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shrenvents · 19 days

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Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

That I’m a mutant…

That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can vividly imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that isn’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is only more strained as his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coating his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face of yours," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I guffaw, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."

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ninjaneonleon · 9 months

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A Clash of Feathers and Steel

Start

There was no helping him. Leo was lost to whatever curse the Crow had placed on him and he seemed to be not only willing but actively embracing the situation. Donnie couldn’t tell how much was Leo and how much was the curse at this point.

“What’s wrong, Othello? Can’t find the beat?” Leo snickered, flapping his wings and sending a small wave of water at Donnie. He had to jump to avoid being knocked over.

“You were never this much of a jerk before,” Donnie grumbled, pirouetting and sending the same back at Leo. He spotted on Leo, watching as his twin gracefully landed in an arabesque after the leap.

“That’s because I never had a reason to be!”

As much as Donnie wanted to talk Leo out of this, he knew it wouldn’t do a thing. Leo was too far gone and if Donnie’s family talking to him on his bad days did nothing, there was no way Donnie talking to Leo now would help.

So he did the one thing he was hoping to avoid. Donnie held out his hand and summoned his staff. It was different from what he could recall his old tech bō looked like, it was slimmer, longer and more elegant. Like it was made from starlight, delicate but enduring and unchanging.

Upon seeing the weapon, Leo let out a gurgling hiss. It sounded closer to a crow’s caw than a turtle’s hiss and it made Donnie’s feathers stand on end.

“So we’re getting dangerous, are we?” Leo spat. “Fine. I had hoped that this interaction would be different, but you’re leaving me no choice!” He flapped his wings once, twice, and two long feathers fluttered down from the tips. Leo grabbed them as they lengthened into midnight rapiers that shimmered with frozen moonlight. No doubt they’d be just as sharp a steel.

“I don’t want to do this, Leo! I want to help you and get you home!” Donnie cried, getting into a defensive position.

“That’s all I want to do for you!” Leo shot back, readying his swords. Even when on the brink of battle, Leo was just as graceful as Donnie.

The two collided with an echoing scream, the cacophony of metal on metal. This fight was as much a dance as it was a fight for their lives and honestly, as scary as it was, Donnie had never felt so alive.

This is why he was here.

This is what he was meant for.

Leo’s snarl was poisonous, his glare deadly from his shimmering blue eyes. Donnie gave as good as he got. He would defend himself and his Lake with his life.

Then Donnie got a good hit on Leo, sending him flying from the water and to the bank. His twin didn’t get up, his wings shrinking back down to be the little feathered tufts behind his shell.

“Leo?” Oh god no, had Donnie actually gone too far?! “Leo?!”

Donnie was by Leo’s side in an instant, shaking his shoulder gently to wake up, please wake up. He felt two forms approaching. Donnie didn’t care who they were, they would stay back. He hissed in their direction, his wings spreading wide. Donnie would protect Leo until he woke up, until his twin was okay again. The two figures backed up and Donnie relaxed minutely.

Then Leo groaned.

“Donnie?” His eyes were hazy as they opened, no pain present but also none of that shimmering blue energy. “Donnie, is that you?”

“Oh thank god. Yes, hi, it’s me.” Donnie scooped Leo up and hugged him close, fated enemies or whatever they were be damned.

“I feel weird. What happened?” Wait, Did Leo not remember anything at all?

“You made a bargain with someone bad,” Donnie explained gently, refusing to let Leo go. “They made you into a crow, Leo. Like how I’m a swan.”

“Couldn’t have been a black swan, could it?” Leo weakly joked with a snort. “We’re twins, and it would have been better to be opposites.” That’s how Donnie knew Leo was back to himself. He was making terrible jokes again.

“Yeah, well, apparently the crow has no taste.”

They’d figure this out, they’d figure out how to free Leo and get him home. Donnie finally understood what his family was going through. If what he was feeling was even close to what they’d been going through for how every long he’d been the Lake Guardian… well maybe it was time for Donnie to find his way home too.

So part 4 is a thing now! I have maybe a couple more parts to add but not many, this was just a little idea that came to me while I was bored at work, lol

Still, thank you so much guys for your support! I’m glad you’re enjoying my ramblings.

@tangledinink @dryad-druid

Part 5

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #fic writing #swanatello #crownardo

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internet-sadass · 4 months

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An Eye For An Eye (Peter Strahm x female reader)

Blurb: you gave Strahm some hickies he can't hide so he's giving you a limp no one will miss.

Warnings: anal sex, anal fingering, spanking, dom/sub undertones, punishment, mild humiliation/degradation

"Have a fun time last night?" Perez asked, shooting Strahm a grin.

Strahm had blissfully forgotten about the little 'reminder' you'd left him on his neck. You hadn’t even had the decency to leave it just an inch lower so it was below his shirt collar. Not only that, but it wasn’t just one hickey, it was a cluster of them that almost merged together to form a mega-hickey. It looked like a cricket ball had collided with the side of his neck and left a nasty purple bruise behind.

"Don't...just don't." Strahm was in no mood to explain or to be teased today. He'd faced enough annoyance already this morning, desperately trying to figure out a way to cover the damn thing up. Apart from wearing a scarf all day, he'd accepted his fate and the stares he was going to get for the next week or two until the hickies healed.

"I'm just glad you're able to relax a bit and let off some steam in your down time." She said, smiling. "Seems like whoever you were with last night also let out some serious frustration."

Letting out a long sigh, Strahm willed himself to hold it all together right now and ignore the looks some of the other agents milling around were giving him. At least Hoffman wasn't here. He knew that bastard would practically jump for joy at the chance to harass him about a singular hickey, let alone nearly five of them.

"Agent Strahm, have you-"

Oh fuck, speak of the devil , Strahm thought, wishing the ground would open and swallow him up.

Hoffman had a smirk playing on his full lips. His blue eyes met Strahm’s then dropped to the mottled bruising adorning the right side of his neck. Strahm glared at the shorter man, hoping the intensity of his gaze would be enough to deter Hoffman from opening his mouth.

"Are those lovebites?" Hoffman didn't even try to keep his voice down, practically announcing his question to the whole building. He took a step closer, squinting at Strahm's neck in an exaggerated fashion. Strahm wanted to sock him right in his stupid smug face.

"They’re not damn ‘lovebites’, Detective Hoffman." Strahm said through gritted teeth. Composing himself, he tried to think of a realistic excuse for what had caused the mottled bruising on his neck. He drew a total blank and instead figured he should tell Hoffman in a professional manner to shut the fuck up about the hickies.

"It's interesting that the condition of my neck is such a concern to you when we have far bigger things to worry about like a killer still being active and on the loose." Strahm hoped this response was enough to get Hoffman to stop focusing on the condition of his neck and actually start being a pain about something less humiliating.

Hoffman's smirk remained plastered on his face, making him look incredibly punchable (in Strahm's eyes, at least).

"I was expressing my concern for you, Agent Strahm. It looks like something tried to maul your neck." Hoffman spoke loud enough that those milling around them heard his comment and tried to subtly look over at the confrontation going on between the two men.

“Plus,” He continued, “I could say the same thing for you. Going out and fooling around with whoever it is you're running with doesn't scream 'I'm dedicating everything I have in me to solving this case'. Seems likes your priorities are in the wrong place."

Dumbfounded at the nerve of Hoffman to say something like that in their fucking workplace, Strahm just stood for a few moments, staring at the shorter man with a look of utter contempt.

Gathering up what was left of his shredded dignity, Strahm cleared his throat and decided to close this conversation before Hoffman could start speculating anything else about his sex life.

"Well, standing around debating what I should or shouldn't be doing in my free time isn't helping us make any progress so I suggest that we start discussing something actually relevant."

Hoffman gave the hickies one last look, raising an eyebrow at Strahm then glancing at Perez, before walking off, satisfied that he’d caused Strahm enough angst for that morning.

***

Throughout the day, the topic of the markings on Strahm's neck came up, whether explicitly through comments or implicitly through the confused or concerned looks people were giving him.

In the late afternoon, Strahm got a moment to himself, and dashed off to the bathroom to 'admire' the damage you'd done to his neck. He groaned looking at it. It was a vivid purple mass, so dark in places that not even concealer could have bought him a little more dignity and lessened the shock value.

Sighing, he splashed water on his face, readying himself to return and preserve with his job. But later, oh later he was going to teach you a lesson you wouldn't forget.

***

"Hey, how was wo-"

"Get in here!"

You'd barely had the chance to greet Strahm before he'd pulled you into his apartment and slammed you up against the closed front door. He held you there, a fist tangled in your hair, pinning you to the door. A muscle in his jaw twitched as you stared up at him, wide-eyed like a caught rabbit. A tremble of fear and arousal travelled through your body.

"Peter-"

"Do you have any idea the shit I've had to put up with today because of this?" He hissed, pointing to the hickies you'd oh-so kindly given him last night. "Not just from that bastard Hoffman, but from every fucking person I walked past today. All of them, giving me this look like I'm some sort of disgraced pervert."

The fist in your hair was yanked, making your body bang against the door. Strahm's short temper and hot-headed nature was something you were used to, but this was a whole new level of it you'd never seen. Regardless, the way he was already manhandling you and putting you in your place was making arousal blossom in your belly. You gripped your thighs together, letting the friction of your jeans give you a bit of relief.

"I'm sorry, I just got carried away last night." It was the honest truth. You'd been too absorbed in grinding on his thigh to consider that the placement of the various hickies you were sucking onto his neck was too high up for him to be able to hide them.

"Just got carried away." Strahm parroted your words in a low, dangerous whisper. He looked away for a moment, blinking like he always did when he was frustrated.

His gaze came back to rest on you.

"If I have to walk around with a collection of fucking hickies the size of a small country on my neck, you have to limp the rest of the week." He spoke slowly, spelling out your punishment with deliberate and weighted words.

It took you a few moments to connect the dots and figure out what Strahm had planned for you.

Oh , you thought, heart sinking and stomach twisting in on itself, he was going to absolutely break you.

***

Although Strahm had initially made you count every stinging slap that bounced off the walls of his apartment, after a certain point he’d given up on forcing you to speak. Hearing you gasp, whine, and beg him to ‘be gentle’ was far more enjoyable than listening to you struggle to count the number of times he’d hit your mottled ass. The collage of angry red slap marks was slowly turning into a mass of bruises, meaning you yelped even louder than before when he laid another spank across your ultra-sensitive flesh. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, bent over the back of the leather couch, hands tied behind your back, forced to endure slaps from both his hand and his belt. It could have been hours, or it could have been a measly twenty minutes. However, right now, you didn't have it in you to figure out which of those two options it was. Your brain had turned to mush, and you were only capable of letting out pathetic sounds and wincing.

“You learnt your lesson yet, hm? I don't think you’re going to be able to sit properly for at least a few days.” Strahm whispered to you, purposefully bending over you so the fabric of his slacks would grind against your raw skin. He was so hard that you could feel his cock pulsing in time with his quickened heartbeat. A feeble groan left your lips.

A hand gripped your hair and wrenched your lolling head up, turning it to the side so you were forced to look up at him.

“Answer.”

“Y-yeah, I have.” You said breathlessly. “Don’t even think I’m gonna be able to walk.”

Strahm chuckled, releasing your head, running a hand down your naked back. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps thanks to the coldness of his apartment.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It's just a little bit of bruising.” He said, drawing back from you to look at the ‘little bit of bruising’ covering the entirety of your backside and spilling onto your upper thighs.

You heard him walk away into another room, and you weakly tried to look at where he’d gone to. The pain warming your lower body seemed to radiate upwards, making every muscle ache like you’d simultaneously strained all of them. Turning your head to try to get a view behind you made you flinch.

Strahm returned, carrying a small bottle you knew all too well. He caught your gaze and saw your expression turn.

“Oh, you thought we were finished here?” He asked, his tone mocking and bitter.

He looked dangerous right now, with his cuffs rolled up over his forearms and a smirk on his face. The bottle lid was flipped open, and he squeezed some clear fluid onto his fingers. He was merciful enough to grip your calf rather than your thigh to shift your legs open.

A shiver ran through you as you felt the cold slimness of lube against your hole.

“Sorry darling, I know it's cold.”

That was the first bit of softness Strahm had shown you this evening, and the pet name made you squirm. However, the softness was short lived, as he circled your rim with his fingertips, making sure it was completely coated before he started to work his fingers past the tight ring of muscle. A glob of lube trickled down over your neglected cunt, sending another shiver through your body. You bit your already torn up lip as his two fingers filled you, sinking into the tight muscle of your ass until they were fully hilted in you. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before starting to scissor his fingers, working you open, reminding you that he was doing the bare minimum here to prep you.

The fingers slipped out of you, leaving your hole at least a little more pliable and loose than before. You listened as Strahm’s slacks hit the floor, and he stepped out of them. At this point, you’d totally resigned yourself to taking his punishment without complaint. The firm head of his cock, cold from the lube, pressed against your rim as a hand gripped your hip to keep you still. More pressure was applied until Strahm felt his crown breach the firm ring of your hole and delve into the velvety flesh of your insides. He watched himself sink into you, his dick standing out against the purple and red of your abused flesh, groaning as he felt himself fill you.

“P-please, it’s too much-” You stammered, pathetically trying to struggle away from him. The stretch of his thick, veined cock in your ass had jolted you out of your apathy.

The grip on your hip tightened.

“Yeah? Too much, huh?”

Strahm’s tone was practically poisonous. Like a prey animal, you froze.

He rammed the last two inches of himself into you, his hips colliding with your bruised backside, making you cry out like a struck dog. He held himself there, adjusting to the vice grip your ass had around him, so tight it was almost painful, purposefully grinding his skin against your own to elicit some more whimpers from you. Leaning over you, the silk of his tie brushed against your back, making your skin twitch.

“If it's too much, how come you are taking me” Strahm interrupted himself as he began to thrust into you, punctuating each word in the rest of his remark with a sharp snap of his hips. “So. Fucking. Well.”

He didn’t expect an answer, and you didn't give one, your mouth hanging agape as fresh tears welled in your eyes. It hurt like hell to have him stuffing his impressive length into a hole which had only ever taken the smallest size of plug you could find. Despite how badly the stretch of your walls stung, there was slick leaking between your thighs. He was stretching you out so well and rutting into with such force that it felt like he was literally re-arranging your guts. Each thrust elicited pain and pleasure in equal measure, as the slap of his hips against your ass made all the bruises and welts sting.

Strahm happily used you, taking all the frustration that had built up that day and letting it fuel the vigorous movements of his hips. It felt downright cruel to do this to you; however, he was hell-bent on ‘teaching you a lesson’ and making sure you had a limp that you, nor anyone around you, couldn't ignore. Besides, he could feel how wet you were every time his balls hit against your lips, so it wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying the ‘lesson’ he was doling out.

It took a great deal of skill for Strahm to pull out before he exploded inside you. Although it would have been easier for him to just cum inside you, he had something else in mind for how he wanted this to end. Jerking his engorged and lubed-up dick over you, he let ropes of cum adorn your marked-up ass and puffy rim. The salt of his seed made the welts left from his belt sting, but you were too exhausted to even react to the discomfort.

Standing back from you, light-headed from his orgasm, Strahm admired the sight of you, slumped over the back of the couch, your legs limp and trembling. Judging by the colour of your cheeks and the way your hole stayed slightly open, he could confidently say that you’d be limping for as long as he had to deal with the mess on his neck.

An eye for an eye , Strahm thought as he offered you his arm to lean on as he led you to the bathroom to get you cleaned and patched up.

#peter strahm #peter strahm x reader #peter strahm x female reader #strahm x reader #strahm x reader smut #peter strahm smut #peter strahm x female reader smut #saw smut #saw fanfic #peter strahm saw #peter strahm fanfic #strahm smut #saw x reader

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moonbuglove · 9 months

Text

Ten seconds

I felt like some BokuAtsu from Atsumu's p.o.v.

In-Yun

The concept of “In-Yun” speaks about fate and predestination. It says that the lives you lived previously, and how the minute connections we make throughout our time in this world, reverberate through the layers of life until they finally coalesce for people to find each other

I don’t believe in fate. “The universe” is not some omnipotent force moving us around like chess pieces, manipulating us or protecting us or colliding us. Work hard, good things happen. Or not.

It’s life.

A cosmic crapshoot in which odds don’t mean shit. I’m more fatalism, less fate. With that said, I do believe circumstances happen in a certain order at a certain time. And for a certain reason. Which does sound suspiciously like fate, but I dwell less on the why things happen and more on how I should respond when they do. I sense storms coming, things shifting in the air. That helps me plan. It’s helped me in every area of my life, especially volleyball. But nothing prepared me for this moment. And it is a game of truth and dare, that is my downfall.

A dare that should be so insignificant.

Kiss Bokkun.

But nothing is simple when it comes to him.

Golden eyes with flecks of amber and bourbon in them tracing my features as he placed his hand on the side of the barstool and turned me completely around to face him. Treating me to an up close view of that classic Bokuto Kōtarō beam that reminded me that I’ve never seen him take anything seriously. He’s always smiling, laughing and joking his way through life, completely oblivious to the reality the rest of the world just has to deal with, so it shouldn’t have surprised me he would approach a literal child’s game the same way. My knees brushed his hard thighs, and I felt every eye in the living room on us as he leaned in close, resting his palms on the edge of the island. His body stretched over mine, blocking out my view of our teammates behind me. Not that I cared that I couldn’t see them. I was too focused on the way his smile was fading, shifting into a complex mask devoid of humor. I’m shocked at how quickly he does it. Goes from being the happy-go-lucky guy I’ve known him to be to…this. “Make it good for him, Bo-san” Shōyō shouted, laughing loudly, obviously drunk and I half expected him to turn around and say something stupid and completely on brand for him, but his eyes stayed on me.

Soft.

Serious.

For once in his life.

"Nervous?” He asked, eyes on my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “Nope. Why would I be nervous?” His brows lifted, amusement slipping over whatever conflicted emotion was shining in his irises just moments ago. “Because you don’t really do this kind of thing Tsum-Tsum, you know you don't have to right?" “What kind of thing?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice wavered a little. “Play truth or dare?” “Get roped into kissing teammates, unless.” He gets a far off look in his eyes something on the tip of tongue but he leaves it unsaid. The truth of the matter was, the worst decisions I’ve made in my life have been sealed with a kiss. Get ready to add this one to the list. The snarky voice in my head quipped as Kōtarō waited for my response, completely unbothered by the restless crowd behind him begging for us to get on with it already. “Oh? You jealous I have never kissed ya Bokkun?” I arched a brow, sass coating each word. “Maybe, maybe not,” He chuckles a deep and dangerous chuckle that makes my hands feel clammy. “Then I guess we should kiss before Hinata shoves our heads together.” "Yeah, I guess we should.” I watched his face move closer, and his breath skated across my skin as I fought the very real urge to let my eyes fall shut. My lungs burned, demanding air that was laced with his earthy scent and protesting when they were denied. I knew I needed to breathe. I didn’t want to run the risk of passing out and giving everyone here another reason to think I was weird. It was bad enough that I was known for the most casual of hook ups. Crumbling into a breathless heap the moment one of the most coveted pair of lips in the world of volleyball met mine would only make it worse. Kōtarō lifted one of his hands, bringing it up to my chin and cupping it between his index finger and thumb. With a barely discernible movement, he applied the lightest bit of pressure, forcing me to focus all of my attention on him. “Breathe for me Atsumu." He whispered, the quiet command pulling the trapped air from my lungs and giving me a glimpse of a side of him I’ve never seen before.

Dark.

Dangerous.

Lethal.

My eyes went wide, shock winding its way through my chest to mix with the mild panic being held in his gaze has sent through me. "Can I kiss you?" I nod not trusting myself to speak, but he shook his head. "I need words, to know if this is ok. I need to hear you say I can kiss you." All at once, I start to doubt the wisdom of going through with this dare, of breaking one of my personal rules to appease a room full of stupid drunk adults playing middle school games to distract us from adulting. "Yeah, you can kiss me." He smiles not the beam, no a small smile like it is a inside secret that we only know then Kōtarō’s lips are on mine. Taking me by a surprise that’s equal parts delight and terror as his tongue slids over my bottom lip asking for more. His arms snakes around my hips keeping me in place, which meant I couldn’t move if I wanted to, so I gave myself over to it. Over to him. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, but it’s not. Because Kōtarō pulls people in, but it takes a special type of person to keep his attention on them. And I was dragged into his orbit, albeit unwillingly at first drawn to his aura but now... now I don't think I want to lose his attention, random scooting closer to steal the others warmth, during late night bus rides after a match, accifental late night snack runs and stargazing in the roof of our dorms. Have all lead up to this moment. A grin curled against my mouth, prompting me to stop suppressing my own. "Yer a good kisser Bokkun." "Not so bad yourself Tsum." I snort pushing him back slightly, but his eyes stay on my lips. I open my mouth to retort trapped in our own little bubble. "Well damn get a room." Inunaki breaks our bubble we created then he is back to Bokkun laughing alomg with our teammates. I roll my eyes as I get up.

"I'm getting another drink." I say as I leave the room, I keep replaying those ten seconds in my head, of Kōtarō's lips against mine. I realized that this was an awakening. There weren’t any fireworks, it was more like being in a freefall, a rush that I could feel in my entire body while my heart raced a few feet ahead, like it was more susceptible to the gravitational pull. It's a million bolts of electricity reviving a stalled heart. It’s reckless, but beautiful.

Ten seconds is all it takes to make me realize it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and, though I have no way of knowing this for sure, it is also my biggest mistake.

#bokuatsu #miya atsumu #msby atsumu #bokuto koutarou #hq bokuto

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kovacs-of-courage · 11 months

Text

Cor Unum Ch-1

This is chapter 1 of a compilation of oneshots on A03, if you like this--go check the rest of it out! It's called Cor Unum and is listed on my A03 works

----------------

“There’s too many of them, they’re going to catch up with us soon.”

Wild rasped through bloodied breath, and shredded pleura. Breathing was torture, a hundred knives sawing his throat up from his chest. He’d been hit by an arrow, a lucky shot by a now-dead bokoblin that’d collided directly into his ribs, and then lung.

“I can stay behind--buy time.”

It was easy, almost compulsory for him to offer his own life for those of others. Wild knew that all of his brothers would do the same for him. It might be fate that begets these circumstances upon him again and again, or his stubborn refusal to accept his own limitations.

A short, tired laugh greeted his offer. More of a humorous exhale than anything. Neither of them had the energy to do much more than survive at the current moment.

“I’m glad to see you still have faith in my abilities. What kind of knight would I be if I left my men behind?”

Valor continued in step, unflattered by the suggestion, as he was by the distant hollers and heavy footfalls of the monsters behind them--always coming ever closer. The captain had Wild’s right arm curled around his neck and shoulders, keeping hold of his hand as they limped through the forest.

Wild opened his mouth to counter, and was interrupted by the ignition of fire and charred splinters that’d marked a tree beside them. A fire arrow from the oncoming band of monsters managed to find their position. He could recognize the heat, and the swallowing boom of its shockwave anywhere. He wasn’t happy to be on the other end of it, though.

The blast sent them reeling to the ground, their tunics stained with a charming mixture of dirt and blood. Wild tried getting up, to middling success. He was on the last legs of his energy, and having to balance that with one working lung wasn’t making that easier.

He fell to the ground again, another maelstrom of flaming bark whipping over their heads.

