing the call button, at that moment, you decided to believe his lies and give in to the loneliness that surrounded you. Just for a little while— just enough to believe that someone like Jimin could be yours.
And then came his voice.
“Hello?”
You let your guard fall.
“Hey, about talking face to face,” you muttered. “Are you still up for that?”
“Yeah, of course! Are you okay?”
It was almost believable. Almost.
“Not really, I could use a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen to my worries,” you answered, mocking his text from a few nights before.
He chuckled.
“I’m here for you, y/n. I can meet you in 10 minutes.”
You agreed and hung up, lying on your bed, staring at the blank ceiling, watching the fan spin around and around and around. You let yourself fall deeper into his lies.
Jimin didn’t care, he didn’t care about anyone.
That’s what you told yourself, over and over again, yet here you were sitting next to him under the stars, the grass dry but cold from the night air and mind racing with thoughts upon thoughts.
The boy next to you held your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles, kissing it once, twice before tugging on it to get your attention. Just so, he could entrance you and draw you further into his trap.
“What’s on your mind then?” He asked.
You turned to look at him, eyes staring deeply into his, “I had a fight with Namjoon.”
Jimin hummed, urging you to continue— silently promising you that he was listening. That he was here for you in your time of need, that he had no other intentions but to make you feel better.
And you fell for it.
You told him what happened, what you said, and how you felt. You told him you were lonely and you missed spending time with Namjoon, but you also wanted him to be happy— and that obviously meant spending time with Jin.
Jimin coiled an arm around you, inviting you into his warmth. Kissing your temple, soothing your worries and letting you know it was going to be okay.
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” he spoke softly, hand brushing away stray hair. “He loves you and you mean a lot to him.”
A smile appeared on your lips at his response, lips meeting his cheek, “thank you, Jimin.”
You fell deep.
The next few days were spent in the company of Jimin, spent getting to know him, continuously sinking into his lies and letting him do as he pleased.
But, he made it believable, he made you believe he cared about you and that his feelings towards you were different from anyone else.
However, you still had your worries.
“Jimin,” you spoke softly, not wanting to be too loud due to the movie playing on TV. “There’s something that’s been on my mind.”
The boy turned to look at you, a smile playing on his lips, “what’s wrong, baby?”
You mentally cringed at the pet name.
“I don’t want to be another one of the toys you play with and throw away. I don’t want to get hurt and fall for your little game,” you stared deeply into his eyes, challenging him in some kind of way. “I don’t want to fall in love and get fucked over because all you wanted was sex.”
Jimin interlocked your hand in his, accepting your challenge by gazing back into your eyes, “I would never do that to you,” he said.
He said that. Jimin said he wouldn’t.
And you smiled.
➢ Rule #2 never stop loving
Namjoon was standing at your door, arms crossed, eyes cast away with Jin standing behind him. Because according to the broad-shouldered man this had been going on for too long.
He didn’t like seeing Namjoon sad.
“You two need to make up,” he said, shoving his boyfriend into the apartment. “Now.”
Namjoon still didn’t say anything but proceeded to sit down on your couch, arms still crossed, gaze now staring out the tall windows.
You sat down next to him, body facing his because you wanted to make things right. You missed him and his rambling and his philosophical words and his presence.
“I’m sorry, Namjoon,” you started, reaching for his hand. “I wasn’t myself when we had that argument, there was so much going through my mind, and then, before I knew it, I was walking away.”
Namjoon let you hold his hand, his stance softening and eyes finally meeting yours. He missed you too, a lot.
“I’m sorry too, y/n,” he muttered, inching closer to you. “You weren’t being distant, I was being inconsiderate.”
“No, Joonie. You have every right to spend time with your boyfriend.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I ignore you.”
You both sighed in unison, chuckles parting lips not too shortly after. There was nothing else left to say as you both forgave the other silently, but with genuine smiles.
Namjoon kissed your cheek, his lips soft against your skin, leaving flutters behind in your chest. The contact brought fleeting memories of Jimin kissing your temple, of him holding you close and becoming comfortable in your presence.