They were getting closer.

Wild reached for his bow, determined, and ready to sacrifice everything for the survival of his brother. A hero was only as good as the odds against them.

Valor had a different idea, however, lifting the younger hero’s body onto his shoulders, and around his head. He grunted at the effort, the battle, and the near-direct impact of the fire arrows had taken something out of the man.

“Don’t waste your breath, goddess knows you don’t have much of it.” Valor panted.

Valor eyed the coming mob of monsters, putting his freehand to his belt.

“When our comrades stumble, and fall, we carry them until they are strong again.”

A volley of arrows soared by their heads, narrowly missing them.

Valor didn’t falter.

“That’s how it is.”

The monsters were close, nearly on their necks.

Valor readied himself.

“And that’s how it’ll always be.”

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

fall from grace

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?”

“Your name.”

REQUEST/WARNINGS. (royal au, mutual pining, praise kink ) fake dating au, mirror sex, slight manhandling, fingering, body marking, prejudice, mentions of abuse, injustice, and inequality + unedited (I’m so lazy to edit tbh, I’m so sorry, just bear with me if there are typos or grammatical errors)

NOTES. I LOVE AND HATE THIS STORY

WC. 7k+

SONG INSPO. Ashes (Celine Dion)

The prince himself lifted his chin up higher; long, slender fingers deftly grazing against the pad of your knuckles that were pressed on his chest.

The tips of your ears burned at the sight of people pausing from their conversations all to witness the scene – one that was so rare to have come from the infamous Crown Prince known to have bedded more women than he could count.

“Your Highness,” you pinched your brows together, leaning closer into him to bring you the least bit of comfort. The dress you had to wear today had nothing but itchy lace; albeit elegant, you preferred the loose materials of your dance clothes, painted red lips fighting back a grimace. “Must we really do this in public?”

The Crown Prince laughs, his white hair fluttering against the soft kisses of the wind. Beautiful, you think, beautiful, you are reminded, prompting you to dig your free hand deeper into the flesh of your thighs.

“What would be the point of our ruse if we are not a little flashy, My Lady?”

You frowned at his words, head ducked down as you avoided everyone’s prying eyes. You supposed you should be used to this – you are a performer, after all – but the attention was terribly unwelcomed yet expected from your previous agreements.

The said agreement, however, did not affect your standing as a person, something you had to remind the happy-go-lucky Prince. “I am not of that title.”

“People regard you of it,” he commented at an off-beat, his crystalline eyes sweeping over the crowd with a chilling command, a slight bite of a challenge that asked his people to dare him. When they shifted away, scurrying behind fluffed up skirts and pressed down suits, the Crown Prince snickered, smiling down at you with a flash of his pearly whites. “You are, after all, hanging prettily off my arm.”

“Because you asked me to, Your Highness.”

“Ah, are you forgetting already?” he paused, his long and elegant stature towering over yours. “I’m doing this for the both of us. The agreement was clear – you steered me away from my arranged marriage, redeem my nettling reputation, and in turn, I shall pick you up from where you’ve fallen,” your lips parted in protest, finger raised to correct that no, you had not fallen, that was not the situation at all, but he silenced you when he leaned down close enough that his eyes twinkled before you, lips turned at the side arrogantly. “In fact, I am more than capable of providing you more than that.”

“I am well aware of that, Your Highness. I truly am indebted to you.”

Should you be humiliated? Forming an agreement with the Crown Prince would be the last thing that would ever arrive even in your craziest dreams, yet there you were, in the middle of the town square, leisurely strolling with the Kingdom’s heir as if it was but a daily occurrence.

Thoughts running back to your latest predicament – which he just had to bear witness to – you winced, swallowing the resigned sigh that threatened to spill.

You did not have enough shame in you to be humiliated, not when he was right. It was a mutually beneficial agreement.

“You do not have to be,” Prince Satoru blinked at you, gray lashes fluttered against the pads of his cheeks. “I take extreme pleasure in saving a damsel in distress,” Your lips puckered out, tireless with the need to tell him it wasn’t like that, and the Prince easily read through you, tugging you back into his arm as he laughed. “Even when I know you are not. Still, it does feel nice to take a walk in this fine day, don’t you think?”

You snorted at the heavy sarcasm under his sweet tone, “It feels a little embarrassing.”

“You feel embarrassed that you’re with me?”

“Yes,” you gritted at your teeth, the lace of your gloves digging into your flesh. You wanted nothing more than to rip it off, the material a silent reminder of the requirement that must be met to fool the crowd. “You’re a prince and I am—”

“I thought we already established titles mean nothing when we both mutually benefit from one another,” he cut you off, hands coming up to caress at your cheeks. You immediately froze at his touch, the iciness behind those eyes doing nothing to soothe you until he spoke, the Prince’s words oddly gentle and warm like the sun that shone down on you that fine day. “Worry not about that. I do not care what people think of you. All I care is that you do well and I shall do my part gracefully in return,” he declared for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

Back then, you never believed that people had power just because they were born with it. Power had to be manifested, trained, earned – yet Prince Satoru wielded it with his lips so effortlessly that in that moment, you believed magic really wasn’t a myth.

“Kiss me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Everyone is looking,” his eyes darted over the on looking crowd, his bare hand still caressing your warm cheeks, hot enough that it put the sun to shame. “Lest you want this plan to fail, I suggest you kiss me, darling. Passionately.”

The Crown Prince was right. Everyone was looking.

Your body’s response was instantaneous. A hiss of a breath, muscles tensed and fingers curled into a fist at your side; you could feel bile rising from your throat out of panic.

Then Prince Satoru leaned forwards, eyes snapped shut and his lips colliding with yours. The single touch had all the tension flooding away as you kissed the Prince, his lips tasting of cinnamon and sugar, vanilla and spice wafting off of him delicately that you had to fist at the collar of his shirt to prevent yourself from gobbling him up whole.

He would find that rather displeasing, claiming that you had little to no table manners, so you forced yourself to relax as he breathed air into your mouth, large hands cradled around your neck.

“I’ve got you,” he mumbled between kisses, the mere scent of royalty and forbidden elegance dripping off of him making you fearful to open your eyes. It felt illegal to touch the most wanted bachelor in your Kingdom this way, felt wrong to have his hands roaming down the slopes of your body while everyone looked at your shameless public display of faux romance. But if it was wrong, then why did he hold you so tenderly, not moving to push you away even as you nipped at his lips once more?

“You’re alright – I’ve got you.”

It was not easy being a no-name ballerina. You’ve crafted your skill for what seemed like your whole life, yet getting even a step closer to your dreams proved to be a daunting task. Even as your toes bruised and your muscles ached, pants heaved from your chest while you bended your body at will, you couldn’t stop thinking about how no one told you it was never easy to reach your dreams.

The fairytales had lied to you. They made it seem to easy to grab a star, never really explaining on how to be a star.

It felt so far away – the galaxy and universe you’d longer your entire life to be a part of – yet the Crown Prince stood at the corner of your studio, eyes dark as he watched you sway to the music.

A few weeks prior to your spontaneous arrangement, you were foolish enough to believe you could become that star easily. You were the lowest of ranks when it came to other girls; orphaned, no-named, broke, and loveless.

Unlike your peers that were bred of the finest titles and fed with silver spoons, nannies and courts running after them in their growing years, you had to survive on scraps, taking three jobs at the young age of thirteen just to get into dance school and afford the fees.

You believed title or ranking shouldn’t have had to do anything with talent and worth, but then again, you were foolish beyond your years.

The moment you heard you were chosen to be the Black Swan of this season, allowing you to debut, you squealed behind your skirt, training day and night to the point you’ve skipped your meals just to perfect your routine.

That was until your classmates’ parents had come inside the school, twirling their moustaches behind soft fingers that had never known a day’s worth of work, belly round with cupcakes and all the delicacies only they were privileged enough to eat, the nervous laughter of your ballet master enough to let you know what it all meant.

Your classmate – the prettiest and the richest one – came rushing past you as she giggled over the announcement that she would be the Black Swan.

She was far many years younger than you, spoiled and with an attitude that tasted as bad as your leftovers, and definitely not skilled enough to debut – but of course, nothing was ever impossible enough with money, right? Before you could even defend yourself, your ballet master had cleaned out your quarters, your skirts and shoes thrown onto the muddy dirt while you cried under the rain, begging for another chance.

Second chances? You wanted to laugh.

Only people who did wrong should ask for it, and yet you sat there on your knees, hands clasped in a prayer that should only be reserved for wish bearers, desperate pleads of please don’t do this to me echoing into the empty night.

Was it fate then that the Crown Prince was half drunk inside his vehicle, shades slipping off his nose as he turned your way, your cries rudely interrupting the music blaring inside his car?

Perhaps it was – a cruel or a wonderful fate; no one could tell – the only thing that mattered now was that the Crown Prince had yet again found interest in a woman.

Only this time he didn’t lust after their body, wished nothing to do with their hands on his, completely sober around your presence as he watched you train endlessly in your studio, your sweat making your clothes stick like a second skin.

Prince Satoru leaned back against the walls then.

He should’ve brought a drink with him. Had he known that watching you dance sensually with such a blissed out expression he was mostly familiar with when he had his legs wrapped around another warm body would set his body alight, sober, then he would’ve left long ago.

Still, the Prince is rendered frozen at the edge, eyes trailing over your graceful form as you bended, legs flying out into the air while you arms dipped and curved into the most graceful of arcs and bows that put his combat figures into shame.

You weren’t even trying to seduce him and yet he was wholly captivated.

He wants to say that the woman he saw that rainy night and the woman stood before him now, figure bathed in the small slivers of sunlight that peeked through the blinds and stockings hugging each and every curve and dip of your body were entirely two different people, but the longer he looked, there was no mistaking it was still the same person. The passion burned through your eyes, the soft melodious tunes of the music guiding you – or rather you guiding the beat before you fluttered to another.

Prince Satoru smiled.

It first came off as a joke that he wanted to know more about you – his pretend lover – because everyone knew the Crown Prince was too frivolous to ever settle down and find interest in a woman beyond her looks. The confused pout you gave him as he followed you inside your studio burned at the back of his brain, a silent warning that you were different; that you were not someone he could touch lest he wished to burn and break you, though that would be a lie, it seemed.

For every strong ripple of your muscles and flowy movement of your body as you completely delved into the space of your own home and comfort, the Prince knew – you were not someone he could crush into the palm of his hands.

He came here out of boredom.

He left the studio with a confused heart, cheeks resting on his palm as he asked his chauffer, when is the next show?

The birds chirped above you, your fingers stretched out as you peeked from under it, lips pressed into a flat line. You were in the royal garden after persistent invitation from the Crown Prince himself. Speaking of, said Crown Prince had his limbs sprawled out beneath you, the edges of his hands slightly playing with the frills of your dress as he took his afternoon nap, a youthful smile on his face.

“Your Highness,” you huffed out, “What are we doing here? No one is looking. There is no need for us to continue our act.”

“I know,” he cheered a little too brightly for someone that looked to be deep in dreamland, “I just wanted to hang out with you without worrying about others. Not that I ever did, but it’s nice to be alone with you every once in a while. The prying eyes can get a bit too much.”

You hummed at the thought; he did have a point. This arrangement turned out to be a lot smoother than expected. The Crown Prince wasn’t lying about his intentions and not once had he laid a hand on you – without your permission, anyway – and he turned out to be…a lot more docile and easy going than what you originally thought of him. Not that you had much thoughts to begin with anyway, the Prince was a celebrity and therefore not someone that concerned you.

In your mind, he was merely your leader, more often than a not a name spoken between hushed whispers and dreamy moans.

This side of him was different, and all the time you’d spent him with was filled with nothing but ridiculed stares and taunts. The Crown Prince was a hilarious man who never feared trying out new things, always happy and eager to try exotic foods with you in the night markets or joining you in your spontaneous dancing during midnight ‘dates.’

He was the closest you could consider as a friend, and you relaxed against him, laying down on the flowery fields right next to him as you sighed in content. “I will miss this, Your Highness.”

“Miss what?”

“You and I – hanging out,” you mumbled a little dreamily, “I have a strong feeling things will finally get better for me. When I get scouted by a better company, I won’t be able to hang out with you anymore,” Silence befell the both upon you, the rustling of the wind against the flowers sounding like a far off memory. Soon, it would be. “I will miss this.”

“You could always call me. Or who knows, maybe I’d even drop by to watch your performances sometime.”

You snapped your eyes open, chuckling when the Prince had now sat up halfway, his regal face cradled in his hands while his elbow laid flat under him. He blinked innocently at you, and that’s when you realized – he was serious. That had you bursting into laughter, hands clutched at your stomach. “Please, you? You do not even enjoy ballerina!”

“I enjoy watching you,” he confessed in a heartbeat, his gaze falling from your crinkled eyes and all the way down to the silhouette of your body. “There’s something about the way you move that’s just so graceful and...phenomenal.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his heated gaze, the mere trails of his sight enough to warm your entire skin despite the cool wind. This was the Prince concerned though, and you had to guard your heart, eyes narrowed playfully at him while you desperately ignored the need to rub your thighs together.

“Are you flirting with me, Your Highness?”

The Prince snorted, “Flirt with you? My pretend girlfriend?” he clutched a hand at his chest as if the assumption offended him, “What makes you come to that conclusion?”

You chucked your handkerchief at him, still a little in disbelief that you were greeted by his laughter when it hit him right in the face.

You would miss this indeed.

Your gaze softened as you sat up, thighs pressed to your chest as you directed your gaze up in the sky. Prince Satoru may not always be around when the time came, but at least you still had the sky to remind you of this brazen and unexpected friendship that helped you grow.

“Thank you, though,” you squished your cheeks onto your knees, a lilted smile plastered on your face. “Dancing has always been a passion of mine. I can’t ever imagine a time of my life where I wasn’t moving with music. It almost feels as if I was destined with it; it speaks to me and deeper than the recesses of my bones, guides me until I’m one and entangled with it,” you ended with a dreamy sigh, turning your head to the side to look His Highness in the eye, stilling for a moment when you’re met with his solemn gaze.

Your throat parched dry. “Have you ever fallen in love with something like that before?”

“I don’t think so,” one of his shoulders lifted up in a lame shrug, voice turning deep and husky as he asked, “How do you know when you lack something or not?”

“If it comes to love...” you tapped your chin with a finger, “I think a life lived without one would feel quite empty. Hollow, I would say, and the skies would just be a plain blue instead of a calming yet mesmerizing one,” the courage that soared within you was an unexpected one, but it was enough to let you look him in the eye, form vulnerable and words slipping past your lips before you could control them. “If I were incapable of love, I’d say your eyes are nothing but gleams of sapphire.”

“And if you were capable of it? What would my eyes be?”

“Like cerulean galaxies crashing against one another,” you whispered, “Stardust sprinkled and heavens birthed out of passion and the desire to be something more. You’d be azure and brazen instead of crestfallen; the magnificence of the universe’s creation attesting to itself that it is wholly capable of designing divine beings.”

“Hmm,” he tipped his head to the side as he mulled over your words. His jacket was discarded somewhere along the grass, top three buttons of his shirt left opened and hair rustling with the wind. Beautiful, the image etched into your skin. “Are you sure you are a dancer and not a poet?”

“People say all sorts of beautiful things when they’re in love.”

The Prince straightened up, lips pursed. For a moment, you grew fearful, your heart frantically thumping in your chest as you thought, this is it – this is when he pushes you away. He does nothing of this as he scoots closer to you, using his rough thumb to tilt your chin until you were looking up at him, wide eyes sparkling – the sight of you vulnerable like this making the Crown Prince lick his lips.

“If you were in love,” he began, voice barely above a whisper, “What would be the most beautiful thing those lips of yours would utter?” You shivered as his thumb moved up to graze at your bottom lip, almost prompting it to jut out, to which you happily complied with a shaky breath. “What would you say then?”

“Your name.”

The Prince smiled to himself at your hearty answer. To hide both of your nervous chuckles, the Prince took it upon himself to ease both your worries as he kissed you, nothing but the warmth and fluttering of butterflies rampaging in your stomach mixing at his sweet taste.

Beautiful, you hummed into his mouth. You could fall for as long as you wanted, but would the Prince ever fall from grace as he moaned into your mouth, tugging you until you were situated in his lap, arms wrapped tight enough around you in refusal to let you go? Maybe, your mind sighed, hands tugging at his hair when the Prince kissed you fervently, murmuring one word that made you melt right then and there.

Beautiful, he finds you.

Both your loud laughter echoed in his training grounds, the horses’ hooves padding against the firm earth. “Not fast enough, my Lady,” he taunts, his smile bright and wide as he sat perched atop his white stallion. “How would you catch my heart if you cannot ride faster?”

“I will catch up to you, just wait and see! Not everyone grew up riding horses, you know?”

“I bet a fine coin you do ride well, though, my Lady,” he remarked with a wink, his statement enough to tap the sides of your feet harder against your horse to catch after him.

“Your Highness!”

As you two chased around each other the wide field, carefree laughter and clothes swaying against the wind, skin warm from the flush of the sun, the Crown Prince’s servants stood at the side.

A particular woman – the servant that had been loyal long before the Prince was born – remained under a parasol, her wrinkled face tight with a frown.

“How nauseating,” she scrunched her nose, arms crossed on her chest. “To think I dedicated my life into raising the little prince to be a fine king someday, and his future would be tainted by a lowly performer who cannot even make a name for herself,” turning to one of the young boy servants, she narrowed her eyes at you. “Where does she work again? Is she of name?”

“She is an orphan, Madam, taken in at a young age in a dance school before she had to pay the fees herself, if the rumors are correct. I heard that she and His Highness met when she was kicked out by her own ballet master due to her stealing the original Black Swan spot for this season’s show.”

His old nanny’s face grew more gruesome. “Wasn’t the Black Swan supposed to be one of the Earl’s daughters?”

“Yes. Rumours had it that His Highness’ new plaything seized the spot to prove herself. Look at how that plan backfired.”

“How repulsive,” she spat out, venom laced in her tongue.

The roles had reversed, the Crown Prince insistent in catching you this time around, and you rode after him with panicked laughter, hands clutched tight on the reins. Although you’d only swished past the small group of servants that always seemed to be around, you’d heard enough.

“We must protect His Highness at all costs before this wretched woman rips his future away from him. The fate of the kingdom lies on his shoulders; we cannot afford him making mistakes.”

“Indeed, Madam.”

You stopped in your tracks until the horse slowed down with confused huffs, your Prince following behind you not long afterwards. Looking back at him again, you were no longer able to smile at him genuinely, not when discomfort, and most of all shame, had to be forced down deep into your system. Beautiful, you resigned, he was too beautiful.

His servants were right. Maybe you really were ruining everything for him. His reputation was frowned upon to begin with for his less than infamous sexual endeavors, that he was more often sighted in casinos and bars instead of his study room.

The barrack guards had grown tired and weary of trying to stop the Crown Prince from leaving the royal grounds. No matter what they did, he always found a way to escape.

The only difference this time around was that their Prince no longer frequented such sinful places and met with women of all titles and backgrounds. No, this time, the Prince leapt from the tall walls that had never been much of a challenge considering his tall frame, not bothering to get a car or even a horse as he dashed straight to your studio.

Sweat dripped down from your face as you slammed a fist on the floor, tears about to erupt. You couldn’t complete this routine that you were so close into perfecting.

Your mind was simply just in a mess.

There was a conflicting war inside you – one with your heart that yearned to stay longer in His Highness’ presence out of mere selfishness, and one with your mind that told you it was dishnoroubale to taint his name like this. The last thing you wanted was to destroy and push both of you even further into falling from grace; both reputations and name already tarnished.

You’d truly be heartless if you kept going on.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were feeling comfortable with him, having found home in the Crown Prince’s warm arms and spontaneous kisses of all places.

Was it absurd? Undoubtedly so.

Could it be helped? You certainly could try.

And you’d been doing a great job so far; quite a daunting task you patted yourself in the back for. Avoiding the Prince when he’d made it clear he also enjoyed your company proved a lot harder than reaching your dreams, but you pushed through, locking yourself in the unused studio and training day and night.

It wasn’t working well – not on your part, anyway. You’d been here for hours, your clothes uncomfortably sticking to your skin and your water bottles were all emptied.

You’d never felt this tired.

You fell on your knees, palms flat on the floor and sweat salty as it trailed down to your lips. With a groan, you untied your shoes off and stared at the bruised and blued toes, a witness to the countless years of hard work. Your lip quivered as you massaged the sore muscles, tears about to spill as you remembered the Prince.

Beautiful, he was, flawless and porcelain in each movement and breath.

But you? You were battered, scarred, broken and bruised – why would he want you of all people? It was clear he’s had multiple lovers before you. No, scratch that, you were never a lover to begin with. It was all a sham, an agreement formed out of lame survival. There was no beauty in a lie.

The music playing from your stereo kept repeating on loop, this time the tune no longer unrecognizable as your soft cries echoed around the studio. You weren’t beautiful – not enough for him, at least – everyone made that very clear to you.

Just as you wiped your tears away at the back of your hand, standing up to continue another set as you refused to come back home without completing one perfect routine, the doors slammed open. Heavy breathing entered afterwards and you scowled – you worked tooth and bone to claim this place as yours, who dared enter? “This studio is private—” your words fell dry on your skin when a tuft of white hair trudged over to you, his usual placid face replaced with a firm sneer. “Y-Your Highness?”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

His voice was nothing but demanding, the authority behind them only natural and befitting for someone like him. Each step he took forwards equated to a step backward until your back hit the mirrors, eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

Your voice came out weak. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t act like I’m stupid,” he pointed a finger at you, then scoffed, hands running through the soft locks of his air while he shook his head. You stood there grasping at your tights; having never seen the Prince lose his composure before. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. Every time I try to contact you, you never respond. When I ask your friends where you’ve been, they all tell me you’re busy practicing.”

Somehow, you managed to find your voice again, tone heavy and biting. “I am busy practicing, do you not see that?”

“It’s not the only thing you’re occupied with. Clearly, you are quite determined to stay away from me too,” he bellowed, his loud voice bouncing back from the emptiness of the room. The booming sound must’ve snapped him back to consciousness because Prince Satoru sighed, stepping closer until his warm hand cupped your cheek, starry blue eyes filled with worry and anguish. Had you caused this?

Beautiful, you frowned, that even in his demise he managed to look like fine art. “Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” he softened, breath warm on your lips. “If yes, then tell me and I’ll do everything it takes to make up for it.”

You fisted his shirt; cheek faced his way because you couldn’t look him in the eye right now. There was no way you’d let him see you cry.

“I don’t understand you, Your Highness,” you murmured, “You’re about to be King – why do you bother yourself with someone like me? I’m nothing compared to you, and I detest being compared to you for I am more than worthy despite not being born of a high ranking like yours.”

Prince Satoru froze. “Is this what this is about? My title bothers you?”

“We should stop whatever we’re doing,” was all you said, pushing him away as gently as you could, ignoring the gnawing pain that grew inside of you when your palms landed on his chest. “It is lowly of me to take advantage of the Crown Prince’s kindness anyway. My success should be paved out of my own hard work and not because of my lame connections to the Crown Prince.”

“Lame connections? Is that all I am to you?”

“You are my Crown Prince, Your Highness,” you reminded him of the stark difference firmly, “You mean a lot to your people, but I do not mean anything to you. I am just another nameless performer lost in the crowd of a thousand other girls who wish to reach their dreams, even if such a star is far beyond our reach,” Tears had now fallen until they formed into crystals on your cheeks, and he blinked back, unsure of what to do. “Could you ever understand what that feels like? To yearn for something you know you could never have but hope for anyway?”

“It would be a lie if I said I did,” he admitted quietly, “But I think I’m beginning to understand. It would make sense to me now – if you keep pushing me away, that is.”

You shook your head begrudgingly. “Your Highness...we shouldn’t.”

“And why not? Who said we couldn’t?”

You don’t stop him this time when he stepped closer once more, trapping you between his arms until you clutched desperately at his shirt, his erratic heartbeat pulsing under your touch. “It’s just you and I – neither a prince nor a performer – simply man and woman who crave each other’s touch. What could be so wrong into giving into one’s desires?” you gasped when his lips fell at the juncture of your neck, your head immediately tilting to the side as you allowed him to ravage you. “You still haven’t given me the chance to let you know what I feel,” he cradled your jaw, caressing your skin as he breathed you’re your ear, voice low and sultry, begging even, “Would you really deny me the pleasure of showing you how beautiful you are to me right now?”

“Satoru,” you keened at his teeth tugging at your skin, fists clenched on shirt. “Touch me.”

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, darling.”

Satoru swept down to capture your lips in his, his grip firm on the swell of your ass he kept you close to him, pressed hip to hip and his hardened front grazing your core through the tights. He pulled a moan from you as he flipped your body over, lips finding home in your neck while his large hand cupped your breast, the other trailing down to finger at your clothed, damp pussy.

In this angle, you could see the despondent way you easily spread your legs for him, your pants like music to ears.

“Do you still not believe me when I say you are worth more than a pound of gold? Look at you – your dripping cunt shines harder than the diamonds I keep in my room,” the both of you groaned when he pushed a finger through your hole, your tights stretching and sucked in by your walls enough to outline the arousal that seeped through. “Maybe I should keep you instead, hmm, don’t you think? You’d be a far grander treasure than all those riches.”

“I am a woman,” you tugged at his hair, panting heavily as he kept fingering into you, his thumb grazing at the sensitive bundle of nerves that swelled under your tight clothes. “I am not to be reduced to a possession you acquire.”

“No, of course not. Nothing could ever replace you in this world,” he growled, harsh in his movements as he tore your clothes with minimal effort.

You yelped when your precious tights had been ripped to the sides, a hole revealing your core and your breasts barely covered with the flimsy fabric. Satoru shuffled his pants down before placing you right on his cock, swallowing your moans with each inch of his length that slid inside you.

Hands dug painfully into his hair, Satoru hissed at the pain, grinning to himself at how wet you were through just light touches and a sloppy kiss. You’ve been good for him, though, you were always good for him that he had to reward you, show you how beautiful you were, and he spread his legs apart, relishing in the sight of you being fucked onto his cock.

“Nothing feels better than your tight pussy, huh? Take a good look at yourself, you’re so fucking precious, taking me so well,” you could only moan in response, unable to take your eyes off the way his length disappeared inside you, a shiver chilling your spine when he grasped at your breasts, nipples tweaked between his fingers. “Nothing, nothing, nothing could compare to this. You feel like heaven, taste like bliss and forgiveness,” he licked at the salty sweat that drowned your body, one of his hands now rolling your clit between his fingers. You screamed, bouncing yourself harder on him with your nails dug deep into his thighs. “You will be the redemption of my darkened soul, are you not?”

“Maybe I will be,” you cried out, head lolled onto his shoulder.

Satoru hummed, his eyes dark and coated with lust when your breasts bounced in front of the mirror. Thanks to years of dancing, you barely felt a stretch when Satoru suddenly lifted your legs up until your thighs were embarrassingly squished against your chest. You knew why he did this; it wasn’t that hard to understand why when he narrowed his focus on the way your juices slipped down his cock, the sounds of your pussy squelching drowning out the operatic music.

Satoru kissed your cheeks to wipe your previous tears away, his hands nothing but grabby and possessive as he gripped the flesh of your thigh. “You already are, sweet thing.”

Pleasure had completely taken over you at this point, that familiar heat building up in your stomach until it snapped into two. Pupils blown wide open, you gasped as you came all over him, your cum creaming down onto his cock until it lined with a thick ring of cum.

It was filthy to say the least, and your body burned at the thought that you were disrespecting him, defiling him with the mess you’ve made. But the Prince only fucked into you harder, his teeth grazing at your already abused skin with relentless and merciless thrusts. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d show you how beautiful he found you, going hell and beyond because you felt nothing but worshipped when he kissed you feverishly, his moans romantic as he came. “S-Satoru!”

“That’s right,” he slipped a finger, the stretch adding a slight tinge of pain that had your hips rutting out in sensitivity, your hole clenching around his everything. “Cum for me. Come on, I know you can do it for me. You’re so good, sweetheart, come for me.”

You were mindlessly babbling his name as both of you came down from your highs. Satoru doesn’t stop once from running hands everywhere, gripping your hips, flicking your nipples, rubbing your clit, and running a finger down your slit to wipe your juices everywhere. It had become too much that you had to push his hand away, legs locking around his arms that refused to stop cupping your pussy.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?” he cooed, shameless and teasing when he brought his hands up to your face, fingers stretched to show the webbing of your arousal between them. “We made such a mess,” he chuckled, his kisses a lot softer now on your neck.

Beautiful, you whimpered internally as you fluttered around nothing.

Satoru must’ve grown an addiction to kissing your lips for he dived in one last time, murmuring the word you always tied him with until they felt printed, tattooed, on your skin. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in this, your kisses slow and sensual as you both enjoyed this serene moment.

He came to this studio to prove you something.

He left the studio with a swelling heart, cheeks resting on your breast as he wrapped his arms around you in the comfort of your worn-out mattress as he asked, can I stay here longer with you?

The cheers and applause directed your way were deafening, the spotlight blinding as you bowed. You gasped for air, every muscle in your body screaming both with delight and exhaustion.

You could barely fathom the crowd hidden in darkness before you, the sight like a black sea, but instead of feeling like you were drowning, you don’t think you’d ever been able to breathe this well before. The smile on your face was bright – brighter than the star you’ve become and bigger than the galaxy and universe you’ve made for yourself – and you waved your arm gracefully, toes pointed outwards while the roses and flowers thrown your way came flooding like a waterfall.

You’d made it.

And through the crowd, at the back where someone the likes of him wasn’t supposed to be, His Majesty’s white hair stuck out like a sore thumb. His draperies were replaced with finer ornaments of gold embroidery, those large hands that had grown accustomed to holding yours and marking handprints on your delicate skin covered with gloves as he applauded, following the crowd from where they all stood.

Your smile directed him was nothing less of a beam, the stars he’d hung for you reflecting back in your eyes. Tears blurred the vision of him for a moment until you saw him again – crystal clear – his expression both proud and longing.

The memory of you and him had been a beautiful one, but it was distant and with each passing day, it blurred until it became nothing like swirls of I love you’s and good luck’s whispered onto one another’s skin. Your heart still soared and broke each time at the sight of him, the majestic Queen hanging off the arm that was locked with yours just years ago a painful reminder that there would always be an invisible divide between you and the Prince you’d fallen in love with.

There was no regret, however, in where things had led. You knew he loved his kind wife as much as he loved you, and he knew you loved him as much as you loved your career, and things were simply just…meant to be this way, you concluded.

It was never supposed to be a great love story that told of breaking traditions. Not all stories were meant to go against the odds; some were told to show that people could be capable of change without having to change anything. You were thankful, still so extremely grateful you met your beloved Prince even as he left the theatre before people crowded around him, leaving you to your devices until you retired back into the changing room, a set of rare flowers only a certain person could afford.

Beautiful, you cried as you picked up the card, his once messy scrawls improved into a neater cursive befitting for the new King.

And so it was that you parted ways, with him leading his country into further prosperity while you moved away and stole people’s hearts with each phenomenal show, one after the other.

Your summer rendezvous with the Prince was not meant to be a love story that went against all odds; you were there to save each other from reaching damnation, loving one another as passionately as your souls were able to until you picked each other back up.

Once the other stood firm, tall, and ready to take on the world with their bare hands, you pushed one another in your respective directions.

Beautiful, you smiled as you clutched at his present close to your heart where he’d built a garden out of itself, that we’d saved each other from falling from grace.

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junjungsunwoo · 3 years

Text

When The Rain Stops.

Pairing: rich kid! Sunghoon x rich kid! fem! reader

Genre: Angst, very light fluff

Word Count: 10.0k

-> The first time you met him was in the rain. He had looked so mysterious, so...enchanting. Everything drew you closer, making you want to know more about this boy that you met on one cold, rainy day.

Warnings: I don’t remember if I wrote any profanities, abusive family, major character death, car crash, there is a robbery scence, mentions of crontroling parents, there are two or three scences where reader was slapped by her mom, if you see any other I should add please do tell me!

Taglist: @geniejunn, @deobis-moon, @taemin-jaemin, @chaoticdreaminisode @abdiitcryy @sleepingrenjun @daegalfangirl @symoneismeh | @imdamconfused @geminirules (I don’t remember if you guys were in my permanent taglist or not so I’m just tagging you for now, sorry if I bothered you guys T^T)

Networks: @k-dinernet, @foreverkpop-net, @lovesick-net, @hotpink-ent @kpclub @knet-bakery

A/N: I would say sorry this took so long, but it’s 10k and I wrote this faster then I did with Goal! which was 7k so I’d ssy I’ve improved on my speed hehe It would be great if you guys can leave a reblog or comment telling me how the fic was!

Comments about my fic is greatly appreciated!

-> Part of the Happily Never After collab hosted by me, @junjungsunwoo. Please do check out the other amazing writers’ works too!

-> collab masterlist

-> main masterlist | enhypen masterlist

April 14th, 2020.

The first time you met him, it was raining.

The sky was dark and grey clouds were all that was visible, the sun was out of your sight. Everyone around you was either walking calmly under an umbrella or running around with their jackets or bags above their heads trying to keep themselves dry for as long as they could.

You sat under the roof of the bus stop, the roof provided you with a dry safe place for you to stay under until the rain stops. You watch as the people start to disappear, most of them starting to get picked up, or they’ve bought an umbrella from a nearby store, or just plainly walking in the rain unbothered.

The rain was calming. The sound of the small droplets hitting the ground was soothing in your ears after all of the scoldings you had gotten from your teacher just a few hours ago. The smell of the rain was pleasing, it was light and refreshing- unlike the heavy perfume that was in your face ever since you stepped inside of your high school.

You close your eyes to take in what was happening around you.

Without your sight, your hearing was enhanced and you could hear the little things that were happening around you. You could hear the splashes of rainwater when someone steps in a puddle, the sound of fabric fluttering against the wind when a person opens an umbrella, the joyful laughter of kids who are excited to play in the rain, and the sound of cars passing by- splashing water onto the side of the road.

As you enjoy the noise around you, you hear footsteps slowly making their way towards where you sat. The soft sounds of fabric fluttering around were getting closer, as a soft thud was heard right beside you.

You open your eyes, squinting slightly due to the sudden change in lighting. You look to your left, and there he sat.

He was soaking wet, water dripped down from the little strands of his black hair which he pushed back revealing his handsome face. From his outfit, you could tell he was a student, but you had no clue which school it was.

The boy was wearing a dark navy blue pair of pants and a white blouse, which was now see-through due to the water that it had soaked up. The view made the tips of your ears red and your heart beat, but you quickly shook that thought off- instead, you turned over to your bag before pulling out a hoodie that you always kept with you.

Softly tapping your finger on his shoulders, he turned around to face you. He stares at what was in your hand before he lifted his head to look at you. He had big round eyes and full plump lips, his cheeks had a soft layer of pink on them as it was getting quite cold, and he was wearing a wet outfit. You gesture with your head to your hoodie, telling him silently to use it.

He grabs the warm material from your hand before he turns back around to face the road in front of the two of you and puts the hoodie on. He ruffles his hair while shaking his head, trying to get it as dry as he could, before he puts the hood on and turns to face you again.

“Thank you.” His voice was surprisingly soft. He stares at you once again with those big eyes of his, and you could feel your face getting hot. His eyes were big, but they were dull- as if they’ve seen through everything in the world already and were disappointed. You wondered what the boy had seen to have such an expression in his beautiful eyes, but before you could even open your mouth, the boy looked away.

“You’re welcome.” You look away from the boy and back to the street before the two of you. A comfortable silence falling between the two of you. The both of you did nothing but sat there and watched as cars drove by and waited for the rain to stop, but the rain only started to pour even more. Sighing, you took a look at the boy again, only to find him staring at you already. The two of you quickly broke eye contact and looked away, red blooming on both of your faces. The boy softly clears his throat before he looks at you again.

“Hi,” you turn your head to look at him. “My name is Sunghoon.” He smiled. He hadn’t given you his last name, which was understandable since giving away your full name to a stranger was never a good choice.

You could feel the corners of your lips begin to lift themselves into a smile and you looked at him in the eyes again this time, his eyes had another expression to it- curiosity.

“Hi Sunghoon,” you say, breaking your eye contact before looking down at your hands, “my name is y/n.” you didn’t give him your last name either, not wanting a stranger- well, a handsome stranger to know your full name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Another wave of comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Grabbing your bag, you shuffle around inside to find your earphones before pulling them out of the bag. Plugging them into your phone you begin to play your playlist, a smile softly forming as your favorite song comes on; Spring Day.

Looking over to Sunghoon, you see that he was just staring out onto the road blankly, seeming bored. You once again poke his shoulder with your finger and you hold up the other earphone to him, silently asking him if he wants to join you in listening to music. Sunghoon looks at you before he reaches out and takes the earphone, whispering a soft thank you to you before he puts it in his ear. The soft melodies of Spring Day flow right in his ear and he smiles, realizing that his favorite song was playing.

Sunghoon begins to hum out the melodies he was hearing out of habit before he realized you were watching him. His face flushed red once again at the thought of you watching him hum, but all you did was smile and began humming the melodies that followed. The two of you locked eyes again, smiles growing wider than before, the two of you began to relax feeling strangely comfortable in each other’s presence and you both began to hum along with Spring day that was playing in both of your ears.

As the melodies come to an end, the rain does too as the grey clouds begin to go away and the sky cleared. The two of you stood up from where you sat for the past 15 minutes (which felt way longer for the both of you) and Sunghoon returned the earphone to you before he started to take the hoodie off.

“Oh, you don’t have to return that.” You told him, and he pauses. “Your shirt underneath is probably still wet so just wear this for now, and you can return it when we meet again.” You gave him a smile.

“We’ll meet again, right?” He smiled at you.

“Maybe.”

“Well then,” you pick up your bag, “Until next time then, Sunghoon.” You wave at him before you walk away, towards the direction of your house. You didn’t turn your head back when you walked away, but if you did then you would’ve known that Sunghoon watched you walk away with a smile until you were out of his field of vision.

“Until next time, y/n.”

And so, when the rain stopped, the two strangers parted ways.

April 23rd, 2020.

It was raining again.

And just like before, you were sitting in the bus stop under the dry haven the roof of the stop had provided you. This time, you had a cup of hot chocolate in your hands, warming you up slightly every time you took a small sip.

You were soaked through with rainwater- it had started raining when you were walking home, and as if it was fate, you arrived at the same bus station you met the boy- Sunghoon, last time.

Despite having a cup of hot chocolate in your hands, your body still shivered from the cold. Your flimsy white blouse doing a horrible job of keeping you warm and covered up as the white blouse was now see-through. You hug your backpack closer to your chest in hopes of warming yourself up and keeping your chest covered from the people who were walking down the streets under their umbrellas.

Everything was just like last time. People are running to get under cover or they are walking around in the rain unbothered. This time you don’t close your eyes. Instead, you looked around, focusing on the things you don’t really see when it wasn’t raining.

You watched as raindrops fell onto the windowpane beside you. The droplets stick to the window slowly moving downwards towards the ground. You watched as the small streaks collided with each other and formed into bigger droplets and bigger streaks. You reach out your hand towards the rain wanting to feel the small, cold droplets on your hand.

You feel a tap on your back and you turn to see Sunghoon smiling at you. You felt as if the world was suddenly silent as you looked into his eyes.

“Hey.” He says, his voice was like that of a feather- soft and gentle and his eyes were those like a child’s, they burned you with curiosity, excitement, and amusement.

“Hi.” You gave him a soft smile, which he returned- his eyes turning into small crescents. He holds out his hands and you look down at them.

“Here,” he hands you the hoodie you had lent him last time, “thank you again, for lending me this last time.” he smiles again, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven.

“You’re welcome.” you take your hoodie back from his hands, and a soft smell of citrus fills your senses.

“I washed it since it was soaked in rainwater when I got back home, and it was the only thing I could do as a thank you for lending me this” he explained as he plopped onto the seat beside you- exactly where he sat the first time he had met you.

You put the hoodie on quickly, trying to cover yourself up from the boy beside you. Warmth immediately floods your body and the scent of citrus was stronger now that you had the hoodie on.

Silence fills the space between the two of you once again, and you look over to Sunghoon. He was looking down at his phone and was listening to music. You took this time to take a look at what he was wearing. This time, he had on a pair of black ripped jeans, with a white t-shirt, and a black blazer jacket on top, with some silver jewelry to match. You accidentally make eye contact with him as you begin to lift your eyes back up from studying him. You broke eye contact and quickly looked away while a bright red began to bloom on your face.

While trying to calm your fast-beating heart, you feel a soft tap on your shoulder and you look over, only to see Sunghoon smiling at you and offering one of his earphones to you. You smiled and mumbled a small thank you when you took his earphone and the soft tempo of Where the sea sleep began playing. The two of you listen to the song in silence, being completely comfortable with each other- despite it only being the second time you’ve met.

As the song came to an end, you quickly glanced at Sunghoon and you decided to ask more about him.

“How-”

The two of you stopped before you both burst into joyful laughter. The earphone that was in your ear falls out and your laughter turns into giggles as you bend down to pick them up, Sunghoon’s laughter still ringing in your ear.

“You can go first-”

“You go first-”

Another wave of laughter hits the two of you as he gestures to you to go first. Taking small breaths, you try to calm yourself down.

“How have you been, Sunghoon?” You gave him a smile, your head tilting slightly watching him in curiosity.

“I’ve been...alright.” He returns your smile. “How about you?” You look away.

“It could be better,” you pause, “but I’ve been fine.”

Slowly, a conversation emerges between the two of you as you enjoy your time together. The music the two of you were listening to disappeared as you began to question each other about different things and got to know each other more.

Still in your own world, the two of you don’t notice that the sky had turned slightly darker and the rain was now slowly going away. As your small conversation ended, you noticed you knew a lot more things about him- nothing too personal, but definitely some interesting things such as the fact that he was a figure skater like you, or that he had the same birthday as you- the same year as well. You find it amazing how the boy in front of you had so many things in common with you.

Grabbing your bag, you stood up from where you sat, and you turned to face Sunghoon.

“Well,” you began, “I guess it’s time for me to go now.” You smiled at him, and you swear you saw Sunghoon’s eyes dim a little at the thought of saying goodbye. Sunghoon gets up as well, throwing his backpack over his right shoulder.

“It was great talking to you y/n,” you felt a small sliver make its way through your body as your name rolled off his tongue. “I hope we can do this again soon.”

“Yeah,” you smile and he waves before he turns around walking away, in the opposite direction of where you are going to go. “Me too.”

And so, when the rain stopped, the two newly made friends walked away.

May 5th, 2020

It’s raining, again.

Rushing to get out of the rain, you run towards the little bus station again, hoping that maybe you could see Sunghoon there later. As the bus station got in your line of sight, you could make out a figure inside the stop. You hesitated to go inside the stop as you didn’t want to bother the person inside, but the rain was getting heavier, so you stepped in.

Bunching up the ends of your skirt, you squeeze it hard trying to get your skirt to be somewhat drier. Wet strands of hair were sticking to your face, you brush your hand through them- pushing them back and showing your forehead. You wipe your face with the wet sleeve of your soaked shirt and a hand reaches out with a handkerchief from beside you and you look up at the owner at the hand.

“Use it.” It was Sunghoon. You could feel your heart start to beat faster and faster, and your whole body begins to feel hot. You smiled at him, taking the handkerchief from his hand and uses it to wipe the water from your face.

“Thank you.” You said to him, your voice being drowned out with the sound of rain falling hard to the concrete streets. Sunghoon watches as you pat away the water on your cheeks, a slow smile stretches on his face as he stares at you.

“Why are you here today?” You asked him as you put your bag down and turned towards him.

“I’m just waiting for the rain to go away, I don’t feel like getting soaked today.” his eyes turn into crescents as he gives you a small grin, a hint of mischief laced in his voice. “What about you?”

“What you said,” You tell him as you look into his eyes. “I’m just waiting for the rain to pass.” You could feel yourself slowly get drawn deeper into his eyes as he stares at you with an emotion you can’t really decipher.

“Well, I guess we can keep each other’s company while we wait.” You break eye contact at the sound of his voice- feeling a small sense of disappointment as you look away. “You won’t mind that would you?”

“No, of course not.”

The two of you exchanged questions and talked about your hobbies for hours, the rain providing you a comfortable setting with its sound and smell- which you both enjoyed. You quickly learned that you both came from rich families and that you both had a deep hatred for the way the high society had so much control over your daily lives- how you both had to put up an act every time you were in the public’s eye. The longer you had talked with Sunghoon the more you noticed different things about him- how little dimples would always show up on his cheeks when he smiled or how he was very expressive with his face, always making cute expressions when he talks about something.

Everytime Sunghoon smiled at you, you could feel your heart explode, everytime he looked at you, you could feel your ears heat up into a bright red. It felt euphoric to be able to spend time with the boy in front of you. From the first day you met him, he had piqued your interest- you wanted to know more about him, ask him why his eyes were so dull that day. But now when you look into his eyes you could see stars- it was like his eyes held the whole universe inside them.

You knew exactly what you were feeling and you were scared. It felt dangerous to fall in love with Sunghoon. He was really no one but a stranger you had meet for a couple of times and you knew little to nothing about him- for all you know if he had could’ve been lying to you ever since you began talking.

When the rain slowly comes to a stop, so does your conversation, and once again the two of you begin to prepare to go your separate ways. Hesitating a bit, you reach out and tap his back with your phone, and he looks at your phone before he looks up at you, staring right into your eyes tilting his head as a silent question.

“Can I…have your number?” He remains silent and still for a second before he breaks into a smile and he grabs your phone out of your hand.

“Of course,” he types in his number on your phone. “I was just about to ask.” He gives your phone back, and you take a look. He had saved himself as “Sunghoonie” with a little penguin emoji behind it making you break into a smile.

“I still have something I have to do, so I'll get going now.” Sunghoon threw his bag over his shoulder and stood up before looking at you. “ I’ll see you next time y/n. I hope you like me enough to send me a text.” He gave you another one of his blinding smiles before he turned away, walking at a quick pace, trying to get home quick as he tried to hide the huge smile that was planted on his face as well as the slight blush that creeped its way onto Sunghoon’s face.

You smiled as you watched as he walked away from where the two of you sat for the past hour and just as you were about to turn and take your leave you noticed the little black and white umbrella that was clipped onto his backpack, the smile on your face growing impossibly bigger as you slowly walked away while the sun behind the grey clouds showed itself once again. Your steps were a little faster than usual, wanting to get back to the house you never called home so that you could text the boy you had just talked to, excitement blooming inside of your stomach and you could only hope that your mom would ignore you instead of yelling at you today.