Your smile fell. However, it didn’t go unnoticed.
“What’s been on your mind then?”
Namjoon’s voice was soft, it was soothing, it was familiar— it was home.
You breathed.
“Park Jimin.”
His eyes widened, mind racing with red warning signs, “You said he—“
“I know,” you interrupted, staring into his dark brown eyes. “But he promised he wouldn’t hurt me.”
Namjoon nodded his head, stopping himself from arguing with you. He wanted the best for you and he knew that it wasn’t Jimin, but he also wanted to be there for you and support you no matter what.
He kissed your cheek once again, eyes meeting yours with a genuine smile showing his dimples.
You beamed.
“I love you, Joonie.”
➢ Rule #3 never hide anything
You were seated in your car, waiting for Namjoon to leave the cinema, waiting for him to kiss his boyfriend goodbye so you could drive him home. A tired sigh parted your lips, eyes glancing towards the doors every now and then. It was difficult to focus on one thing, especially with so much on your mind.
Jimin called you a few nights ago, and like the idiot you were, you answered. He wanted to meet up, go on that date he asked for several times, so you decided to give him a chance, and said yes.
But now you were overthinking everything.
You rolled your head against the headrest, eyes meeting the doors once again. Namjoon was walking out now. Hand in hand with Jin with a huge grin on his lips, and red cheeks.
He kissed his boyfriend goodbye before rushing towards the car. You smiled.
“Hey,” came his greeting. “Thank you for picking me up.”
You shrugged your shoulders, thinking nothing of it, “how was the movie?”
Namjoon blushed, clearing his throat as he buckled his seatbelt. You glanced at him, noticing he was too quiet— completely ignoring your question.
“You didn’t watch it, did you?” You teased.
Again he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stared out the window, watching tall buildings appear and disappear as you drove into the night. Maybe it was too soon to tease him.
You cleared your throat.
“I, er, I have something to confess,” you muttered after a second too long, completely changing the subject. “I’m meeting Jimin on Friday.”
That seemed to get your best friends attention, he turned his head to stare at you with wide eyes and utter bewilderment. He didn’t think you were actually going to give him a chance.
Namjoon shook his head.
“Why?”
You gulped, slowing down before the traffic lights, eyes ahead because you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the male next to you. A frustrated sigh parted his lips, he was facing the same silence he’d ridden you with.
“Y/n, I want the best for you—“
“I know,” you interrupted, accelerating once the lights were green. “But he asked for one chance, he said he wanted to at least try.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
You licked your lips, heart racing and ears burning. Again, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything as you parked in front of Namjoon’s building.
After turning off the ignition, you finally made eye contact with him, “I know how to look after myself,” you told him confidently. “I’ve been doing it for years now. You know this.”
Namjoon reluctantly nodded, “I do know,” he muttered, kissing your cheek. “Just know, I’ll break his arm if he hurts you.”
A chuckle parted your lips, but you nodded your head nonetheless before waving bye to a departing Namjoon.
You knew he meant well, and you were extremely grateful for it, but you were going to be okay.
➢ Friday night with Park Jimin
Hands perched in your jacket pockets and eyes staring at nothing in particular. You waited.
Jimin was across the street, a smirk on his lips while he watched you sigh in nothing but frustration, you hadn’t noticed him yet.
He chuckled.
You glanced at your watch before looking up again, scanning the crowds of people before making eye contact with the man you’d planned to meet with.
And your heart began racing.
“Hi, beautiful,” he winked, a smirk on his lips which didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands out your pockets to cross your arms instead. He really was out here testing your patience, who did he think he was?
“I was five minutes away from going home,” you told him sassily, shaking your head. “Now I’m thinking I should’ve left five minutes ago instead.”
“Don’t be like that,” he pouted.
You scoffed, playfully pushing him away before he could get too close. However, Jimin didn’t seem to get the message, because before you knew it, he was coiling his arms around you and drawing you in for a hug.