And so, when the rain stopped, the two red faced teenagers parted ways.

“But mother I don’t want to go the party-“

Before you could finish your words your head was flung to the side, a big red mark started to form on the left side of your face, crystal tears started to form in your eyes.

“It’s the only thing you can do for me and your father after all the things we had to do to raise you up.” She wiped her hands on a white handkerchief before she discarded it in the garbage, “So just do what we are telling you to do like a good daughter- and don’t you dare embarrass us in front of our partners, like how you did last time when you lost in that figure skating competition to the son of Park Jaehwan.”

Your mother snickers at the name, before she looks you in the eyes again. “Do you know how embarrassing it was for us to know that you lost to his son? He was so cocky about it too, always bringing it up everytime we met. Don’t embarrass us again y/n. You know what happens if you do.” She glares at you as a warning one more time before she makes her way up into her study leaving you alone in the living room to cry your heart out at her words.

Your maids (who you see as sisters instead) rush to help you get into your room to get you ready. The oldest and closest to you- Yeji tries to comfort you the best she could as she wipes your tears away.

“Please stop crying y/n, you're going to mess up your pretty eyes.” She signals the other girls to start preparing you. “I know how much you hate this but we have to do this.” You look at her with sad eyes, ones that have seen and been through too many things. Different girls held different things in their hands, one bunch had hair brushes and hair ties in their hands while another bunch had different makeup in their hands. 2 of the girls came up to you as Yeji continued to whisper encouraging comments at you, in their hands was a beautiful white dress- one that would make anyone that’s wore it look like an angel. It wasn’t a very long dress as it only went down to your knee- it was an off-shoulder lace dress with tiny diamonds lined up at the shoulder seam, it was easily one of the most beautiful dresses you’ve seen.

Pushing you into the washroom that was in your room, they all leave you to change into the dress. You put it on gently, afraid that it would rip and you looked into the mirror when you were done.

Oh my god.

You thought as you spun around, watching as the soft silky fabric fluttered in the air. You were in awe at how the dress fitted you perfectly, how it made you look so beautiful- how it made you feel beautiful. A knock on the door disrupts your thoughts as you hear Yeji asking you if you were done and that you needed to get your hair and makeup done.

You open the bathroom door and you watch as all of the maids’ mouths drop open in shock. You let out a cute giggle as they start to snap out of their shock and they began to run around the room like headless chickens trying to get you to look even more beautiful then you are now. Skillful hands were everywhere touching nearly everything, there were hands on your face, fingers in your hair, and you were pretty sure at one point someone’s hand was on your feet putting your shoes on for you but you couldn’t tell.

Once they were done, they had stood you in front of a mirror once again. And if you thought you had looked your best before- you were wrong. Now standing in front of the mirror with your hair done and simple but elegant makeup on your face, you looked like a goddess. The small diamond earrings that were dangling on your ears complemented the diamonds on your dress and the white stiletto heels complimenting your white dress.

Without hearing your mother knock, she slams the door open before she begins to drag you out and rant about being ‘fashionably late’ before you had a chance to say thank you to your maids- so you mouthed it to them and flashed a quick smile before being pushed out of the front door. And into a car that was too expensive to your taste.

It was so boring.

There was nothing to do, and no one to talk to. Everyone that was in the room were adults that were just looking to show off their wealth and power or adults that were looking for new business partners- there was no place for a teenager like you. You were placed next to your mother who was talking to one of her business partners who also had their son standing next to them.

“Hey y/n.” You look over to the voice, “how have you been?” It was the boy that stood beside the man who was talking to your mother.

“Hey Jay,” You lifted your glass of apple juice to him, which he cheered his cup with yours before he downed the whole thing. “I’ve been good, you?” He takes a look at you again before he places his now empty cup on a platter of a nearby servant.

“I’ve been good too.” A small talk begins between the two of you before you are both interrupted by another boy.

“You should really smile y/n, you look like you’d rather die than to be here.” You turn around to the voice only to see Lee Heeseung, another close friend of yours and Jay “Hey Jay.” He says to his cousin before they do their little handshake.

“Shut up Hee, you know how much I hate being in these parties.” The named boy lets out a small chuckle before he pats your shoulder in a teasing manner.

Slowly, as the three of you quietly talk in your own little circle, more and more teenagers joined you- some boys named Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki along with a girl named Ryujin.

The topics the seven of you talked about flew around everywhere, quickly changing as a person talked about something else that interested the rest of the six. Suddenly, a loud sound came out of nowhere as a rainstorm slowly brewed outside the window. Everyone inside the beautifully decorated ballroom paid no attention to the weather outside as they continued to dance and chat inside the dry, brightly lit golden room.

You stared outside into the rain a little longer than everyone else, your mind wandering off to the boy named Sunghoon. You wondered if he was thinking about you right now- if he wanted to meet you again.

Feeling a light tug on your dress, you look away from the world outside to Ryujin who was looking at someone in the crowd. She inches a little closer to you before bringing her mouth near your ear.

“Someone’s been staring at you for a while now,” she pauses, looking back to the crowd again. “I don’t know if you know him or something, but he doesn’t seem to hold any hostility to you from what I see.” Her eyes searched the crowd before quickly pointing to the two boys that were talking near the wall opposite to your group.

You recognized the boy in the navy blue suit right away- it was Jake Shim, a distant cousin of Jay. The two of you never talked much but the two of you still considered each other friends. You squint a little at the second boy who's back faced you, the boy wore a white suit and he had black hair that was slightly slicked back.

Your eyes widened as the two of you made eye contact, and you suddenly felt as if everyone else in the room had disappeared leaving only you and Sunghoon in the room. Sunghoon’s face matches yours as his eyes widen slightly and his mouth opens to let out a small gasp of surprise.

You were so caught up in surprise at the sight of Sunghoon that you didn’t notice Jake waving excitedly at his cousin and had begun dragging Sunghoon to your group. You snap out of your surprise as Jake waves his hand in front of your face in excitement before saying his greetings.

“Hey y/n! It’s nice to see you again!” He smiled at you and you were flustered at his puppy-like personality. He points to Sunghoon as he begins introducing the two of you. “This is Park Sunghoon, he’s my best friend in high society! If I remembered correctly, you skate right? Sunghoon here also skates a lot, maybe you guys can be friends or something!” You stared at Sunghoon for a few seconds before you tore your eyes from him to look at Jake who seemed like an excited puppy waiting for your compliments.

“Hi Sunghoon, it’s nice to meet you.” You gave Sunghoon a tight lipped smile- one that never reached your eyes.

“Hello, y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He also smiles, but it was one that looked forced- unlike all of the ones you’ve seen on his lips when you talked at the bus station. Jake leaves the two of you to greet his cousin and the rest of your friends. The two of you were quiet, not knowing what to say to each other in a situation like this.

“So-“

“How-“

The two of you pause for a second before laughter bloomed between the two of you, finding his situation familiar. Sunghoon gestures to you to go first as the laughter begins to quiet down.

“So...how have you been?” You asked him quietly as the atmosphere around the two of you began to feel awkward once again. It’s been over a week since you’ve seen Sunghoon and seeing him here was surprising as you didn’t expect to see him again.

“I’ve been good,” he sighed, “I didn’t really want to come but now I’m glad I did since I got to see you.” He smiles again- this time, it was genuine and his big eyes turned into little crescents. Out of nowhere, he suddenly grabs your hand before he drags you to a balcony door, he pushes you inside and closes the door when he gets inside himself.

The balconie was quite spacious and it had a roof so the rain didn’t get to the two of you. The two of you stand next to each other in silence as the rain once again accompanied the two of you, silently helping the two of you get comfortable with it’s sounds of raindrops falling to the ground.

“You look beautiful today.” Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you as he stared into the rain, thanking god in his head that it was already dark outside so that you couldn’t see the deep blush that was painted on his face.

Under the dim light the moon provides the two of you with, you finally took your time to study Sunghoon. Today, he was wearing a white silk suit, his silky black hair was slick back and his plump lips looked as if they were painted with a slight red tint- making his face look even more attractive (if that was even possible).

“Thank you,” you were glad that your maids had used foundation on your face today to cover up the nasty mark your mother had given to you otherwise, Sunghoon would definitely see the red blush that crept onto your cheeks. “You look handsome today too,” You giggled as you looked down at your own outfit. “We match.”

He looks at your outfit, staring at you with his big eyes before he looks down on his own clothes.

“We are,” he laughs as he looks back up at you. “What a coincidence.” Silence befalls the two of you once again and the rainstorm starts to slow down as you stare at each other in silence. It felt as if there were only the two of you left on the balcony and you wanted the time to stop right at this moment. You both stared at each other in silence, forgetting about everyone that was in the room behind the closed door. Just as you were about to open your mouth to talk to him, the balcony door suddenly busted open, and there stood your mother- her face was red in you didn’t know if it was embarrassment or anger and her biggest rival, Park Jaehwan standing right behind her, staring at the boy next to you in disappointment.

“What are you doing with that boy y/n.” She states rather than ask, “get over here. Now.” You don’t move, wondering why she was so angry at the moment.

Instead of waiting for you to move, your mother walks over to you instead and wraps her hand around your forearm, her grip was tight and her nails dogged into your skin. The man behind her calmly walks to Sunghoon before he pats him on the shoulders.

“Dad.” You turn your head in surprise and your eyes grow big.

Dad?

Sunghoon is Park Jaehwan’s son?

“What were you doing with Min Soonyeon’s daughter here?” He questions Sunghoon as he burns holes onto your skin with his stares.

“We were just…” He makes eye contact with you and you can see the gears in his head turning to come up with a lie.

“We-“

“We were just getting to know each other.” You cut through what Sunghoon was about to say and the older man glares at you while your mother’s grip on your hand tightens around your arm.

“I did not ask you girl, I asked my son here.” He tells you, his tone hostile and he turns his glare from you to your mother then back to you again. “Don’t answer what was not asked of you, it’s basic manners- but I don’t blame you, being the daughter of Soonyeon it was expected you won’t know such a thing.”

Your mother scoffs as she pulls on your arm and hides your body with hers before she glares at the older man.

“I don’t think you should say that Jaehwan, seeing that your son couldn’t even answer a simple question.” Your mother glances at Sunghoon who was silently just staring at you before she turned her eyes back onto Jaehwan. “I can see that he got that from you Jaehwan. I must say however, he’s definitely a better man than you- at least he isn’t cocky over the stupidest things like you.” She hisses before she turns on her heels, dragging you by your arm to the balcony door.

“Let’s go y/n, we don’t want to continue to talk to these unruly men.” You look back just as you cross the door to see Sunghoon staring at you with sad eyes and he mouths a small ‘sorry’ to you.

“It’s alright, I’m sorry about my mother.” You mouthed to him just before he disappears from your line of sight as your mother drags you out the front lobby and into your car.

You can tell that your mother was filled to the brim with anger and you chose to shut your mouth in order to not anger her more. A small ‘ding’ comes from your phone and you bring it up to your face to check.

Sunghoon 🐧: I’m so sorry about that y/n. What my dad said to you was rude and I’m sorry you had to hear that.

You smile at the name. You bring your hand up to your phone as you begin to type your reply.

You: It’s really nothing Sunghoon, trust me, I’ve heard worse. I’m sorry about my mother, she really doesn’t have a filter for anyone. I hope you weren’t offended by that.

Sunghoon 🐧: It’s fine y/n. Really 😄 You looked really beautiful tonight y/n, I don’t remember if I’ve told you that and even if I did, I’ll say it again- you looked amazing tonight. It was great talking to you tonight, I had fun. 😁 I have to go now, but it was really nice seeing you tonight.

You: Thank you Sunghoon, you looked handsome as well, I almost thought you were a prince from a fairytale 😉 But it was great talking to you again, I really didn’t expect to see you at the party but I’m glad I did. Goodnight Sunghoon, sweet dreams.

You closed your phone as you stared outside to the passing buildings, watching as the rain finally stops . Your head spinning with joy and your face flushed with bright red, and a huge smile decorated your face.

What you didn’t know however was that Sunghoon on the other side of the phone was just like you- his face was red and a smile decorated his face as he talked with your friends who were still at the party, the image of you smiling in the dress you wore never leaving his mind.

And so, when the rain stopped, the two lovestruck teenagers parted ways.

It’s been weeks since you’ve seen Sunghoon at the party, and since then the both of you have been texting non-stop over the phone. Every little thing in your everyday life was shared with Sunghoon- how your lunch had tasted that day, or how a boy spilt some coffee on you by accident, and even you helping a elderly lady across the streets, Sunghoon listened on and on- never cutting you off. He just listens quietly to you as you happily tell him everything, smiling as he realizes how happy you were that day, or he would have a frown stretched on his face in worry as he listens to you.

Sunghoon was a simple man.

He never said much even when the two of you got closer together. He never shared much about his life like you did. He always just smiled and said a simple “It was alright” when you’d ask him about his day, or he would shake his head in denial when you’d ask him if there was something bothering him. Soon you had realized that that was just how Sunghoon is- simple, quiet.

A silent promise was made between the two of you when you had met for the fifth time under the same bus stop you and him met nearly half a year ago. It was raining- again, that day when the two of you saw each other after texting for so long without seeing each other.

It was just like the first time you met him- he was soaked from head to toe in rainwater and you just so happened to have a spare hoodie inside your backpack. It was like meeting him for the first time all over again, but this time, a new feeling bloomed inside both of your young hearts- burning with heavy passion and love. It was so painfully obvious to the both of you what that feeling was- love.

From that day on, you both would always find yourself going to the bus station whenever it rained- it didn’t matter if you guys were doing anything, you just knew that you wanted to see each other again.

So you go. To the same damn place that you both loved so much.

And he would always be there. Every. Single. Time. And so would you. The rainstorm never stopped either of you from going with it’s rain water, it never mattered if you were soaked in rain or that you’d get sick the next day- all you cared for at that exact moment was Sunghoon.

The boy you fell in love with.

The quiet, gentle, and loving boy that you meet on this one rainy day by chance.

Every time it rained, the two of you would talk hours on hours about anything and everything. He would hold your hand in his larger, warmer ones, rubbing his long, thin fingers across the back of your hand in a soft, loving manner and you would lay your head on his shoulders- taking in his soft citrus scent that you grew to love so much that you searched through the entire city of Seoul to find one that only came close to the one he used.

It always felt as if the two of you were the only ones in the world when the rain fell. You felt euphoric when you would hug inside your small world under the roof of the bus stop, and he would tell you how much he loved you.

It might have been fast to other people, but to the two of you- it felt as if it was natural. The love you had for each other felt so strong, so obvious that even without words, passerbys could tell how much the two of you loved each other.

But every time when the rain stopped, the two of you parted ways. As if everything was normal, as if you never knew him more than Park Sunghoon, the son of Park Jaehwan’s son, your biggest competitor in the ice skating world, and the son of your mother’s biggest rival- as if you never spilled “I love you''s to each other.

When the rain stops, so does your heart. It stops beating for anything else in the world and when the rain falls, your heart beats again- in a fast, rapid pace that you’ve never felt before unless you were with Sunghoon.

The rain was your safe haven- for it always meant you could meet Sunghoon again. That you can run without care in the world right into the safety of his arms, and that you could stay there until the rain stops again.

It was clear to you at this point that there was no pulling back. You were in love with the rain as well as the boy in front of you- Park Sunghoon- and there was no way you could ever stop.

Your head twists to the side as a loud slap echoed around the house you never called home. The bright, glowing red mark on your cheek stinging as you see your mother glaring at you with hatred in the corner of your eyes. You notice your dad just sitting on the couch reading his newspaper as if the scene happening in front of him didn’t;t happen at all.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Your mother screamed at you while holding your phone in her hands, your texts with Sunghoon over the years clear to everyone who walks by. “YOU’VE BEEN TALKING TO PARK JAEHWAN'S SON FOR NEARLY A YEAR BEHIND OUR BACKS?!” She screams again, her hand raised and flies down to meet your cheeks with a hard slap, turning your head to the other side.

You don’t dare look at her, too afraid to see what she looked like right now. Your mother had found out about you texting with Sunghoon when she had looked over your shoulder when you were texting him and now here she is- your phone in her death grip and she stared at you with pure hatred in her eyes.

All of the workers in the house silently watched as your mother screamed at you, too afraid of what she might do to them if they spoke up.

You tune out all of the remarks your mother was making at you and you dip your head down, staring at the pair of sneakers Sunghoon bought for you when he saw your soaked shoes one day. Since then, the both of you always exchanged little gifts with each other. And soon enough, the two of you confirmed your feelings with each other.

Although neither of you ever vocally confirmed but it was as clear as the day that you were in love and in a relationship- with all the sweet, flirty talks (that you never knew he could say) from him and all of the actions from you, the two of you made a perfect couple in other’s eyes.

But when your mother found out, she was furious- no. The word furious couldn’t even compare to what she is right now. Her face was red in anger and you could practically see smoke coming out of her nose and ears. Her eyes glared at you as if you were never her daughter and her teeth grinder against each other so hard that you were (slightly, but not really) worried that they might fall out.

“SPEAK! YOU ARE NOT DEAF NOR ARE YOU MUTE. TALK! WHY WERE YOU TALKING TO PARK SUNGHOON?”

You didn’t answer. Knowing you’ll only get even more scolding.

Another slap was delivered to your face when you didn’t answer. This time, the slap was so hard against your head, you could feel your ears ring and your vision turned a bit blurry.

Your father must have seen you look hazy as he finally stood up from his seat on the couch and stopped your mother from slapping you again.

“Stop it now Soonyeon. That’s enough. Y/n go to your room, now. You’re not going to get any food for tonight as a punishment, and if I find any of you giving y/n food,” he pointed towards the maids, “then you will also serve a punishment.” Your father looked at you one more time as you stared at the floor, his stares burning into your skull.

He sighs, “I’m very disappointed in you y/n.” Crack. “Why can’t you just listen to us once and behave?” Crack. “Just…get out of my sight and go to your room. You need to reflect on what you’ve done.” Crack. “And you won’t be getting your phone back until you realize that you need to break up with that…that boy.” And just like that, your father breaks your heart and leaves with your mother towards his office, leaving you alone in the living room.

All of the workers that were just watching rushes up to you to check up and help you. Asking you left and right about how you were feeling, if you needed ice or face cream for your cheeks. You ignore all of them and head right into your room, closing your door loudly, surprising everyone who was in the house.

Tears formed in your eyes as you thought about what your father said. About how he was disappointed in you and that you never behaved the way they wanted you to- even though all you ever did growing up was doing everything they ask (or rather ordered) you to do, wishing for nothing more than a single compliment from them or maybe a single hug from them.

But as you began to grow up, you realized how those things that was normal to everyone else were something impossible for you to get. Your parents only ever cared about their business and their status. Never did they really care about you or your happiness. If they really did, then they would have noticed how happy you sounded when you were texting Sunghoon, or how you were getting happier day by day when you were with Sunghoon- but ah, of course they didn’t. They don’t even care anyways.

Grabbing your old phone from your bedside cabinet, you text Sunghoon with your old number (which he saved for emergencies like these!).

You: Hey Sunghoon, let’s meet up later tonight.

Sunghoonie💞: sure, but are you okay? Why are you texting like that? Is something bothering you?

You smile, feeling giddy to know that Sunghoon could notice these little things about you, but your smile drops as you realize what you needed to tell him later.

You: Um, yeah. I need to tell you something, and I’d rather tell you in person…

Sunghoonie💞: Of course, anything for you. Same place at same time?

You: yeah, like always.

Sunghoonie💞: alright, remember to bring an umbrella tonight, the forecast said it might rain tonight. I love you ❤️

Your heart skips a beat.

You: Thanks Hoonie, you too. I love you too ❤️

You put down your phone and you let out a big sigh. Why did the world hate you so much?

You wait in the bus stop with two cups of hot coffee in your hands.

And somehow, although it was in the middle of winter right now, it was still raining.

You sit under the dimly lit bus station as you wait for Sunghoon to show up. The sky was dark, and the streets were empty and silent. You watched silently as the raindrops fell to the ground in front of you, as you waited, and waited, and waited…but he didn't show up.

It’s been hours since the promised time, and yet he hasn’t shown up. You put down the now cold cups of coffee to check your phone to see if you had missed a message from him or something- but there was nothing. He hasn’t even read your latest message that was sent two hours ago.

Feeling discouraged and cold, you throw the two cold cups of coffee in the nearest trash can as an ambulance speed passes you, in a rush to get to the hospital as fast as they could. Somehow, your heart felt heavy at that moment, as if it was telling you- warning you about something, but you ignored it and started to make your way home.

The rain never stopped. It didn’t stop when you sneaked out the door of your house, it didn’t stop when you got to the station, and it didn’t stop when you were waiting- fuck, it’s still raining now as you walked back home under the same umbrella Sunghoon carried that one day you guys met. The same one that was black and white, the same one that Sunghoon hid behind his backpack when he met you for the third time under the same bus station you were just at.

As you walked your mind kept going over all of the possibilities of why Sunghoon didn’t come. Maybe he was caught by his parents? Or maybe he had something to do last minute?

You walked slowly through the dimly lit streets, your head in the clouds but you never noticed the two shadows that were slowly creeping up behind you.

Before you could even scream, your mouth was covered by a large dirty hand and before you could even process what was happening, you were dragged into a dark alleyway, leaving your (or Sunghoon’s) umbrella on the ground.

“Give us everything on you. Right now.” A hoarse voice calls out beside you and a cold, sharp object pricks your side. Tears rush to your eyes as you begin to shake- terrified for your life, but you don’t move, cold rain drops making your clothes and hair wet.

“I said give me everything on you right. Now!” The man in front of you whisper-yelled, afraid of waking up the neighborhood if he was too loud.

You don’t move, still frozen in fear but a quick, hard slap to your face snaps you out of it.

I don’t wanna die.

You think to yourself.

I still have so many things I want to do. I don’t wanna die.

With a shaky hand, you begin to remove all of the jewelry on you- the earrings you got from your parents when you reached adulthood and the ring you had gotten from your grandmother. You remove your purse from your shoulder before you handed everything to the two thieves.

“Please-please just let me go now, I pro-promise I won’t tell anyone!” Your words shuddered over one another and your voice was shaky, anyone could tell that you were absolutely terrified right now, but the two don’t move.

“We want that too.” The man beside you tells you and he reaches out to touch the necklace on your neck. You shrink yourself away from him, terrified of what he was going to do.

“No! You-you can’t take this! Anything but this!” You yelled at them before they slapped you again making you quickly slap your mouth.

“Shut up you bitch! Do you want to die? Now give us that necklace!” The man in front of you yells while he tries to take the necklace of you himself.

“No!” You try to get away from the man’s hold.

The necklace was something you can not ever give away. It was the first ever gift you had received from Sunghoon, and you didn’t want to ever give it to the filthy criminals that were in front of you.

“Ugh, you bitch! Just give it to us and we’ll leave you alone!” The man beside you tells you as he also joins in the small fight between the man and you for your necklace.

A sudden strike of pain hits you on the side and everything stops.

Slowly, you lose the energy to stand up on your own and you drop down to the floor, a warm, wet substance soaking the back of your shirt, the salty drops of rain hitting your face directly. The two men quickly run away, grabbing all the stuff that you had previously given them when they hear a man shout at the beginning of the alleyway., but not bothering to take your necklace anymore.

Everything felt hazy now, and you couldn’t see anything with your vision bury and black spots filling your vision. You could hear a muffled voice of a man calling for help from you don’t know who, but you could feel your body getting lighter and lighter. The calming sensation of laying on the ground and the cold rain hitting your warm body takes over, and you close your eyes.

Am I dying?

Who are you kidding, of course you were. There was no way you weren’t. A stinging pain was pounding against your left side where one of the men had a knife against you, and it doesn't take a genius to know what happened- even if you were starting to feel more and more sleepy.

Knowing yourself that you’ve already bled too much and that there was no saving you anymore, you let your mind rest and just think about all of the happy things you’ve been through in life- but there were no signs of your parents.

Instead, all you could see when you closed your eyes was the face of your lover. The very man that your parents wanted you to stay away from- the very man you were going to break up with tonight. The man you loved with your whole heart- Park Sunghoon.

His smile, his laugh, all of his small habits, all of the time the two of you skated together, and all of the time you talked under the bus station flew through your mind like a record. All of the happy memories in your too short of a lifetime plays in the matter of a few minutes inside your head, and you do nothing else other than smile when you feel hands over your body, placing you on a soft bed and into an ambulance.

I love you.

You think as tears slowly seeps through the corner of your eyes.

I love you Sunghoon.

His face shows up inside your head again.

Thank you for loving me.

Your hand drops.

And the rain stopped.

Your parents run into the emergency room frantically, both of their hearts heavy with both guilt and worry.

“How is she Doctor?! She’s okay right?” Your mother asks ina. Hurry, not even caring about her image anymore, tears gathered in her eyes as she held onto your father’s arms for support. Your father’s face was void of any emotions but his eyes betrayed him with them over spilling with worry.

Your doctor shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry but the patient had already died when she was on her way to the hospital. I couldn’t do anything for her any more. I’m sorry for your loss. Y/n l/n, time of death; December 8th, 00:13am.” He explains before bowing his head and leaving.

Your mother breaks down in tears as she drops down to the floor, guilt filling her entire body.

If only she didn’t yell at you.

If only she didn’t tell you that you were a disappointment.

If only she didn’t tell you to break up with Sunghoon.

If only she told you she loved you.

Your father stands still as a tear finally runs down one of his eyes. All of the memories of you played over and over again in his mind, from when he first held you in his arms the time when you said your first words, you walking by yourself for the first time, and all of the other things he wished he treasured more when he still had time.

The two of them walked out the door to the emergency room as your body was rolled out with a white blanket on your face by the nurses. Your mother cried even more seeing your body, knowing that everything that happened to you was mostly her fault.

Not far from where your parents stood, another pair of grieving parents were crying over their now dead child.

“This is all your fault!” The woman screamed at her husband. “If you never yelled at him or tried to control him he would’ve never been there!”

The woman breaks down again, as her husband looks down in shame, guilt, and sadness. His only child, his only son was now dead because he tried to make him break up with his beloved.

Sunghoon was now dead because of him.

If only he didn’t yell Sunghoon earlier, then he wouldn’t have tried to meet up with y/n. If he didn’t try to meet with y/n, then he never would’ve died.

Then he would never have been hit by a car.

Maybe it was all because of the two family’s selfishness that led to their only child’s death or perhaps this is just how their story was about to end.

The boy who tried to get to the girl he loved in order to satisfy his father by breaking her heart and the girl who tried to meet with the boy she loved to break his heart. In order to be the good girl her family wanted her to be.

Perhaps it was fate that they both died trying to meet, or maybe they were just never meant to be together and the stars decided to punish them.

How ironic was it that they had both got into an accident near each other, and died on their birthday at the same time?

How ironic that it was their love that led to their own deaths?

How ironic was it, that when the two died, the rain finally stopped?

Mayhaps this was their fate, to fall in love and die. Or maybe, this was all just some kind of sick joke that god played.

Either way, when the rain stopped, two young lovers parted ways. Even death itself could not keep them away.

Hopefully, through their deaths they can finally find their own happiness.

When the rain stops, two lovers parted ways, both of them on their way to meet each other once again at the gates of heaven.

#kdiner #fkp-net #lsn.works #kpc.creators #knet-bakery #Sunghoon #Park SUnghoon #Enhypen #en-#en- sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen angst #en- angst #sunghoon angst #park sunghoon angst #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x fem! reader

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crimsonophelia · 3 years

Note

hi! could i request for an imagine involving childe and a gn reader? the reader is childe’s longtime childhood friend who’s more or less been in love with him since they were young—and they document the extent of their feelings in a diary (complete with embarrassingly detailed paragraphs planning out theirs and childe’s wedding, gushing over every little thing about him, incidents where they felt petty and jealous over childe showing interest in someone else, etc etc.) that they accidentally end up mailing to childe in liyue thinking it was the book they bought him as a gift.

when they realize the mix-up, they try to make a run for the post office to stop it from being sent to him, but it’s no use—it’s already been shipped out and sent off. how childe ends up responding, doing, or reacting is completely up to you! (i apologize if this request was a little long aha; i hope you have a wonderful day!)

featuring: childe x gn!reader

warnings: none

published: april 22 2021

form: imagine

a/n: thank you for requesting!! this is so cute~~ i love wholesome, bashful childe www

you couldn’t believe it. oh my god, you were such a huge, fucking idiot. how could you have gotten the letters mixed up with the bank documents??? the whole point of keeping your ridiculously embarrassing letters to tartaglia separate from the rest of your documents was just so something like THIS could never happen!

the eleventh fatui harbinger had requested a few copies of official documents from northland bank to help zhongli with some funeral parlor legal paperwork, and you happily obliged, jumping at the opportunity to be of help to the boy you’ve admired for so long.

but for some reason, you were feeling particularly airheaded today. the night before, you had written yet another “letter” to tartaglia in your diary, much like the countless other sheets of paper clipped together, filled with endless words of yearning that will never be read by their intended recipient. you wrote:

“my dearest ajax,

i hope life as a harbinger is going well. i quite miss when we were back in snezhnaya as children, but i suppose i should thank celestia that fate brought us back together in liyue. i still cant help but to miss you each and every day, though. it feels like its been so long since we last got together and talked. i remember last time we had an actual conversation was at wangshu inn— was it three, no, four months ago? i cant quite recall. you looked so lovely, as usual. your smile never fails to make me laugh, especially with that one crooked tooth. i still love to bully you about that, you know. hopefully we can meet again soon, sincerely. im tired of being just friends, tartaglia. not when you look at me like that, and not when you always love to put your arm around my shoulder and pull me in to you every time we meet. i dont know how you feel about me—sometimes it appears as if you might feel the same, though i can never be sure. but i digress. life is rather lonely without you, and yet i manage to get by, somehow.

always yours,

[y/n]”

you tucked the letter amidst the stack of all the others, confident that they would never see the light of day. but somehow, somehow, your foolish, sleep-deprived brain mixed the letters in between the documents from the bank, and now tartaglia would know everything. all your foolish musings over the years, fawning over his rogueish charm like a child, yearning for your friend with such humiliating naïveté. this cannot happen. you have to get to him before the mail can, somehow. he was currently staying at an inn nearby the funeral parlor—there’s gotta be a way to be quicker than the mail deliverer.

you hurried out of your office and hailed the first rickshaw you see lined up on the street, and ordered him to drive you to the inn, as soon as humanly possible.

upon arrival, you leapt out of the seat, tossing an indiscriminately large fare at the driver before stumbling onto the sidewalk, almost dropping your things. slamming open the door to the inn, you reach the front counter. asking breathlessly, “which room is mr. tartaglia staying in?”, you hurry to the room the doorman indicates to be the fatui’s residence.

but before you get the chance to even look for the room, you turn the corner and slam into a taller body. to your dismay, you look up and see the face of a shocked tartaglia looking down at you, a stack of papers tucked under his arm. shit.

shit shit shit. this cannot be happening right now. maybe he hasn’t read the letters yet? slim chance, though—he’s always been nosy.

“[y/n]...” Childe looked at you with a pained glint in his eyes. he reached out for your arm with his free hand.

ah. so he knew.

you tried to jerk away, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarassment and the pressure that always comes before tears. things are never going to be the same again. all because of my stupidity.

you felt yourself colliding with the wall of tartaglia’s chest again, as he abruptly dropped all he was holding. a pair of arms wrapped themselves assuredly around your waist, so familiar, yet so foreign. not able to hold yourself together for any longer, you let yourself go, crying into tartaglia’s chest, your voice racked with harsh, humiliating, childish sobs.

“why did you hide it from me for so long?” you felt tartaglia whisper into your hair, his breath grazing your scalp. his warmth was so delicious, something youve been craving for so long finally being satiated.

looking up, his usual charming smirk was much more sad, almost guilt-ridden. “i care about you so much [y/n]. you know you can tell me anything, right?”

gasping for air, you felt so ashamed for making such a scene in front of him. “i was so scared, ajax. scared that i would drag you down, or scared you would leave me behind.” you couldn’t bear to meet the pained gaze of the boy yoy so hopelessly fell in love with.

his rough hand smoothed over your hair, comforting you like he used to, back when you two were children in snezhnaya. drawing you effortlessly closer towards him, until you felt his lips plant a chaste kiss upon your forehead.

“you know i love you, [y/n], don’t you? i always have and i always will.”

you clung on to him tighter, fearing what the world might return to if you ever let go. you couldn’t let him slip through your fingers, not again.

“i don’t want you to suffer because of me anymore, my dear.”

a/n: to clarify YES THIS IS A HAPPY ENDING READER AND CHILDE GET TOGETHER i just didnt wanna go any further and do a complete 180 on the tone lolol i hope this is okay!!

#childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #childe headcanons #childe imagines #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #genshin childe #genshin impact childe #childe fanfic #childe fic #when will i stop writing angst

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the--sad--hatter · 3 years

Text

Steam - Chapter 1 (Loki x Reader)

Warnings - Loki, Smut, Violence & Gore, Swearing, Death, Angst, Dark Humour, Crack Humour, Shenanigan’s, Mutual Pining

Pairing - Loki X Reader (Slow Burn Romance), Enemies to Frenemies to Idiots in Love

Reader Description - Female, No physical descriptions, Only referred to by nicknames & Petnames (No use of Y/N)

Description/Blurb -

“So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

It’s a tale as old as time, boy meets girl, boy tries to invade girls mind, girl sets boy on fire, boy turns into angry blue boy, they become sworn enemies.

When you suddenly become imbued with a power you have no idea how to control, Nick Fury picks you up and dumps you on The Avengers doorstep, deciding that they are best people to turn you from a wacky novice into a force to be reckoned with.

The power burning inside you has the potential to make you a hero, or destroy you completely, but your new fire based abilities are more than they appear, and in a stroke of spectacularly bad luck, The God of Mischief is the most qualified teacher to mentor you. With Loki guiding you, will you ever learn to control your power? Will you ever make it as an Avenger? Or will you crash and burn?

Only one thing is absolutely certain, when fire and ice collide, things are bound to get… steamy!

Chapter One - Ice Breaker

It was every bit as imposing as you’d imagined it would be, not that you’d ever imagined seeing it under these circumstances.

“Are you coming?” Fury barked at you, breaking you out of your slack-jawed awe.

You snapped your mouth closed and tore your eyes away from the legendary tower, looking at the doors where Fury was impatiently waiting for you.

“Coming!” You squeaked, scurrying over to him, “It’s just when you said you were taking me somewhere where I could safely learn to control my powers, I was sort of picturing an underground bunker in the desert, not the freaking Avengers Tower!”

“I utilise the assets I have, why would I send you away when I have a team of perfectly capable super-powered individuals?” He asked wryly, leading you across the lobby and straight past the security teams who did nothing to stop you both as you made your way into an elevator.

“I’m just saying, a heads up would have been nice.” You muttered petulantly, crossing your arms over your chest and tucking your hands out of sight.

You felt him look at you and studiously refused to meet his eye, staring instead at the numbers above the door as you were carried all the way to the top of the Tower.

“Heads up, you’re meeting The Avengers.” He shot back.

You could say what you liked about the former director of Shield, he was true to his word, because the elevator doors wooshed open to reveal a waiting crowd of Avengers, all of them staring at the man next to you with varying levels of annoyance and/or distrust. You diligently pattered after Fury as he stepped forward to greet them, looking around the room reverently.

The first person you laid eyes on was Tony Stark, Iron Man; the billionaire who had kicked off the modern age of hero’s, and next to him, Captain America, the first of the first, the OG Superhero. Stood behind the Captain was Sam Wilson, the Falcon and a personal favourite of yours, side by side with Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier and poster-child for taking back control of your own fate. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye and the deadliest marksman in the world stood to the side with the Black Widow, deadliest person in the world full stop. In the back of the room two other figures were hanging back, emitting two very different aura’s. Doctor Bruce Banner eyed Fury with trepadition, and well-placed mistrust.

It was the last person in the room that the majority of your attention was reserved for, the tall, imposing god who skulked in the shadows. Contempt and boredom radiated from him, and you couldn’t safely say it was directed purely at Fury. He was also the only one who spared you more than a cursory glance, and you slowed to a stop as you found yourself trapped in his curious gaze. You stared back, trying to reconcile the villain who once tried to subjugate the planet with the one you were locking eyes with. It had been months since he had joined the Avengers, but it never stopped being strange to see him standing with them whenever you watched footage of them taking on whatever bad guy of the week they were battling. However, he had been fully cleared of any wrongdoing in the battle of New York, apparently he had been mind-controlled. As to why he was helping the Avengers, nobody really knew.

Someone cleared their throat loudly and you forced yourself to look away from the stupendously tall god, glancing around the room to see that you now had all eyes watching you expectantly. Apparently you’d zoned out for the introductions.

“’Sup?” You offered, waving in Tony Starks general direction.

“So you’re Fury’s fiery friend, what has that got to do with us?” Stark sighed.

“What, you think he bothered to explain his reasoning to me before dragging my ass up here?” You scoffed.

“She’s here because she has abilities, abilities that she is more likely to learn to handle among similarly gifted people.” Fury explained in a tone that brokered no argument.

Naturally, The Avengers argued.

“We don’t have anybody with fire abilities.” You heard Natasha Romanoff point out, just before you took the opportunity to zone out again.

You were absolutely certain that nobody cared very much what your opinion on the matter was, thankfully. You weren’t sure you had an opinion on the matter. It wasn’t like you had a lot of experience with these kinds of issues, and as far as you were away there wasn’t some superhero academy that you could enrol yourself in. Besides, you were much more interested in re-instating your staring competition with the god of Mischief.

In the brief time you’d been distracted, he’d stepped away from the shadows and moved closer to you, staring at you with his arms crossed.

You resisted the urge to inhale deeply, who knew ex-murderous gods would smell so nice? You looked up, and then up again.

“How tall are you?” You asked incredulously.

His gaze flickered down at you impassively, while you stared back and tried to mentally calculate his height.

“I’m a Frost Giant.” He stated coldly.

“Oh in that case, you’re kinda short.” You scoffed.

You were flooded with immediate remorse but it was drowned out by amusement.

“I beg your pardon?” He demanded, uncrossing his arms and stepping into your personal space.

“Down boy.” Iron Man sniggered, stepping between you. “So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

“So you’re a baby.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“If I say yes does that mean I can just sit on the floor and cry until someone picks me up and holds me?” You asked, fully willing to give it a go.

It had been three days since your life had literally gone up in flames, three days of pinning your arms at your sides, afraid to close your eyes, afraid to let your guard down for even a split second, afraid to allow yourself to feel even an iota of emotion.

“So how did it happen?” The Captain asked firmly, getting the conversation back on track before you could find out if anyone would volunteer a hug.

“I, well, I kind of…” You trailed off and looked at Fury for help, but he just stared back at you, the bastard.

All eyes were on you as they waited for you to explain, nobody offering any kind of help. You exhaled forcefully and slumped your shoulders, tucking your chin so you didn’t have to look at them anymore.

“I ate a bomb.” You whispered.

There was a very long beat of silence before it was broken by several voices all at once.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stark demanded.

“What did it taste like?” The archer wondered, looking at you almost giddily.

“She didn’t eat a bomb.” Fury finally stepped in to clarify, “She absorbed the blast, after failing to defuse it.”

“Why was a civilian defusing a bomb in the first place?” Captain Rogers asked sharply, glancing at you in concern before turning back to Fury with a hard expression.

“I’m not a civilian, I’m actually an Agent.” You reasoned.

“She’s an Agent-In-Training.” Fury rebutted. “It was her first mission in the field.”

“Baby.” Stark reiterated, faking a cough and smirking at you when you scowled at him.

That was true, and you still didn’t think it was entirely your fault that the bomb had gone off. Yes you’d failed to diffuse it, but you were supposed to be watching the perimeter when you’d stumbled across the explosive device. It had less than thirty seconds on the clock, and you’d stupidly chosen to spend those seconds trying to stop it detonating instead of running away.

“And you put her on bomb duty? Were you trying to get her blown up?” The Black Widow demanded, and you almost laughed until you saw the serious expression on her face.

“There wasn’t supposed to be a bomb there, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Fury shrugged, like it was inconsequential.

To him it probably was.

“She is still in the room, and I was exactly where you told me to be, when you told me to be there. If your intel was bad, that’s on you Mr Superspy.” You snapped.

“Oh I see it now!” Stark briskly announced, “You’re trying to pawn her off on us because she’s too sassy for you.”

“Precisely.” Fury admitted, surprisingly.

“In the words of shortstack over there,” You hissed, gesturing at Loki “I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t have the temperance to be an Agent.” Fury told you blankly, not bothering to soften the blow by at least telling you this in private instead of in front of the world greatest heroes.

“I’d take that as a compliment.” Stark assured you.

“You’re telling me I’m fired? Literally. Because I got blown up, through no fault of my own?” You huffed, clenching your firsts in an effort to keep your emotions from manifesting in a fiery inferno of rage.

“Because you choose to try and handle a bomb you had no training to handle, instead of pursuing the target.” Fury amended, unphased by your distress.

You bit back your retort because you knew it wouldn’t matter to him in the slightest. You couldn’t reason with him, couldn’t explain that you had made the choice not to pursue the target who’d planted the bomb, because you had to try and stop it exploding in a building filled with innocent people. Maybe Fury was right after all. Maybe you weren’t suited to being an Agent, because an Agent would have known that they couldn’t stop the bomb but they could stop the bomber. They would have let a hundred innocent people die and stopped the killer from killing a thousand more the next time. You weren’t an Agent because you’d chosen to die trying to save the hundred, and trusted in Fury and Hill to take down the Bomber.

Of course, that wasn’t what had happened, and in the end nobody had died.

“None of this explains how you ‘ate’ the bomb.” Clint Barton pointed out, and it was a good observation.

“That’s because we don’t have an explanation. She went through the standard medical tests in her training, and all her bloodwork and scans indicated she was fully human. She walked into that building as a human being, and walked back out after absorbing a bomb, as who the hell knows what.”

“So you’ve never done anything like this before?” Dr Banner asked you, speaking directly to you for the first time.

“Not even remotely. I mean my eyes water when I eat chilli.” You shrugged.

“Fascinating.” Banner muttered. “Inhuman?” He asked, turning to Stark.

“Unlikely, she would have probably noticed going through Terragenesis.” Stark responded. “Mutant?” He shot back.

“No, the mutant gene would have shown up in testing.” Dr Banner sighed, looking you over with a scientifically calculating eye. “Can you explain what happened in more detail?”

“Sure, bomb went boom, I went AHHHHHH, and then it was all bright and hot and then the boom went away.” You told them.

“So how do we know that it was you? What if something else contained the blast?” Someone asked, and you looked around before you finally realised it was Sam Wilson who had spoken.

“No, it was… it definitely me.” You sighed.

“How do you know?” Bucky Barnes interjected, backing up the Falcons line of questioning.

That was the million dollar question. How could you be sure that you had anything to do with the bomb, that you had been imbued with fire power?

“During the post-mission de-brief, there was an incident.” You alluded, side-eying Fury and taking a not-so-subtle step away from him.

“Please tell me you tried to set him on fire?” Barton asked giddily, looking between you and your former boss.

When Fury levelled you with a glare and you developed a sudden vested in the ceiling, the Archer sniggered joyfully. You chanced a look around the room and saw that Barton wasn’t the only one exhibiting mirth at the idea of Fury being set ablaze by your.. well, your fury.

“He was yelling at me!” You defended, taking yet another step back when his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky you had no aim and only managed to set fire to the table.” He snapped.

“I think you were the lucky one.” Stark sniggered at Fury.

“Do you want her or not?” Fury sighed.

“Do I get a say in this?” You objected.

“No.” Fury, Stark, Romanoff, and Loki said in unison.

“I can run some tests to figure out what happened to you, if it’s reversible.” Banner offered comfortingly. “With your permission of course.”

“I’m gonna go stand over there with him.” You huffed, making a beeline for the doctor and awkwardly hiding behind him.

“Yeah, we’ll take her, should be an interesting riddle to solve.” Stark shrugged.

Captain Rogers and his buddies glanced at you before appearing to have a silent conversation.

“She can stay here while Stark and Banner figure out what happened, and we can go from there.” The Captain finally decided.

“We’ll take good care of her.” Loki added with a charming smile.

His eyes said something completely different, and you had a sick feeling that you were going to be made to pay for your short jokes.

“Glad I meet your approval; I was worried I was going to fall short.” You sarked, immediately resisting the urge to punch yourself in the face.

“Approval has nothing to do with it. Of all The Avengers, who do you think will be responsible for testing your abilities? You would do well to remember that I am more than mischief and lies, I am the god of chaos and fire.” He warned you cockily, visibly delighting in the way your grin faltered.

You shot a pleading look around the room, but nobody was refuting Loki’s claim. In fact, they were nodding thoughtfully, or in Stark’s case; shrugging apologetically at you. You turned back to Loki, ignoring the deep sense of foreboding in your stomach.

“Well Fe-Fi-Fo-Fuck.”

I have been trying to get back into writing for so long, and this is my last attempt. If this doesn’t work then I am out of ideas.

I know this is a boring start but I have been re-working and rewriting it for days and I can’t improve it. If you enjoyed any part of this, please do tell me! If you didn’t, then tell me that as well. Just give me any feedback at all, I’d appreciate it so so so so so much.