He smelt like burnt cigarettes and aftershave with a hint of lavender. It was nice, you liked it.
“Come on,” he muttered into your hair, pulling back a little to stare into your eyes. “Let’s start our Friday night date!”
You bit your bottom lip as you let him pull you along with him. Maybe, just maybe, this date wouldn’t be such a bad idea, maybe spending time with someone who had your heart racing and mind reeling... wasn’t such a bad idea.
Plus, he had a nice smile. You were smitten.
Jimin took you to his favourite restaurant, he didn’t focus on anyone except you, and he paid for your meal and then drove you home.
He spoke about his hobbies; he told you his favourite colour and what his mornings consisted of.
He held a genuine smile the whole night, his eyes shone brightly and his hand never left yours.
Park Jimin made you fall so deep that there was no way out of the rabbit hole. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to complain, not when you had a genuinely good time.
You even invited him into your apartment.
“Thank you,” you chuckled, taking the cup of hot chocolate from him. “Who knew you were so talented?”
Jimin playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing tone, a soft smile on his lips as he gazed into your eyes before focusing on his own cup.
He was quieter than usual— than he’d been all evening. You set your cup on the counter, taking him and setting it aside too before moving his hair away from his eyes.
Your touch was small and light, but he couldn’t help his heart from beating and eyes from darkening.
“I had a good time with you, believe it or not,” you said, tauntingly raising an eyebrow. “Thank you, Jimin.”
He chuckled softly, coiling his arms around your waist. Personal space didn’t exist when it came to him, he didn’t believe in such a thing. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore.
“I have that kind of effect on people,” he whispered, face inching closer by the second. Eyes dropping down to your lips. “I know you probably won’t believe me when I tell you that I care about you a lot, but—“
“Kiss me.”
It came out before you could think about it, it came out rushed and full of desperation, but at this point, you really couldn’t hold back anymore.
You were in too deep.
A deep chuckle resonated through your ears before you felt his soft, plump lips. They tasted like cherries as they slowly moved against yours, he hummed into the kiss before swiping his tongue across your bottom lip.
You opened your mouth, deepening the kiss. Asking for more, begging as you moaned into his mouth. He was a good kisser, his lips moved skilfully against yours while his arms pulled you tighter into his chest.
It got heated fast. You keened.
“Do you want this?” Jimin asked in a soft tone, eyes gazing deeply into yours. “I’ll wait a thousand days for you if I have to.”
You nodded your head, cupping his cheek and drawing him closer, “I do want this.”
For the first time since you met Jimin, even after hearing about his past, you were actually certain about the decision you were making.
All he had to do was keep his promise.
A gasp left your lips when you felt his fingertips dig into your skin, he wasn’t going to go easy on you, not when he’d been waiting so long for this, not when he’d spent endless nights awake because of you, and especially not when you were silently pleading for it as much as he craved it.
Jimin didn’t waste another second to re-connect his lips to yours; the kiss was rushed this time, but full of, oh so much, lust. It was as if he was making up for all the time he’d been pining after you. Waiting for you to give in so he could have you. Taint you with his mark. 
A moan fled your lips when you felt his right-hand travel down to your core, he was deliberate and sensual with his movements, more so he was purposely taking his time so he could observe your responses and listen to your whimpers while he teased your clit before sliding a finger in.
Narrowing his eyes, he curved his fingers that were inside causing you to whine and squirm under his grip. Jimin slid his fingers out and licked the moisture you had left behind while staring into your eyes.
“I think we better take this to the bedroom,” his voice was hoarse and deep, making you feel hotter than before.
It took nothing more than a second to fall onto your bed with Jimin on top, somehow while moving, however, he appeared to have removed your clothes as well as his jeans. Leaving you in nothing but your underwear.
Black lace fitted perfectly for your body.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he growled.
One of his hands crept up and took one of your breasts into his soft hand, rubbing, thumb brushing the sensitive skin, noticing the way your head was thrown back and your eyes are barely open, Jimin smirked widely at the pleasure he was causing you.