For those of you unaware (especially on AO3), I haven’t been writing for a while because my estranged mother passed away and it brought up issues that needed to be dealt with, but all that is over with now. Thank you to everyone who sent supportive messages and was patient with me ❤

Steam Taglist (Open, please send an ask to be added)

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@myfandomlife-blog @cateyes315 @ibraggins27 @midgardian-mistress @cinnamonmouse8 @nonsensicalobsessions @sarahs-castle-of-clouds @marvelsangels @queenneso @momobaby227 @lovely-lynns-likes @thelastemzy @aroundnothingsoundsright @bluemoon1066 @iluvsumbucky @astridmargrethe @delicatelygloriousphoenix @lisas-stuff-and-junk

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@helloimanavenger @littleredstarfish @dilaila95 @buckysknifecollection @justellu @spnrvt @deathofmissjackson @sexyvixen7 @fairislesheets @rvgrsbrns @dahkness @jazztherebel @tell-me-a-poem @hiddles-rose @severepienerdturkey @life-wanderer @unlikelygalaxygiver @fangirlwithatrowel @abo4280ooof @destiel-artemis @dilaila95 @tarastudiesalot @toxic-pineapple @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @breezy1415 @chaoticfiretaconerd @marvelfansworld @stareyedplanet @themusingsofmany @zeannastardust @littleredstarfish @sammyissassy @alexakeyloveloki @kaz22992 @inquisitor-selvala @lianadelphius @happybookmuffin @tony-stank3 @amoonagedaydreamer @dropthepizza346 @my-drowning-in-time @lianadelphius @belles-garden @lieswithoutfairytales @rororo06 @lookalivefrosty @stuckupstucky @blackjay04 @thefallenbibliophilequote @solarsystembitch @thefifthmaraud3r @smokeandnailz @marvelsangels @thefridgeismybestie @sigyns-world @demirooijakkers @the-lake-is-calling @the-swedish-fist @thelastemzy @yet-another-fan-girl9 @sassy-potato-yall @legend-o-zelda

#Loki #Loki x Reader #The Avengers #Avengers x Reader #Deadpool

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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.6k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mentions of sexual content

A/N: please do tell me your thoughts on this chapter ! lots of things are going on at once and you may not be happy with me about all of them fskjfksdfjsd

DAY TWENTY-FIVE

You wake up to hair tickling your nose. Flinching away automatically, you’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s distinctive curls as he snores against your chest. His weight presses you against the bed, one of his hands tucked around the nape of your neck and a leg hooked over your hip. Even though Tae was a cuddler, this was closer than he tended to be.

Coming to sit on the side of the bed above you, you catch sight of Jimin leaning in with a fond, albeit sleep-deprived smile to ruffle Taehyung’s hair and then gently buff you on the cheek. You can’t help but return his smile, but it only takes a moment for the reminders of reality to flood back into your mind.

Jimin, already fully-dressed and with subtle sweeps of pearlescent silver on his lids, frowns at your change in demeanour. “He’ll be okay,” he whispers, not needing to ask you what’s on your mind.

You nod, careful not to jostle the sleeping man on your chest. Part of you just wants to fall back unconscious with him until things are back to normal, though the thought of going into town to visit Yoongi gives you something to stay awake for. “Are the others up?”

“Not yet,” Jimin mumbles, glancing towards the door as if he could see them from his spot on the bed. “I wanted to let them sleep. I’ve been messaging hyung.”

Fighting the urge to sit up, your eyes widen. “Is he doing okay?”

Jimin shrugs. “I doubt he’d admit over text if he wasn’t, but he seemed hopeful. His father is starting to stay awake for longer bouts of time, almost enough to hold a conversation.”

“That’s good,” you respond in a small voice, though it’s just a guess, your voice lilting at the end in uncertainty. You didn’t know anything about heart attacks, had never been confronted by them in your life, and could only assume that responsiveness was a positive sign.

Taehyung shifts on top of you, and you freeze, waiting for him to adjust himself, grumble a bit, and continue snoozing.

Jimin quirks a smile, gets up, and makes his way around to your side of the bed. Lying on top of the covers, he turns his face to you, so close you feel the tip of his nose bump yours. “Y/n,” he starts off slowly, eyes swimming in some unreadable emotion.

You find yourself unable to break the gaze. “Mm?”

“I don’t want to wait.”

Your brows furrow. “Wait for what? The others?”

“No, no,” he dismisses, plush lips protruding a little in insistence. “I… This has me thinking. The whole situation with Yoongi’s father, I mean. I can’t imagine any of us here are exactly at risk of heart failure, but it does make me think about just how much is left up to fate.” He drops his eyes, then, tilting onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. You feel a nudge on the back of your hand, and look down to see Taehyung unconsciously reaching out, wrapping his fingers around yours. When you look up, Jimin still hasn’t continued. His jaw works, like he’s toying with the right words to say.

When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, smooth murmur, barely loud enough for the two of you to hear. “Our plan of waiting until we can date like normal seemed logical at the time. But I care so much about the two of you. Too much. It seems foolish to postpone anything just to play it safe.”

You blink, stunned by the vulnerability in his voice and the words it delivers. “So… What are you saying, Jimin?”

He swivels, quick enough to jiggle the bed, and Taehyung whines against your collarbone, slowly beginning to rouse from sleep. Jimin doesn’t notice, his eyes burning twin fires as he leans in close again. “I don’t want to wait to tell you I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back without hesitation. Jimin’s hands reach out gently to cup the sides of your face so tenderly, eyes crinkling, and suddenly you feel the sting of tears. Taehyung’s weight begins to shift and lift off of you, rolling onto the other side of the bed, and the sudden change has you feeling unmoored. “This is going to get messy, Jimin. You know that.”

“What’s going to get messy?” Beside you, Taehyung pushes himself up onto one elbow, blearily rubbing at his eyes.

Instead of responding, Jimin’s teeth peek out from a grin as he launches himself over you and collides with Taehyung mouth-first, gripping his t-shirt and holding him close for a few, meaningful moments.

When they break apart audibly, Taehyung looks stunned still, and Jimin lets out a disbelieving laugh, like he can’t even process his own enthusiasm. “Tae-tae, I love you,” he announces in visible delight, smile stretching.

Taehyung’s eyes widen and glisten, and his fingers jump up to wrap around Jimin’s wrist. “Minnie,” he breathes, and the three words that follow don’t need to be voiced for you - and Jimin - to hear them.

Straightening up further and turning to address the both of you, Jimin looks like a mad scientist on the verge of a breakthrough, his previously coiffed appearance looking decidedly rumpled. “It- I don’t care if it’s messy,” he confesses, “I don’t. And I don’t care that it’s scary, or that I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to- to this, or that we’re still in the show. You make me happy, both of you, and I love both of you, and…” He cuts himself off to swallow and suck in a breath, fingers clenching in the fabric of Tae’s shirt that he never let go of. “And I think I deserve to have this.”

When he puts it like that, you have no rebuttals. Sitting up to meet him halfway, you seek out his lips and let your eyes fall closed to savour the closeness.

Jimin kisses you like he never has before. It’s free, unfiltered, and not in the greedy, intense way he kissed you when you were scening together. Jimin kisses you like he’s entirely liberated, like he could spend an eternity with his lips joined to yours, unhurried and assured.

Your lungs lighten with a lack of oxygen, but you refuse to part from the softness of his embrace until you’re physically tugged out of it.

Taehyung pouts up at you, tilting his chin up. Even as he feigns being playful, you know what he’s asking for, and it’s more than just a kiss.

You turn to him, bending until your cheek is pressed to his. “Taehyungie, I love you,” you profess into his ear, lips curled at just how true it is, at how light it makes you feel to say it.

“That’s a relief,” he mumbles, pulling back just enough to give you an indulgent yet chaste kiss, mouthing the words I love you too against your mouth. With a dreamy sigh, he collapses back onto the mattress and bats his eyes up at Jimin. “I hope this confession doesn’t make you too soppy.”

“And why is that?” Jimin asks, a hand lazily running up and down Taehyung’s side, skimming his hip and dipping beneath his shirt to rub his soft stomach.

Arching into the touch like a pleased pet, Taehyung shrugs in mock-innocence. “Y/n and I still need someone to rail us,” he states. “When is mean Minnie going to come out again?”

Jimin’s eyes glint at the prospect, and suddenly you see the expression of the man who originally entered the Villa. The cocksure, unforgiving dom who had you weak at the knees from the start. If it didn’t send a spark of arousal through you, you’d probably be impressed at how naturally he brings it to the surface. “If you’re needing a little discipline, Taehyung, you only have to ask. I won’t be so soft on you next time. I hope you don’t regret it.”

Shameless, Taehyung pouts and whines deep in his throat, wrapping his lower half around where Jimin’s seated. “Well, don’t do it now,” he scolds in a small voice, “it’s not fair making me horny before we go to the hospital. You better fix this.”

The mention of the hospital sobers you all up a bit, but Jimin just furrows his brow down at Taehyung, pushing him flat on his back with a single strong hand, and using that same hand to palm roughly at Taehyung’s crotch, a tent beginning to form in the boxer shorts Tae had worn to bed.

Taehyung keens, but lays back obediently and lets Jimin massage him to full hardness, heavy breaths pushed out of his nose.

“Come on, then,” Jimin says after a moment and removes his hand entirely to stand up, ignoring Taehyung’s indignant gasp, “let’s take a shower and get that little demon back under control. Y/n?”

“It’s not little,” Taehyung grumbles under his breath as he gets up and hobbles toward the bathroom with a visible erection.

You sit up, shaking your head at Jimin’s question. “I want to check on the others when they wake and let them know we’re visiting Yoongi today. Maybe pack some of the leftovers in the fridge so the Min family have some decent food there.”

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, half-turns as if to leave, then freezes, waiting until Taehyung disappears inside the bathroom, turning the shower on with inaudible muttering. “Y/n,” he starts, huffing out a breath and letting his shoulders relax. “I know it’s not only us.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “Huh?”

He sends you a smile, halfway between shared humour and resignation. “You really should tell Yoongi-hyung.”

Before you can process the response, he’s in the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Down in the kitchen, Jin has bet you to the leftovers, bent over the counter with a red-stained pair of chopsticks hovering above the bowl. Mouth full, he puffs his cheeks in a smile of greeting.

You slink behind him to grab a mug for coffee, admiring the broad planes of his shoulder blades beneath a fine knit sweater. “I was going to bring those for the Mins today,” you say with a mock sigh, mind already straining to think of what else you could bring.

Jin is one step ahead of you. Without pausing his chewing, he props himself up on his elbow and points the set of chopsticks at the dining room table, which you didn’t notice is laden with tupperware containers, stocked with different foods. “Couldn’t sleep,” he states after finishing his mouthful. “What time are we heading in?”

You shrug, using the coffee machine to brew a cup entirely on auto-pilot. “Jimin and Taehyung are awake, but I’m not sure about the others. Let’s wait a bit and then check in with Yoongi.”

With a slow nod, Jin carefully sets his chopsticks down, balancing on the brim of the bowl. “You worried me last night,” he admits softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he rebuts without hesitation, turning to offer you his open arms. Abandoning the coffee, you step forward into his embrace, the tension in your muscles loosening the second he tugs you in closer with a strong arm around the small of your back. If he tilts his chin up, he can rest it on the top of your head, and you smother a giggle at the odd feeling of it moving against you as he continues to talk. “All that matters is that you’re okay. Are you okay?”

You melt against his chest, linking your hands around the back of his neck to return the hug. “Mostly,” you say after a moment.

Jin hums, making no move to break apart the hug, and begins to gently rock the two of you back and forth, free hand running lazy figure eights up and down your back. “I’ll take it. Maybe after we visit Yoongi, you’ll be a little more okay.”

“I think so,” you murmur into his sweater. Truth be told, you feel so safe and at peace in Jin’s unhurried embrace that you feel somewhat better already. Closing your eyes to enjoy the slow swaying, you let go of the thought that’s been festering in the back of your mind for a while now. “Does it feel like everything’s falling apart to you? Not- not all at once and dramatic, but like we’re all unraveling on a single thread.”

When Jin sucks in a deep breath, his chest puffs and jostles you slightly. “I understand what you mean. I don’t think it is, though.”

“You don’t?” Suddenly, the snug grip around you loosens, and Jin pulls back to release you from his hold, hands slipping down to link with yours. You miss his warmth immediately, feeling slightly unsteady on your feet. “But Yoongi might not come back. And- And I voted you off and now I’ll have to keep voting you off and it just feels worse every time, and it feels like nobody is really doing this just for the competition anymore and... “ You find yourself falling short, unable to articulate your thoughts. Jin waits patiently, his deep brown eyes watching you kindly. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. For everything to turn sour.”

“It might,” Jin admits, gaze darting up and around in thought, until it catches on the coffee machine, sputtering out the last few drops. He squeezes your hands reassuringly before letting them go, and moves over to grab the coffee cup as he continues talking, pouring some milk from the fridge just how you like it. “But then again, it might not. I think focussing on that worry too much will only make it more likely to happen, or will at least prevent you from enjoying the good things to come.”

“Maybe.” You take your coffee from him with a grateful smile, though you’re still not convinced. “How do I just ignore that dread, then?”

Jin leans back against the counter top, shrugging with a thoughtful look on his face. “We have no control over whether Yoongi returns or not. The best we can do is support him through a difficult time. Then, even if he doesn’t come back to the show, I’m sure we’ll stay close. That’s what you really fear, isn’t it? That this house is the only thing tying us together?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, you nod silently. Even hearing Jin say it aloud strikes a note in your heart, and the pang of Yoongi’s absence flares up with it.

The therapist just gives you a warm, genuine smile. “Then I have good news, Y/n. It’s not true. Ask any one of us. The grounds we met may have been set up, but it’s far beyond that now, and I think you feel that yourself, deep down. At the very least, I fully intend to bless you with my companionship for the rest of your life. You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

Despite yourself, you let out a surprised laugh, and feel your worries ease. “As long as you still cook for me sometimes,” you bargain, and Jin mock-winces, before reaching out to link your pinky fingers together in promise. “You have a deal,” he declares, moments before you hear a rolling thunder of feet banging down the stairs.

Practically tumbling into the kitchen, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook barrel into each other with heavy breaths. All three have jackets on and are holding pairs of shoes, like they’re ready for a school trip. Jimin and Namjoon join behind them a few moments later, far more calmer than the formers, but are equally dressed-up.

“Guys!” Jungkook pants, hand whirling at the door like he’s directing traffic. “We gotta go!”

“Is Yoongi okay?” you ask immediately, heart skipping a beat at the fearful looks on their faces.

“No,” Taehyung says in a frantic, thick voice, “hyung said the hospital served him plain toast and orange juice for breakfast. With pulp! We gotta get something to him and his family fast, that’s like prison food!”

A heavy breath whooshes out of your lungs, and your body goes weak, nearly tipping your coffee over by the handle. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that! Okay, let me just get my jacket and we can head there. Jin already made some food.”

You’re just reaching the doorway before Namjoon sucks in a dramatic gasp. You turn around to watch him raise a hand to cover his mouth, looking around at all of you.

“How… How are we going to get there? We don’t have a car, and Sejin isn’t here today.”

Jimin’s shoulders sink, and his eyes fall shut in visible pain. “Shit. Then we only have one choice.”

Taehyung frowns and reaches back to rub Jimin’s shoulders in encouragement. “Hey, how bad can it be?”

Jimin stiffens and glares out the window as a beefy stranger in sweaty workout clothes bumps into him after the bus takes a tight left turn. “Hey, hyung?”

Jin, with one hand in his pants pocket and the other on one of the overhead loops, glances up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t suppose you’d have room for one more patient at your practice?”

With a click of his tongue, Jin shakes his head. “You’ll survive, Your Majesty.” The bus hits a road bump at speed, sending the gym rat knocking into Jimin, pinning him against the side of the bus, before using Jimin’s shoulder to catch his balance again. Instead of apologising, the man gives a short laugh and moves back, lifting a hand up to grab onto the bar and exposing the dark sweat stain on his armpit. Jin’s face goes pale. “Tuesdays at seven.”

The professional porn star grits his teeth, staring past Jin’s broad shoulders to the scrolling LED display at the front of the bus, an automated voice announcing the stop in unison to the text running across the screen. “We’re the next stop,” he declares with a shiver of relief. “Come on; I’m heading to the doors.”

With a brute determination, Jimin winds past high school students, office workers and small families alike, collecting you all on the way. Most of you had managed to get seats together or sitting next to strangers, but Jimin and Jin were the last ones to get on (Jimin out of sheer reluctance, Jin because he’d taken on the role of counting heads) and missed out on the luxury of sitting down.

The bus driver truly had no qualms about speeding through the streets of Seoul, shaking the metal carriage from side to side with abandon. It was nothing you weren’t used to, but for Jimin, his first time riding a bus certainly didn’t seem to be a pleasant or tolerable one.

Before long, you’re on steady ground again, breathing in the cool air outside Severance Hospital. Now so close to Yoongi again, you feel anxious to get inside and find him, but Jin insists on double-checking you’re all still in one group. Once he’s satisfied, he leads from behind and you make your way to the front entrance of the massive building.

Inside, the lady at the reception directs you to the cafeteria, where Yoongi said he’d meet you. Secretly relieved that you weren’t going to his father’s hospital room, you make your way there and pick two tables by the windows, pushing them together to make enough room for the eight of you.

Even just counting the eight chairs has your eyes pricking, and you find yourself unable to sit still waiting for Yoongi. A single day feels like a lifetime of anxiety, and even as you and Taehyung watch Jungkook play a game on his phone with running commentary, your gaze keeps darting to the automatic doors every five seconds.

Because of your intense vigilance, it’s you who spots him first, the mop of dirty blonde hair (the mint barely still clinging to the ends) catching your eye the second the doors open.

You get up without words, leaving the group. Noticing your sudden absence, you hear them the moment they see Yoongi waving shyly and tiredly, but you have a few metres advantage, and it’s you who meets him halfway before anyone else.

It’s all you can do to hold yourself back from running in the hospital cafeteria, but by the time you get close enough to see the puffiness under his eyes, you dash the last few steps and wrap him in a tight hug, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

Your heart is racing wildly, and you can feel an unmatched but equally frantic rhythm beat against you too, Yoongi holding onto you just as strongly.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”

His voice brings tears to your eyes, harsh and unforgiving, and you have to fight the tremble in your lip to return the sentiment. You feel arms around you from behind, the pressure increasing as the others join the hug. The vulnerable tone of Jungkook, Namjoon’s broad hand on your shoulder, the relieved sigh from Taehyung, Jimin’s deceptively strong body weaving into the center. There’s an absence, still, and you all break apart the group hug after a few moments, seeking the final member out.

To your surprise, Jin is only a step behind you all. Preventing him from joining the hug, however, are the tears wetting his face and blurring his vision, eyes squeezed shut in an unsuccessful attempt to stem the wave of emotion. He sobs silently, breaths uneven and shoulders shaking, trying to wipe his face with clumsy hands but only soaking them too, knuckles pressed to his eyes.

Yoongi lets out a wounded noise, hurrying forward despite him exhaustion. “Hyung, hey, shh, I’m here.” He hooks onto Jin around his waist with one arm and gently tugs one of Jin’s hands away from his reddening face, pressing it to Yoongi’s own cheek in an invitation to look at him. “I’m okay. I’m here now, I’m with you.”

Jin hiccups, visibly fighting to calm down as he blinks through streaming eyes to look down at the younger man. “It wasn’t the same,” he sniffles, “it’s not right without you.” He takes in a single, laboured breath and swallows the thickness in his throat, slowly settling with Yoongi in his arms. “Is your dad okay?”

Yoongi lets out a laugh of disbelief, pulling Jin back towards the tables you’d been waiting at. The rest of you migrate there too, nobody wanting to let Yoongi get too far. “He’s doing fine, actually. Fine for a Min, at least. Near-death experience and he’s already getting my older brother to get him tickets for the Samsung Lions game next week.”

The eight of you sit, finally filling all the chairs the way it should be. Jin takes some tissues from Hoseok’s small satchel to clean up his face, nodding soberly. “That’s really good to hear, Yoongi-ah. All of us were so worried.”

Pressing his lips together in a sad smile, Yoongi looks around at you all. “I was too. I- I really appreciate you all coming in to visit. Dad’s recovering, but… it’s still scary. They’re keeping him here for a bit longer, and after that he’s going to live with my brother for a bit since he lives closer.”

Hoseok, on the other side of Yoongi, leans in for a side hug, pouting. “I can’t even imagine. How are the others holding up?”

“Mom’s doing okay. She’s always been the strongest out of all of us. Yoonji took it really hard. Her and dad have always been the closest. She hasn’t left his bedside since we got here. She says to say hi, though.”

Your heart aches for the poor girl, unable to picture her so despairing after how she’d been in her short time at the Villa. There’s a question on your tongue, but you feel hesitant about bringing it up at the wrong time.

Jungkook, however, has no such concerns, sitting beside you, opposite Yoongi, with bambi eyes. “Does that mean you’re coming back home, hyung?”

Yoongi lets out a small breath at the use of home, and nods after a moment. “Tomorrow, I think. I haven’t talked to Sejin about it yet.”

Jin presses his lips together. “Leave that up to us, Yoongi-ah, just focus on you and your family right now. Oh! That reminds me-” he pushes the bulging grocery bag down the table to Yoongi. “That’s for you all to have. Taehyung told me the food here wasn’t so good.”

“You didn’t have to,” Yoongi breathes, eyes wide as he glances between his hyung and the stacked tupperwares, “but thank you. I’m sure they’ll love your cooking as much as I do.”

“Ah, now you’re laying it on too thick,” Jin deflects with a wave of his hand, though you catch the pink in the tips of his ears. His eyes are still reddened, and when the attention is off him you think you catch his lip tremble a few times, but other than that he seems to have settled down again, relieved just as you are to have Yoongi in your company again.

Jungkook, on the other hand, hasn’t looked away from Yoongi for a single second, eyes wide and focused in as if he might vanish at any moment. The rest of you chat about how strange it is to be outside of the show, and how long ago that first night now feels, but Jungkook offers up nothing. He’s across from Yoongi, Taehyung lazily tugging his hand into his lap and leaning on his shoulder, but even that doesn’t deter his watchful gaze.

It’s not until Yoongi is sharing a story about the horror on his brother’s face when they received their first meal at the hospital that suddenly Jungkook is pitching forward in his seat, elbows crashing on the slightly wobbly cafeteria table. “Hyung!” he blurts, cutting the elder off mid-sentence.

Yoongi’s brows lift in shock, eyes darting to the youngest. “Yeah, Jungkookie?”

“Can I- can we, uh talk in private?” Jungkook swallows, looking smaller and more vulnerable than usual, wearing a zip-up hoodie that’s entirely too big for him and with his hair tucked behind his ears. After Yoongi acquiesces, the two disappear down a hall that leads to a private outdoor smoking area, leaving the remaining six of you in confused silence.

“What was that all about?” Hoseok asks after a moment, glancing back and forth at all of you. “Did I miss something?”

“I think we all missed something,” Namjoon responds quietly, equally befuddled. “Jungkook did seem pretty distressed.”

Taehyung, without a shoulder to lean on, sits up and tries to bury his worries. “Let’s just wait and see what happens when they get back. If it’s important, I’m sure they’ll tell us, right?”

“Maybe they’re just re-enacting The Bachelor,” Jin theories, “if Jungkook comes back with a single rose, be suspicious.” He pauses, eyes narrowed in thought. “Or Yoongi’s fly was down and Jungkook didn’t want to embarrass him in front of everyone. There are too many variables here.”

“They could be planning a surprise birthday party for one of us,” Hoseok offers up.

“Or one of us has been replaced by an alien and Yoongi is the only one Jungkook can trust,” Taehyung suggests, voice wary.

“Or they’re elo-” Jimin cuts himself off, head darting to the side. “Oh, here they come. Yeah, they definitely just eloped.”

The two guilty parties are doing a miserable job of playing casual. As they approach the table again, Yoongi is in front with red cheeks and bright eyes, surreptitiously pressing his lips together, and Jungkook is trailing behind with a hand fisted in the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt, unable to contain his grin.

“So…” Hoseok trails off meaningfully, beaming at the two of them. “When’s the honeymoon?”

Jungkook’s smile drops, replaced by genuine confusion. “Huh?”

Hoseok blinks. “Didn’t you two just-?”

“Just what?” Shaking off his frown, Jungkook cheers up again. “Hyung is letting me stay in the hospital overnight!”

“What?” you blurt out incredulously, not expecting that to be the reasoning for the strange meeting.

“I’ve never stayed overnight before,” Jungkook gushes, feet tapping on the floor tile in excitement, “and I read somewhere that the fourth floor is haunted. But you need to either be the one in hospital or be family for them to let you stay. Yoongi’s gonna vouch for me and say I’m his brother.”

“In exchange for…” Yoongi starts emphatically, eyes intense and serious.

Jungkook huffs, but it doesn’t dampen his obvious thrill. “In exchange for buying Yoongi lamb skewers from the restaurant down the street tonight and tomorrow morning. What a deal, right?”

Taehyung perks up, eyes wide. “Wait, can I stay too? I wanna see the ghosts!”

“There are no ghosts in the-” Jin begins with a sigh, but Jungkook interrupts, placing a gentle hand on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, hyung,” he murmurs softly, “but the doctors would never believe you’re one of the Mins. You’re too hot.”

Yoongi’s mouth drops open in apparent offense, before he cocks his head to the side. “You do realise you’re also insulting yourself, right, Jungkook?”

“Listen, that’s not important now,” Jungkook insists simply. “Tae-tae-hyung, I promise I’ll facetime you from the fourth floor. Be ready for the witching hour.”

Taehyung swallows in reverence and nods. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, pinching his brow. “What have I signed up for?”

By the time conversation naturally starts to die off, your social batteries draining, it’s time for Yoongi (and Jungkook, apparently) to go back up to the room for dinner. The remaining six of you make your way home on the bus with distinctly less fanfare than when you arrived, all a little exhausted from the onslaught of public spaces after being in the Villa for so long.

It’s weird how tiring it is just being in society, even when you weren’t really interacting with anyone else. But everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief when you let yourselves in the front door and collapse in the living room inside, Jin making some coffee and the rest of you taking a moment to rest your weary feet.

The absence is still felt, even more so with Jungkook gone too, but it’s far less distressing. Instead, the quiet is a little calming, like a lazy day in after a stressful week. Jimin and Taehyung head upstairs early, and you let them go alone, sensing they’re wanting some time to themselves.

Downstairs, Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon and you spread out on two couches, cradling hot mugs to wake you up a little. It’s easy enough to sit in silence for a bit, but then Hoseok is sitting up, biting on his lip.

“If Yoongi-hyung is coming back tomorrow,” he starts softly, “then what does that mean for all of this? Do we just… start it back up? The competition, I mean.”

“I guess so,” you venture. “But we can’t exactly start a week on a Friday. Maybe Sejin will wait for Monday?”

“Eh, it’s all the same to me,” Jin quips. “Not much skin in the game anymore, huh?”

A flash of guilt strikes your face as you recall only days ago the way he’d been so blindsided by your elimination. It was hard to say if you regretted the decision; you’d originally hoped taking the competition out of the equation would make things simpler, but the fallout that followed and the unsteady peace between the two of you doesn’t really feel worth it. Despite that, there was no easy choice, and for all you know the exact thing could happen with whoever you vote out. You just wish you had some conviction for it.

Jin notices your expression and frowns, but before he can open his mouth, Namjoon pitches in. “I’m kind of dreading going back to it,” he admits, scratching at his knee through a small hole in his pants, “but at the same time I wish we could go back to it already. At least it was consistent. This whole break just makes me anxious.”

“It definitely isn’t fun,” Hoseok supports, sending Namjoon a reassuring smile. “But hyung said he’s coming back tomorrow, and Sejin has been good to us so far. Let’s have some faith that it’ll turn out fine!”

You bite down hard on your tongue. Even if it turns out fine, there’s only so much time you’ll have before you’ll have to boot another man out of the running of the game. Hoseok, Jimin, Yoongi, Jungkook or Namjoon. Despite everyone feeling that your bond is stronger than just circumstance, you know it’s impossible not to take that decision personally, and you’re dreading going back to it.

Though, deep down - and it flares that guilt even stronger to think of it - part of you is growing restless, fidgety at having suddenly been deprived of the physical pleasures you’d grown used to receiving in such abundance. It’s only been two days, and you feel stupid for even noting your body’s yearning after such a short time, but it’s nonetheless there, and at least if you went back on schedule, you’d be able to indulge again.

Things felt so somber and serious when all you had were those swirling emotions, and no way to release them. But it feels wrong to even think about pursuing anything when the whole status of the group is on rocky footing.

“You’re thinking too hard.” The voice tugs you unceremoniously out of your haze with a gentle shove to accompany it. Jin, sitting beside you, has scooted closer to eye you with a warm albeit slightly concerned gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

“Everything,” you admit, and Namjoon makes a noise of agreement from the other couch. Hoseok has an arm slung over his shoulders, and you blink in surprise at the casual contact the two of them are sharing. Neither of them have seemed to be the touchy type since you’ve met them, but they appear perfectly comfortable. You make a mental note to keep an eye on them, but it quickly dissolves in your brain the moment Jin puts a hand on your knee and gently squeezes it.

“Hey,” he buffs in a low voice, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah? You boys up to join? It’s still warm out.”

“We’ll head up,” Hoseok says after a glance shared with Namjoon, “it’s been a long day.”

“That it has.” Jin squeezes your knee once more and gets up as the two others heave themselves off the couch and thud upstairs. Holding out a hand to you, the eldest helps you up and leads you out back, linking your arms tightly and walking side-by-side with you out the back door.

The stars are blocked from view by cloud, but the moon provides enough waxy light to see by, the grass glinting silver. Like two lovers from a Jane Austen book taking a turn around a room, the two of you begin a lap around the expansive backyard, following the path.

“This feels very cheesy,” you admit to Jin, glancing up at him with a bemused smile. If you’re honest with yourself, the distinct oddity of wandering around a lawn late at night for no apparent reason is enough to distract you from your worries.

Jin returns your smile broadly, and presses you a little closer to his side. “All the more fun, don’t you think? The cameras aren’t even on. We can actually enjoy the privacy for once.”

You sigh out filaments of tension with every breath, the cooler night air easing your lungs. “That’s true. I haven’t actually come out here often.”

“I noticed. Afraid of the sun?”

“Oh, please,” you defend, “if either of us is a vampire it’s clearly you.”

Taking a few, quiet steps, Jin hums calmly, then suddenly lunges for your throat. A startled yelp leaves you as his face buries in the crook of your neck, and your shoulders rise up to wiggle away from the cold tip of his nose. “St-ah-stop!”

He pulls back, satisfied at his own joke and how effectively it caught you by surprise, but the adrenaline from the sudden fright has you giggling hopelessly, using your free hand to press against your mouth.

“Oh my god, you’re so mean,” you whine, but there’s only playful pouting in your tone, no real malice.

Jin clicks his tongue, entirely unruffled as if he’d never launched himself at you. “What can I say? Daddy is getting old, I think I’d prefer being called Sire.”

You splutter on air, reaching over to whack him. “Be careful what you wish for. I know several kinky little shits in this house that would take you up on that.”

“Strange,” Jin muses, “that you seem to think you’re not one of them.” He sends a smirk down at you, but as you stare up at him too, the gaze softens. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t make those jokes when we can’t actually- Never mind.”

Without intending to, you come to a stop, stepping across from him so you can see him head-on. “The cameras aren’t on,” you point out. “The show is paused.”

Jin’s brows come together, his lids lowering. “Y/n…”

“We could. Not even the- the whole kinky thing, just…” You bite down on your tongue at the reluctance on Jin’s face. “If you wanted to.”

He exhales raggedly, stepping closer and placing his broad hands on the sides of your shoulders. “Of course I want to,” he says, enunciating each word with intentioned care, “but you voted me off, Y/n.”

A chill runs through you, though the air is unchanged. “But Jin, the- we aren’t- that doesn’t matter, the show isn’t even-”

“I understand that,” he allows, closing his eyes briefly with a slight shake of the head, “but I’m going to respect your decision, even if you don’t. I want to do this the right way.”

Your heart sinks, unable to be mad even as humiliation stings your cheeks red. “I don’t even know when the show will end, it could be longer because of this break.”

“And I’m a patient man,” Jin states. You can feel the finality in the air. His choice wasn’t going to change, and you no longer have the energy to try. Instead, you just nod silently, missing the atmosphere only five minutes ago when you hadn’t put yourself on the line and gotten rejected.

His hands on your shoulders feel hot, anchoring you, and acknowledging them only makes your eyes prick more, wishing you could feel his whole body against you again. Knowing that you - god, that you loved him - and that he felt strongly about you too, but that you’d voted him out just to make things easier… It didn’t feel easy now. It didn’t feel worth it now.

“I think it’s time for me to go to bed now,” you say hollowly. You can’t imagine sleep will come kindly, but you feel the desire to be alone and bury yourself deep under the covers until morning. Perhaps longer.

Before you can pull away, Jin leans in, and your heart stops.

With eyes fluttering closed instinctively, you feel lips press chastely, but meaningfully against your cheekbone, before a soft whisper wishes you goodnight.

When he stands up again, you open your eyes and blink harshly, willing the pooling tears not to fall before you’re out of his sight. Emotion is swelling and crashing inside you like a storm at sea, and all you can manage is to choke out, “that’s not fair,” before you’re rushing across the grass, uncaring if your socks get dirty or stained, and barreling up the stairs with tears rendering your vision useless.

#tgm #the gentlemen #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jin x reader #ot7 x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #vmin fanfic #yoonkook fanfic #yoonjin fanfic

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monodipita · 3 years

Text

dangerous (Yandere!Killua x Reader)

Word count: 2,161

Warnings: Yandere content warning, slight abuse warning, blood warning

The night descended upon you, the air reeked of blood and decay. You weren't even close to the door yet you were afraid to go anywhere near it, but you knew who was inside. He was there, waiting for you, even though you were scared of what was going to be inside the room, you were wise not to ignore his demands for your attention. Killua could be quite the monster sometimes, but never did you think that he would go this far. You were nauseous just thinking about it, and the noxious fumes in the air added on to nausea, but you were still holding yourself together through the pain.

What was on the other side of this door? Who would you see lying on the ground, surrounded by their blood, captured by the embrace of death?

Your hand slowly moved to the door handle. It turned effortlessly and smoothly to your chagrin. Watching the door creep open, it unveiled a new world before you. You had little time to react as your face was blasted with the acrid smell of death, causing you to double over and nearly vomit on the spot. It took everything within you to fight your reflexes, nearly becoming lightheaded from your efforts, but you were able to recover.

"Do you think I'm afraid of hurting you [Y/N]? Do you think that because I am so nice to you that you can walk free, that you can talk to whoever you want, whenever you want when I'm not looking? You took me for granted. I don't appreciate that." Killua. His voice sent chills down your spine. “No,“ you answer him in a quiet voice, “Killua, I wasn’t trying to do anything with them. I only spoke to them for up to a few minutes at a time. I didn't have anything to do with these people!“ It was a sobering thought.

”I just told you why I killed them [Y/N]. I'm not fond of repeating myself.“ Killua stood from his chair. You could see him in the dim light that was provided by the room now that he was closer to you. You could see the veins bulging in his hands, his nails were sharp as you had seen them be before in previous encounters. Blood splatter covered his body from head-to-toe. You find yourself slowly backing away from him, but you knew your lover well, there wasn't any fighting him, there wasn't any escaping him. "Killua," you called his name quietly, your mind surging and trying its best to come up with an excuse that would get you out of this hot mess. You didn't want to die, but you knew he was going to kill you. You didn't want to die because of something you'd thought was only a minor inconvenience. "Please, I..."

"What are you going to say," he was in front of you, his beady blue eyes stared down at your face. ""Don't kill me?" Of course, I wouldn't kill you, [Y/N]. I love you far too much to kill you, don't be ridiculous." He pulled you into an embrace and squeezed you in his arms tightly, his hands stroking down your back and reaching back up to your shoulders. You were hesitant to hug him back but slowly brought yourself to wrap your arms around him. . . feeling the two of you lock together in the embrace, your eyes closing as you brought yourself to lean into him with your head pressing on his shoulder. "Of course, I love you," he whispered.

The air was still and quiet, neither of you spoke to each other and instead held this awkward silence. You knew better than to move away from Killua, you knew better than to fight him when he was so much stronger than you, so you accepted your fate, resting against him like this. It was actually kind of nice after a while, it made you feel like he still loved you.

That was until you could feel his sharp nails burrowing themselves into your back.

"Ah!" You cried out. Your body began to squirm underneath his embrace that only got tighter the more you struggled against him. "Stop STOP! It hurts, Killua, PLEASE!!" You shrieked.

"This hurts, hmm? Am I hurting you [Y/N]? Does it hurt as much as you hurt me?"

Your screaming turned into wailing and sobbing, your body that had been consistently put to the test since you met Gon and Killua at the hunter exam became partially numbed to the excruciating feeling of his nails piercing and digging into your skin. Thankfully he didn't seem to be pushing his fingers any deeper into your body. "N-no, Killua, it doesn't," you sobbed, "I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"You're sorry?" Killua's hands ceased their assault on your body. He pulled his fingers out of your skin. The numb feeling that took over that area of your body ceased to exist at the moment, and the pain began to flood you from head-to-toe. Your own hands gripped at the shirt Killua wore to somehow relieve the agonizing pain you felt through putting pressure into your fingers. Your body began to shake, but you kept yourself up as best as you could. "yes," you breathed, "I'm so sorry that I hurt you Killua, I won't ever do it again!"

Silence fell.

Killua pulled himself away, his hands holding yours tightly as he looked down at you. "Good," he smirked, "I'll trust you, but just to make sure I'll handle it on my own." He said calmly. He gripped your hand crushingly tight. It was better than the pain you felt in your back, that was for damn sure though. You were dragged effortlessly out of the building that the two of you were in.

On the way out, he ripped off the note on the outside that lured you inside. He balled it up and tossed it aside. Your teeth clenched and grit themselves together while the two of you walked back to your apartment, the pain you were feeling was unbearable, but you knew better than to talk to Killua right now. The sounds made on the trek back would be the sounds of you whimpering and your footsteps colliding with the cement of the sidewalk. The two of you didn't pass by very many people on the way, so there was no one to stop and ask you what was wrong - perhaps that was for the best. You held your silence as the two of you stepped inside the apartment building, your eyes warily looking over to the elevator as he dragged you over to it.

You were scared, scared that he was going to do something horrible inside the apartment once the two of you were in it. As you entered the elevator your body nearly collapsed against his, your body sinking to the floor before Killua's. His hands went to your shoulders as he stared down at you, a shadow cast over his face to prevent you from studying any bright details, as well as rendering his expression unreadable.

"I think I like you in this position." He smirked.

You shook your head, "no, KIllua... please, my back... we need to go to the hospital..." you were tired of behaving like it wasn't an issue. The pain was still there even after ten minutes of putting up with it. "No we don't!" he rolled his eyes as he pulled you up. "I'll take care of you, don't worry about it. Only I should be the one to touch you anyway."

The elevator conveniently came to a stop for him so that he could lug you out of it and drag you to your apartment door. You could feel your body be dragged against his, your legs touching the floor, your injured back coming dangerously close to touching the floor, but your body was too weak to fight against his, you could only cry out at the feeling. "KIllua, please, it hurts!" You whimper, "let me get up!"

"I'll pass~!" the white-haired boy spoke casually as he grabbed the key from your apartment from his pocket. You took this moment to try and lift yourself, but you were only met with the feeling of pain, as his hand tangled with your hair to force you back down onto the ground.

The door opened. Killua dropped your hold on his body and stepped inside.

This... this was the chance, the only chance you would have to run if you were going to run. You were injured and on the brink of passing out, but an attempt of running and hiding sounded better than submitting to whatever would happen inside that room. Your body slowly brought itself to stand with the help of the columns of the doorway. Right as you were able to fully stand, KIllua glanced back at you for a moment. "Go lay on the bed," he ordered you, "I'm gonna go get the first-aid. 'kay?"

You said nothing as he disappeared around the corner. Your body instinctively turned to jet away from the scene as fast as your injured body could take you, finding yourself facing out into the hallway. What am I running for? You had no answer for yourself but anything was better right now then being at the behest of Killua, even if you still loved him you knew that there wasn't any turning back from this point on. ...at least not for you.

Your body tip-toed itself away from the doorway to your apartment and out into the hallway. You began to make your break for it, but you were stopped mid-way.

"Did you seriously think that this was going to work on me of all people?" He asked you, his hand wrenching your shoulder tightly within his grip. "After being made aware of everything that I'm capable of, me, Killua Zoldyck?" There were no words to express the genuine amount of surprise the white-haired boy felt. He was wordless as he pulled you back inside the apartment, this time closing the door behind him and securing you inside with him. You were powerless to fight against him.

"Now, let's go take care of those wounds of yours, shall we?"

He brought you further inside the apartment to your bedroom, where you were originally supposed to be in the first place.

There were chains on the bed. You could see them very well—they stuck out like a sore thumb because they were black against the gray sheets of your bed. "Ki-killua, what is this??" You ask him worriedly, but he pays you no mind as he pushes you onto the bed.

You aren't given time to react. He's already putting the ensemble together on your body. First your ankles, then your arms, and finally your neck are all bound by the same black metal. You wince in confusion, your eyes going up to him. "W-what is the meaning of this?! What are you doing to me?!"

"Seeing as I can't let you wander out without talking to people like only you know how to, I figured I'd take the necessary steps to ensure that you can't run away ever again." He spoke in such a cheerful voice. You were unnerved by it. "You can't do this to me... it's not right," You tried to reason with him, "I don't want to be stuck like this forever!"

"Oh, but I can do this to you, and you can be stuck like this forever! I have the power to facilitate it." He grinned. "Don't worry [Y/N], I won't let it be too lonely in here. I'll make sure to stay with you as much as I can! Like, I'll feed you, I'll bathe you, all that stuff. Like a pet. Only if you're good, though." You looked on in horror while he continued speaking. He seemed to forget what he needed to do at the moment. "Right, I almost forgot! I need to patch up that wound of yours. Hold on, I'm coming back!" So cheerful, so disturbing, you hated every second of it. You watched as he disappeared.

You took this time to look down at the predicament you were placed in. You were surrounded by familiar things, but you were in something unfamiliar: these chains, that you were supposed to be in forever. It was a horrifying thought, being bound to this one spot forever with someone as chaotic as Killua being the one to look over you... he would've been more than willing to have you killed on the spot, you were almost certain of that.

When Killua came back, he was holding a small first-aid kit in his hand, but more importantly, he was holding a large container of rubbing alcohol in his other hand—you already knew where this was going. You swallowed thickly as he came closer.

#killua hxh #killua x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #yandere #hunter x hunter #gender neutral insert #reader insert

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slothspaghettiwrites · 3 years

Note

imagine lee with an ex who ran off and got married two years ago, but comes back a widow with a toddler who has his eyes.

NONNIE! OH MY GOODNESS.

Summer Lovin'

It was just supposed to be a summer job, but then it turned into something so much more - coffee breaks, silly jokes, lunches, late nights at the station with your panties around your ankles. You only had one year left at college and then you'd have your degree. But fate was cruel, your summertime romance was brought to a screeching halt when your mother caught you throwing up every morning for a week straight. There was no hiding it from her and that's how you ended up shipped down south to your distant relations and how your shotgun wedding happened. You didn't wear white and he didn't know a thing about how to please a woman in bed. Tears fell from your eyes on your wedding night, but only for love lost.

Two years on all you've got to show for it was a folded-up flag and a baby with dark hair and crystal blue eyes. Looking at his bubbly, chubby face through the review mirror as he pointed at the fall leaves, you couldn't help the tears that welled up. You were exactly what your mother didn't want for you, a single mother. You'd sold your house and nearly all your belongings so you could move into a small rental home just outside of Meade. With 18 months of experience as a typist, you figured finding work wouldn't be too difficult. All you needed was the right position and nanny.

Rejection was hard. Employers heard one whisper of your son and moved your resume to the trash. No one in this backwards town wanted to hire a mother, let alone a single mother.

"Baby, no," you hushed your son as he again tried to wiggle out of the shopping cart.

You didn't even see the man standing, gaping a little open-mouthed at the end of the aisle until your carts collided.

"I'm so sorry sir, I-" your breath caught in your throat. You'd spent a good month avoiding him, but here he was right in the cereal aisle. Sheriff Lee Bodecker.

"Hey, Bunny," his face flushed. "I, I didn't know you moved back to town or that you um had a baby."

"Yeah," you forced out a wet laugh. "Um had to move back home when my... Husband died in Vietnam. No point in staying with his family."

"Don't they wanna be around his kid?"

The world just stopped around you, the bright lights and colorful boxes blur together as your gaze zeros in on Lee. He looked almost the same, maybe a little plumper around the edges but who were you to judge. You'd been sporting that baby weight for two years and had no plans on changing how you lived. Lee's eyes were still just as clear and gave away his emotions just the same.

"Lee isn't really their family, so we decided to come home. My mama's getting on in years anyway and I don't want my baby growing up without knowing her."

"Lee?"

At the stranger calling his name, your baby turned around to meet the voice. He waved his chubby fist, smiling all big and friendly and without a care in the world while the sheriff moved closer. He brushed his knuckle over the soft cheek and looked you in the eye.

"Yeah, named him after his daddy."

#sloth asks #nonnie #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x you #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #hoedecker club #hoedecker

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for language and blood + references to violence Warning: Lil bit of kisses with dubious consent (initial surprise, then “hmm this is nice, I guess”), as well as a tiny bit of blood. Oh, and, ya know, mild referenced cannibalism. Notes: Still no beta reader, we die like innocent chickens unfortunate enough to be in Ethan Winters’ way. Also, I’m hoping this isn’t too ramble-y, I kinda. Got excited. Maybe sorta stayed up late to write this instead of sleeping, so... PS sorry for the cliffhanger, I could not resist. Next chapter will include the reader earning their PHD in Bullshittery, while also moving us into the, like, actual central plot of Serenade (or at least the part that the romance revolves around). Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne

Chapter 2: Overture

By the time you made it back to the maidens' quarters, it was nearly half an hour after your "shift" officially ended. Daniela hadn't taken up that much of your time, but her words had instilled a vigorous sense of anxiety in you, which had only drawn out your remaining tasks. You also weren't terribly looking forward to being interrogated by your coworkers. What would you even say? "Oh yeah, I accidentally played a note on the forbidden piano but instead of killing me, Lady Daniela just flirted with me and let me go! Haha smiley face emoji!"

Yeah, that would definitely go over great with the others. Maybe you could get away with pretending you hadn't been the one to play? Even though, you know, your daily duties were posted on the same wall as everyone else's, and anyone could see that you were the only person working in the music room today. Damnit, you think, everyone is always a bit tense when someone "gets off easy". Not that it happened terribly often. It simply made people nervous, considering they never knew if the Ladies of the house had been denied the "stress relief" they so desired, and whether or not they would want to take it out on someone else.