It was better than he could have ever imagined. He was so aroused by it all, he didn’t want it to end, but Jimin being Jimin, didn’t have the patience or sanity to go on for hours on end. He needed to feel you and he needed it now.
“Jimin,” you muttered in a low tone. “I want you.”
His eyes darkened even more.
“Please.”
And then he snapped.
There was no warning when he removed your pants or when he aligned himself and brutally entered until he bottomed out.
It didn’t take him long to begin a swift rhythm, thrusting in and out of you with ease, his groans progressively filled the area around you, blending with your cries.
The sound of skin against skin got harsher the quicker he got.
He was confident in what he was doing, and while he felt his release building up, he kissed your lips, needy and passionately, biting your bottom lip and sucking just as his thrusts became sloppier, he was close, and it all felt so good.
“Fuck,” you cried out when you felt his thumb on your clit again. “Jimin, I’m—”
“I know,” he gasped out. “Me too, princess.”
Jimin deepened his thrusts for the last few before letting his head fall in your neck coming deep inside; his fingers were still working on your clit as his last few thrusts elevated his orgasm.  
You moaned loudly one last time, coming with his member still inside. It felt hot and you were worn out, but fully sated and highly satisfied. It had to be the most pleasing and fulfilling orgasm you had in a long time.
“That was fucking amazing,” Jimin groaned in his thick deep voice before getting up to clean the mess he made. “You really brought the monster out in me, baby.”
You giggled drowsily at his exasperation and kissed his lips, once, twice, as soon as he came back with a soft, wet towel. His movements were forgiving and light; careful not to hurt you since he knew you were sensitive.
A smile adorned Jimin’s face when you noticed you were trying to stay awake, “you can go to sleep, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.
The next morning, when you woke up, he was gone.
➢ Once a liar, always a liar
You didn’t cry over boys, you didn’t even cry when your ex broke up with you. There was no point shedding tears over a boy who obviously didn’t care as much as you thought.
But for some goddamn reason, it was different when it came to Jimin. The very boy who pretended to care about you, the one who told he would always be there for you, the one who was only nice to you, so you would get into bed with him.
He only wanted one thing— and that was sex.
A sigh parted your lips, eyes unfocused and mind running with so many angry thoughts while you packed your bag.
Honestly, it was hard to stop the tears.
Jimin was a liar, he was a heartbreaker, he was inconsiderate and you wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so much, but honestly, you didn’t have the energy to.
Namjoon was waiting outside for you, eyes focused on his phone instead of paying attention to those around him. He only put it away when you tapped his shoulder, letting him know you were ready to go home.
“Do you want to head to the burger joint around the corner for an early dinner?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood. “We can invite Yoongi and Jin too.”
But, you shook your head, “you can go with them,” was your response, eyes focused on the colourless path. “I’m not really hungry.”
Namjoon chewed on his bottom lip, mind full of endless worries and the urge to break Jimin’s arm. He regretted the day he introduced you to him, as did Jin.
“Y/n,—“
“I’m just going to go ahead and go home,” you interrupted with a fake smile. You didn’t want nor need his sympathy, you brought this on yourself. “I’ll see you later, Joonie.”
He wasn’t given the chance to respond since you were gone before he could. A sigh parted his lips as he watched you disappear, maybe he should just give you the space you need.
Jimin did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t. And he broke you.
➢ Moving on is better than nothing
You were sitting on an old, torn couch with Yoongi next to you. There was a red cup in your hand filled with vodka and coke, a huge smile on your face and adrenaline coursing through your veins as the alcohol worked its wonders.
Yoongi was already gone, drinking straight vodka as if it was water. Namjoon and Jin, on the other hand, were sober for once, and they found you and Yoongi to be quite the amusing pair.
“Namjoon,” you giggled loudly, trying to narrow his four eyes to two. “Remember that night you named a plant Barry? That was so funny.”
Namjoon chuckled under his breath, glimpsing at his boyfriend before nodding his head. Because yes he did remember, that very plant he called Barry, is currently sitting on his coffee table back home.
“Y/n,” Jin spoke softly, rising from his seat to crouch next to you. “Maybe you and Yoongi should stop drinking, we don’t want you blackout drunk.”
You pursed your lips but did as you were told, allowing the broad-shouldered male to take your red cup and set it aside. Jin ruffled your hair before leaving you with Yoongi— probably going to go make out with Namjoon in a closet.
You laughed. Yoongi grinned.
The rest of the night was spent giggling over inside jokes with the male next to you, it was spent laughing at the drunks around you and having a genuinely good time with someone you enjoyed being with.
There was a wide grin on your face while you listened to Yoongi tell you another story. One about Jin sleeping on a wet patch and not realising it was actually his dog's pee. It was absolutely hilarious.
“He still doesn’t know,” Yoongi continued breathlessly with his mind running in drunken circles. “I wish I’d told him though. His reaction would’ve been so funny.”
You nodded in agreement, cheeks hurting from smiling so hard and abs aching from laughing so much. Hanging out with Yoongi made you forget all about Jimin, you didn’t even flinch when you made eye contact with the liar.
He didn’t deserve anything from you.
“Hey, Yoongs,” you nudged, gaining his lost attention, maybe he was too drunk for what you were about to suggest, but it was worth a try.
Yoongi hummed.
“Do you want to see a million shooting stars?” You asked.
Another soft chuckle parted the male's lips; he was too drunk to even register what you’d told him. Yoongi didn’t stop drinking after Jin told you to stop, but he was never one to listen so you weren’t surprised.
Jin, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy.
“What did I say about drinking?”
You pursed your lips while you watched the tall male scold the shorter one, head reeling with worries of getting in trouble. But, you weren’t the one who continued to drink, so why would you get in trouble?
“I didn’t drink,” you told Jin proudly like a child who won an award in school.
“But you let him drink, weren’t you with him?”
You frowned, “I was.”
“Well then?” Jin argued.
“Well, what?”
The male huffed in frustration, deciding it was helpless talking to you when you weren’t the soberest. Although, it was amusing.
You watched Namjoon help Jin take Yoongi to the car, who knew the fun would come to an end so quickly? It was only 2:30am, the night had just started and now it’d ended because of Yoongi.
Just as you were about to shrug it off, your eyes met with Jimin’s for the second time that night. Eyes that told you he wanted to get away from crowds, eyes that said he didn’t want to be at this party, and you took that pleading gaze as your queue to approach him.
Hands shoved into your hoody's pocket, you licked your lips and stared daringly into his eyes, “you want to head out? I know a place with a really nice view.”
He hesitated.
“It’s the most beautiful at 3am.”
Seventeen minutes were remaining.
And then he agreed.
➢ 3am talks atop building rooftops
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone, then.”
Jimin snorted, “like what?”
You hummed, eyes gazing at the star-lit sky, “like... who made you happy?”
Jimin glanced at you before following your sight to the sky, you weren’t wrong when you said it was the most beautiful at 3am. He found himself falling deeper into the sky, further into the stars.
“She was my best friend,” he started softly. “She was my first girlfriend, my first time, my first heartbreak and my last love.”
There was a heavy feeling in your chest; his words were all too familiar to your past. To your first lover, your first time, first boyfriend and first heartbreak.
A sigh left your lips, “if you didn’t let yourself fall into a vicious cycle of hurting others to get what you wanted, maybe, just maybe, you would be in love right now.”
Jimin’s eyes widened at your words, never had anyone called him out the way you just had. But then again, he’d never told anyone about his first and last love.
“But some habits die hard, I guess,” you added, eyes falling onto the city ahead.
The two of you were immediately plunged into silence because of your words. Because Jimin didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know how to argue back or how to redeem his status of, well, of, ‘soft-boy.’
He turned to stare at you before letting his eyes fall shut and head fall into his chest. He was fucked out, no pun intended, but he was a mess and he didn’t know how to clean it up.
“I hope you find your happiness, Jimin,” you finally said, finally looking at him. “Someone gentle with his or her words unlike me, but also someone who will love you without thinking twice.”
You left after what you had to say, leaving Jimin alone on the roof of the apartment complex, alone to think about his intentions.
Jimin wished he stopped you from leaving.
He wished he’d apologised for lying, for hurting you, for breaking your trust, and most of all, for breaking his promise.
He wished you’d yelled at him for being a dick, hurt him for hurting you, cursed him for being a liar and told him you’d hated him for it.
But you didn’t.
You deserved nothing but happiness and he took that away from you. There was nothing more he regretted than breaking your heart.
Jimin drowned in his own golden lies.
➢ Fresh raspberries mixed with butter cherries
It took a lot of begging to get Jin, Namjoon and even Yoongi to agree to what Jimin wanted to do. What he needed to do to make things right.
You were back at the hipster vibe cafe—the very one you were hauled to. It made you think Namjoon had a thing for dragging you to café’s, this very one in particular.
He frowned. Eyes on your laces like last time.
“Why is it whenever we come here, your laces are always untied?”
You shrugged, “why is it whenever we come here, you always drag me?”
Namjoon clicked his tongue before opening the door and pulling you into the warmth. There was a smile on your lips when your eyes met with Jin’s, and an even bigger smile when you spotted Yoongi.
But then he stepped aside and your smile fell.
It was Jimin.
“What’s he doing here?” You asked no one in particular.
Yoongi glanced at Jin, and Jin glanced at Namjoon, and Namjoon, well, he could only stare back at you. No one said anything, no one knew what to say to you. How were they supposed to tell you that Jimin begged and begged to see you?
“I asked them to bring you.”
All eyes landed on Jimin. He gulped.
“I wanted to speak to you, but I knew you wouldn’t answer my calls or reply to my texts,” he continued, hands hidden deep in his pockets. “This was the only way I could see you.”
You glanced at Namjoon before staring back at Jimin, mind running with so many thoughts of what he could possibly want to say. But you gave in.
“Come on,” you said, turning to leave the cafe. “Let’s walk and talk.”
Jimin didn’t hesitate to follow you out the café.
The walk started off silently, figured moving towards a park for some type of privacy. Because it’s not too busy on Tuesdays, no one would try to listen in on you yelling at Jimin.
If it led to that.
You sat down on an isolated bench and stared up at Jimin, the very boy who oozed nothing but confidence, was chewing his bottom lip out nervousness.
“Jimin—“
“I’m sorry,” he blurted. Eyes gazing deeply into your surprised ones, “I messed up. I broke my promise and fucked you over.”
Literally, you argued to yourself as you rolled your eyes.
“What’s the point of this?”
“I want to make things right,” he explained, taking a seat next to you. “I want another chance.”
You stared back at him gobsmacked, who did he think he was? Did he really think you were going to forgive him that quickly? You sighed.
“Look,” he spoke again—softly this time. “We can take things as slowly as you want, I just want you back in my life. You were one of the best things to happen to me and I fucked up like I always do.”
Jimin held onto your hand.
“Please.”
You felt your heart jump into your throat before plunging down into your stomach. He was serious about this. He really wanted to try.
“Okay,” you muttered after really considering it. “You get one chance.”
Jimin beamed, arms wrapping around your figure and squeezing tightly. He promised you that he would make up for breaking you apart, he would treat you right and never hurt you again.
You smiled.
“Hey,” Jimin spoke up while the two of you began your walk back to the café. “Your laces are untied.”
Glancing down at your old worn out, but favourite trainers, you laughed. It felt weird being with Jimin again— as a friend, yet, at the same time, something about it felt so right.
You had a feeling that was the last to his golden lies.
➴➶➴➶ 
A/N that was a wild rollercoaster but thank you for reading! 
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