Hoping things would sail a little smoother this time, you took a deep breath and pushed the door to your quarters open. As soon as you stepped in you felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn your way. There had been muffled talking as you approached, but now it was silent, a heavy curtain of discomfort hanging over the room. Well, fuck, you thought, struggling to think of how to react. In the end you settled with a slightly-too-enthusiastic wave and a shy smile.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” One of the maidens asks, almost instantly, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed with confusion. If you remembered correctly, her name was Cynthia, and she was one of the (currently) longest running survivors. The two of you hadn’t spoken before, which made her next move all the more confusing. Without much of a warning she moved in front of you, reaching out to grab your hands, before gently holding them in front of her chest. When she speaks, it’s with a hushed voice. “How are you not dead right now?”

“I… have absolutely no idea,” you replied, doing what you could to avoid her gaze, but ending up meeting eyes with the others in the room.

“When you didn’t get back with everyone else… we assumed the worst,” Daphne, the closest thing you had to a best friend, said. She was towards the front of the small crowd of maidens, all of whom were now gathering around you out of curiosity. “You’re probably just lucky that Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t home while you played, otherwise, well, I think we can all guess what would have happened.”

“Thank the Mother for that, literally,” Cynthia chimed, dropping your hands as she did. That caught your interest for sure. Despite being part of an eccentric “extended family”, it wasn’t that often that Lady Dimitrescu actually left the castle to visit the other Lords; or their leader, for that matter. Was something big coming? Or was it simply time for a regular check up? You didn’t have time to ponder that thought, as soon Cynthia was speaking again. “Now, please, regale us with your story, dear. It must certainly be interesting… seeing as you escaped unscathed.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, putting your hands up in a “slow down” motion. Sighing, you moved over to your bed, sitting on the edge, before starting to tell the others what happened. You left out a few details, such as the severity of Daniela’s flirting, as well as the way she touched you. By the time you reached the end of your story, the other maidens had settled in a semi circle around you. A few had started to get ready for the day shift while you spoke, but their movements were deliberately slow, and their gasps let you know they were definitely listening. It was, however, difficult to tell how anyone really felt about what you were saying. Were they looking worried because they were concerned for your safety, or for their own?

Hard to say. All you knew at the end of night was that no one was looking forward to the following night.

------------------------------------------------

Every shadow in the corner of your eyes makes your heart skip a beat. All day (night, technically) you’ve been overly paranoid, expecting Daniela or one of her sisters to pop out at any moment, their sickles raised, blood-stained lips pulled up into a grin, promises of violence dripping from their mouths. So far your anxiety had proven irrational. Experience, on the other hand, was reverse-reassuring you with memories of maidens you had hardly had time to get to know. Who were you to avoid such a fate? Could playing a little song really justify your existence to these people? These mutants?

Distracting thoughts like that swirled around your mind for hours, leaving you feeling faint and dizzy, as you desperately tried to focus on your work. Ironically, it was your tunnel vision on your worries that brought them to life.

“Humph, you should really pay more attention, sweet thing,” a voice whispers, right besides your ear. Immediately you jump, a little yelp escaping you, and whirl around to see who had crept up on you. Your wide open eyes soon settled on the youngest Dimitrescu daughter. A toothy grin lit up her face as she took you in, leaning in just close enough for you to feel her breath. “Missed me?” She asks, words melting into a fit of giggles. One moment she’s face to face with you, the next she’s evaporating into a swarm of insects, moving around the room with frightening speed before settling on a nearby table. Both her legs dangle off the edge, swinging a little in a childlike manner.

“Lady Daniela, I-” you stutter, hardly able to will yourself to speak. You can’t help but glance at the table with a feeling of anxiety, knowing that you had just finished cleaning it, and wonder if your work would be for naught. But it seems that Daniela doesn’t appreciate you focusing on something other than her. Again she buzzes into a cloud, this time coming closer to you, the insects circling you, occasionally tugging at your skin. Fight or flight tries to kick in, yet all you manage to do is freeze in place.

You don’t open your eyes until the sound of hundreds of wings beating dies down. Fresh drops of blood trickle down your brow, as well a few from smaller cuts on your arms. Panic still roots you in place, even as you stare up at Daniela with a frightened expression. At first all she does is laugh. Loudly, with no softness to it at all. This was exactly the sort of thing that you had been afraid of in the first place.

“Oh, you poor little thing… Did that hurt?” Daniela asks, trailing a hand up your arm, pausing just before her fingers touch blood. Then she leans in, once more putting her lips right next to your ear, slowly pulling off one of her gloves as she does. “Good. Maybe you’ll pay more attention to me now. You really should, being in love with me and all.” She says it so casually, and with such conviction, that you almost wonder if she knew something that you didn’t. Though you try to turn to look at you, you find her gloved hand holding your head in place. The other moves so slowly that you almost don’t notice it until her thumb is sliding across your forehead. Blood smears as she does this, but she doesn’t bother trying to be neat about it.

Instead she simply brings the finger back towards herself, her other hand turning your face as she does, so that you could make eye contact as she licks her thumb clean. As soon as the blood hits her tongue her eyelids flutter and a soft moan rises in her throat. Astoundedly the sound brought a strong blush to your cheeks. It was less about attraction per se, more about the inherently intimate nature of the moment. Daniela was so close, her hand resting on the back of your head, her eyes slowly returning their focus to you. When she sees you she can’t help but don a prideful grin.

“You taste even better than I expected, sweet thing- what a fitting nickname, mhmm?” Another giggle, another rush of blood to your cheeks. In the rush of the moment you found your fear fading out, slowly, gradually being replaced by a mix of confusion and… warmth? What is wrong with me, you think, mind racing with countless half-thoughts.

Suddenly, as quick as the strongest of impulses, you found yourself being pulled closer to Daniela, her bare hand moving to rest on your waist. For once her eyes left your own. Now they drifted lower, to your lips, giving you a single moment to realize her intentions before she acts on them. Your lips collide with hers before you can even think to protest. It’s a million times softer than you would have ever imagined- not that you had imagined. But now that you had felt this… damnit, you know you shouldn’t enjoy it, yet you found yourself kissing back nonetheless. It wasn’t like it meant anything, right? Not like you’d have a chance to kiss anyone else around the castle, either.

Within a couple moments you realize two things: One, Daniela was smiling into the kiss. Two, by Jove (by Miranda?) was she seemingly inexperienced. Based on how much flirting she had done, you had naturally assumed that she was in no way, shape, or form new to this. The kiss was a bit sloppy, although passionate, and Daniela seemed quick to mimic your movements. More than that, it seemed like she was unable to catch her breath (did she even need to breathe? Or were the movements more out of habit than anything else?). By the time she pulls away she needs to gasp, and you’re left absolutely reeling, unsure how to process any of this. On the other hand, Daniela was softly grinning, gently resting her forehead against your own.

“Delectable, darling,” she murmurs. There’s a softness to her voice that you simply cannot fathom is real, at least not entirely so. Then a pause, with her gently running her fingers through your hair, before she gives you one more little peck on the lips. When she pulls away, just far enough to really look at you, you see something in her eyes that fills you with dread: Hunger. “I think I know what you want, what you need. You want to be with me, forever, a part of me, don’t you? They always do, in the end…” Her eyes shift to your neck, and suddenly her grip on you is dangerously tight.

Instantly you shift into panic mode, trying to squirm out of her grasp to no avail. This seems to irritate Daniela, who digs her nails into your waist, making you gasp. Without hesitation she seizes the opportunity to push you against the nearest wall, the hand that had caressed you so gently now pinning you down. Your thoughts are racing, desperately searching for anything that might buy you some time to get away, or even dissuade her entirely. But seconds tick by with nothing coming to light, your hope quickly fading. Gulping, you squeeze your eyes shut, ready to accept your fate.

And then… it hits you. An idea, maybe, that might just be stupid enough to work. Here goes nothing…

“Wait! Don’t you want me to show you my love?” You ask, somehow managing to mask the pure terror you were feeling. Hell, you slipped in a bit of confidence, sounding far, far more sure of yourself than you really were. Apparently it was enough to give Daniela pause. Her teeth had been mere inches from your neck, but now she was watching you closely, head tilted at a slight angle. “I can hardly do that if you kill me so soon, love. Don’t you want to see everything I have to offer? To know me truly, fully, before we become as one?” Another pause, a little hum from Daniela, then a slow, spine-chilling smile.

“Go on, then… show me.”

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #yes every chapter will be named after a musical term #what can I say I gotta put those 8+ years of piano lessons to use #not like I've released two albums or anything #that was sarcasm #anyway please enjoy

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mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

past lives | 3

a/n: Ok this is like the pre-climax? is that a thing? no well I'm gonna make it a thing right now! time to meet more of the family!! enjoyyy <3

Fallon nudged your shoulder to get your attention. Previously your focus was on the champagne flute, and before that the odd waiter who served it to you with an old scar straight through his mouth.

“I brought you here to snatch and grab stuff, where’s the team spirit?” they ask.

You make a face, “You brought me here because you didn't wanna go alone. And I can’t blame you if I had to come here alone I would-”

“Definitely throw myself off the balcony. Running start.” a voice adds.

It was neither yours or Fallons. So the two of you turn around and find the culprit. And just like destiny or fate or something, you see the guy you handed off a letter from your dead parent a few days prior.

“I mean isn’t it kind of your party?” you ask.

Tim shrugs a bit and sips the drink in his hand. It’s a non verbal answer that gives something away. Maybe it’s in the

“If you think that, then think about me. I’m the plus one.” you say.

He chuckles, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Same”

“Again?” Fallon asks.

You nod your head, “I had to drop something off at the Wayne building not too long ago. To Mr.Drake actually.”

“Oh it’s just Tim.” he says and holds out his hand.

You quickly take it and shake as instructed. Then Fallon follows the action, along with an introduction. Tim smiles and it looks like a genuine one.

“Well when I said we were gonna smooze I didn’t know you pre-planned.” they say.

You nudge them as they snicker.

“I’d probably be the wrong Wayne to smooze. My hectic schedule allows for no free time.” he answers.

Fallon laughs at this. “Oh, well you’re kinda on the younger side too.”

You can see Tim’s check taint red. His eyes dart away from the both of you. You still couldn’t believe that a young man like him was in charge of Wayne enterprises- or enterprise, however that worked out.

It probably felt like the world was on his shoulders.

The phone in your cocktail bag buzzed. Even though you didn’t know who it was, you had a very high suspicion that it was the league. What they wanted you to do at tonight’s event was still under wraps. But you knew that whatever task it was, wasn’t going to lead to a happy ending.

It never does.

You open your bag and take out your phone, “I’ve gotta handle this. My Aunt.”

Both Fallon and Tim nod as you walk away from your table and out into the balcony. It was a bit chippy outside so it wasn’t really of use to anyone. The rich don’t like the cold you guessed. Makes sense, heated floors and sidewalks.

The cold air reaches your skin. You don’t shiver. Growing up in Gotham until you were eighteen you hadn't gotten used to it. It was no Antartica but then again that Icicle man did like to rein terror sometimes. It was like practice.

You open the text and sure enough,

tonight you act as transport.

when you get handed a package deliver it here:

45 Gotham Harbor

Great. You were acting as a convoy tonight. It shouldn’t bother you that much, but it does. If whatever they were planning was something real and dangerous and they were keeping you low on the food chain, that mean you were expendable to them.

It hurt.

It wasn’t like you ran away from them. They gave you an opportunity to leave after a couple of years being one of their fastest rising recruits.. At first it felt like a sick test. Like one final trust fall before they could actually believe your unwavering loyalty.

You sat with the decision for days. It was a whole week before you decided to get out of the league. You thought that as soon as you stepped food out of the place they would kill you. But you walked out the front door and kept walking.

Oddly enough they had even given you a ride to Gotham.

But you being a convoy tonight? This felt like a test. One you needed to pass. If not for your life, then to find out what they were really planning. The league never takes care of things so out in the open like this.

“Did you just get dumped or something?” another random voice.

You turn off your phone and turn your head to the left. In the dark corner of the balcony is a guy. You can only make him out because of his lit cigarette. If it weren’t for that, you probably wouldn’t have made him.

Have your senses and training begun to fade? Ra’s is probably somewhere vibrating off the walls.

Sure enough he comes out of the dark and you can see him fully. He’s not in the night standard uniform. Instead he's in a dress shirt underneath a brown jacket. He did try with the black slacks you see.

Was he security? No he looked a bit familiar.

You think you should probably say something before he thinks rudely of you.

“No, just an interesting text.”

He hums some sort of sound. And then he walks a bit closer. You notice its not close enough to reach out and touch him. He’s really careful. He must be some type of security.

“You were talking to Tim, you one of those Gala Groupies?” he asks.

The shock that falls upon your face can't be helped. It instantly turns into sourness at the implication that you were a groupie. First off, Galas are boring. Second you’d more likely be a groupie for a rockstar than a rich old man- let alone a younger guy like Tim.

You hiss and cross your arms against your chest, “That was bit presumptive wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult. Presumptive to think that I did.” he bites back.

You nod you head along with a grin.

“Didn’t know the security detail came with snobbery. How do I know you’re not a groupie for Tim?” you ask.

He looks like he wants to hurl. Then he beings to laugh. His laughter fills the balcony a bit and you just watch in interest. He calms himself and then places his hand over the railing to rest.

“I would not, it’d be weird.”

“Not your type?”

“My brother will never be my type.”

Ah.

You look at him for a second more and then it clicks. This was Jason Todd, the black sheep of the Wayne family, you are talking to. You thought he looked familiar you just couldn’t place him earlier. Even though the white streak through his hair should’ve gave it away.

“My apologies.” you say.

He fakes wiping a tear from his eye. “no worries, you gave me a laugh tonight. I should be thanking you.”

“I am not gonna be your groupie either.”

“Presumptive, but okay.”

“Have a good night.”

Bruce finds Tim in-between mingling and cuts in.

“Oh thank God, I thought for another second my head would burst.” Tim says.

Bruce smiles, “Saved you then.”

“Have you seen Dick anywhere? I wanted to get his eyes on a case of mine.”

“No night work at the Gala. Take a break.”

Bruce begins to look for Dick within the crowd of people. His eye bounce from person to person. Effectively he’s glanced over you without a second thought. Or so he thinks.

When he does finally find Dick, he calls for him. This makes his son stop in his tracks. He comes to a stop and you were right behind him as he did. You aren’t quick enough to stop yourself and so you go colliding into his back.

“So sorry about that.” he says.

You shake your head, “It’s fine. No drinks spilled or whatever they say.”

He throws out a laugh so easily. You smile quickly and make a B-line for Fallon. As you make your way to where they have taken new residence, you see their face change. More specifically their eyebrows go up in the way that says ‘oh?’

“Cut it out, he bumped into me.”

“Maybe you guys can do some more bumping. Later on, if you-”

“I know exactly what you mean and I’m not entertaining you.”

Dick makes it over to his father and his brother. When he does Tim claps his back with his hand. It makes Dick wonder where the time went.

“Nice to see you brother.” Tim says.

“You too. Bruce.”

Bruce just nods. A man of not many words for those closest to him. He sure did know how to entertain guests though. It was all a mask anyways. If anything he was doing them a service not using it with them.

“I almost ran into someone. Thankfully there was no drinks involved, I would’ve ruined a whole outfit.” Dick says, pointing back to you.

Tim follows his finger over to where you and Fallon are standing.

“Oh, that’s who delivered me that letter the other day. Speaking of which, there was another one addressed to you Bruce.” he says.

Bruce nods his head once, “I know I saw it the other night when you passed out on your desk. At some point we’re gonna have a conversation about your sleeping habits.”

Jason walks up to the three men.

“You’ll never correct it. He’s more of a bat than you.” he says.

Bruce is doing double the work. He’s listening to the conversation happening in front of him about Tim’s horrible sleeping schedule or lack thereof. While he looks over at you. The person Tim said delivered the letter.

His child.

#dc #batman #Dick Grayson x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Jason Todd x reader #batman x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #dc x reader #PAST LIVES #redhood x reader

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

The Only Exception

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Nishinoya was genuinely happy with his life. He’d gotten used to being by himself and had accepted the fact that that was how it was supposed to be. Until you came along and threw everything he thought made sense out the window.

A/N: I really like this fic. It’s one of my favorites Nishinoya ones so far just because it’s his pov and timeskip and the amount of love feels makes me happy. i got a lot of serotonin while writing it :D

Masterlist

Nishinoya had never been someone’s first choice.

He knew that sounded dramatic, but it was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, Tanaka could chug three-fourths gallon of milk before vomiting, and Nishinoya was never anyone’s preferred option--which never bothered him so keep the pity to yourself.

He learned to accept this when he never got scouted for the All-Japan Youth Camp and after the only person Nishinoya ever even kind of loved ended up loving his best friend. It taught him to keep his expectations low and to focus on things he could control, which was what led him to solo-traveling Japan and then the world. He realized things might be better on his own, and with the constant itch that he was missing out on something bigger traveling alone just made sense.

But then you came and ruined everything.

Hold on. That came off way more aggressive than Nishinoya wanted. He meant there was a perfect vision for how his life would go-pyramids in Egypt, Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, deep sea fishing in Italy-until he toppled over you in the streets of Italy. He’d been sprinting toward the docks when you stepped out of a marketplace and he collided into you, knocking you flat on your butt and sending your groceries all over the sidewalk. Nishinoya fumbled through his best apology in broken Italian while shoving produce into your paper bag, but froze in surprise when you snorted rather than began an enraged lecture.

He swore his heart actually stopped when your eyes met. You were clearly amused by his flustered behavior and when his heart started back up it was abnormally fast. Not once had he understood what Tanaka meant when he explained the first time he’d seen Kiyoko, but the first time Nishinoya saw you everything Tanaka said clicked. If Nishinoya had been fifteen he probably would’ve proposed to you on the spot.

But he wasn’t, so instead he shakily handed you your groceries with furiously red cheeks.

“Come ti chiami?” You asked with a raised brow.

Nishinoya blinked several times. He racked his brain for what he’d been taught on his last fishing trip, but it was mostly curses and inappropriate sayings he should probably avoid using. He was pretty sure Duolingo mentioned ‘chiamo’ as name though.

“Nishinoya?” He answered like a question and felt relief wash over him when you nodded.

“What are you doing this weekend, Nishinoya?”

He stared blankly before pointing at you with wide eyes, “I understood that.”

“Well you obviously don’t know Italian,” you rolled your eyes and he pouted at the incredibly accurate jab, “so, are you free?”

He looked around the empty street before pointing to himself. “Are you still talking to me?”

“Is there another Nishinoya around here?”

“I mean, there could be.” He looked up thoughtfully. “The odds would be crazy though.”

You laughed lightly which made a warmth creep up his neck. “I’m talking to you. I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“You’re attractive and you seem nice,” you cocked your head to the side. “Is that not a good reason?”

He stared at the ground intensely. “I guess… It is?” Then his original reason for being there struck him and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I have to go,” he started leaving before quickly coming back. “Wait, I, uh, yes. Yes to the date thing.”

You chuckled, pulling a cellphone from your pocket to let him hurriedly create his contact before continuing his sprint to the docks-with a teasing recommendation not to knock anyone else over. That literal run in was the moment his entire world view became out of whack.

It wasn’t that he thought he was immune to liking someone-high school Nishinoya fell for any breathing human that gave him attention-he just lost the ability to imagine someone liking him. Maybe he’d been by himself too long or maybe that was just another fact he’d grown used to. He didn’t know anymore.

He did know that when he showed up at the restaurant thirty minutes early-there’s only so much pacing someone can do before they go insane-he hadn’t expected to see you. Just sitting on a bench beside the main entrance, looking too perfect while bouncing a knee and nibbling on your thumb nail as if you were nervous to be there.

Except it was only him, so that wouldn’t make sense.

“Hey,” you said when you spotted him standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

“You’re here,” he raised a brow. You took it as the time, but he meant it in a general sense. He truly hadn’t expected you to show up.

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, twisting the material of your clothes. “Yeah, I was kind of nervous.”

He mulled that over for admittedly too long, but it just seemed like such a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t that you looked stupid, but that’s what made it so confusing.

“You’re also early.” You pointed out when the silence became awkwardly long.

“I was nervous.” He said like it should have been obvious.

“At least we’re starting on equal ground,” you said with a shaky breath.

Equal ground? He wasn’t sure his brain was cut out for this type of critical thinking. He’d even spent the past few days planning for every scenario-even you sneaking out the bathroom like in the movies-but he never pictured you being nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” he tapped against his leg while glancing through the window at the half-filled dining area, “we can probably go inside.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you gave him a quick finger gun before whipping around with shoulders to your ears.

Nishinoya blinked several times before looking back down the street. A part of him thought about running, saving you both from the shitty date to come filled with awful conversation starters he’d pulled from an online article for high schoolers. However his fate was sealed the moment you sent a gentle smile over your shoulder and his feet began following you through the door without his permission.

Ever since that day he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since you giggled behind your hand instead of wincing at the terrible jokes he regretted the moment they left his mouth; ever since you weren’t burdened by the need to translate for him the whole night; and ever since you were amused rather than annoyed at his nervous rambling and awkward icebreakers.

It was just too good to be true.

Like the first time you came over and teased him for the cheesy dialogue in his favorite action movies. How his chest ached when your head rested in his lap and you gazed at him with overwhelming amounts of affection. He’d never dreamed he’d have this-couldn’t have if he tried. Sharing his favorite things with someone while they traced designs against his palm and occasionally sealing them with featherlight kisses. The fire it sent up his arm was too much and not enough and he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this.

It was a little scary how much Nishinoya didn’t want to lose it.

And that thought started keeping him up at night. Nishinoya was never really scared of anything-it was kind of what he was known for everywhere he traveled. If anyone needed something done they asked the foreigner with a death wish. So, the idea that you had that effect on him was, again, terrifying.

But what was Nishinoya supposed to do when you press your forehead against his in the middle of the night? Running your fingers through his hair and paying special attention to the blonde strands he’d always been secretly self-conscious of, whispering low how they were one of your favorite things in the world. How could he regret anything when you rubbed your nose lazily against his and kissed him softer than he ever deserved? He didn’t give a shit how scared he was if it meant he could stay like this, with you, for as long as you’d let him.

Because his heart raced a million miles a second when you mindlessly held his hand under a table or leaned against him just to be close. Because for some reason he was the first person you called when you were excited or when you needed comfort. Because when he rambled too long about spearfishing or an old friend’s volleyball game your eyes lit with genuine interest rather than annoyance. And because he was in love with you.

Which he both wasn’t prepared for and had known was inevitable. Falling for you had been like getting hit by a semi-truck he’d seen coming for miles.

It probably happened sooner than socially acceptable, but that didn’t surprise him given his all or nothing nature. This outcome was decided the moment Nishinoya knew he’d be fine with you breaking his heart a hundred times if it meant he could keep waking up next to you cascaded by the rising sun because he was still too lazy to invest in curtains. Just you cuddling closer to him for warmth in your sleep would make every ounce of pain worth it.

Once Nishinoya’d acknowledged his feelings it was nearly impossible keeping them down. With every breathtaking smile, or brush of your hand against his, or bubble of laughter that rang throughout his apartment it nearly spilled from his lips like a breath. It took all self-restraint he had to hold it back. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know because you deserved this piece of him-every piece of him.

He just wasn’t sure you’d want it.

His resolve lasted nearly a month-a month longer than he thought he was capable-before the feeling was too intense for him to keep down. And it wasn’t anything drastic that made him break. No, it was something so absurdly casual that he was almost pissed at himself when the words flowed from his mouth.

It had been a completely average morning, nothing crazy, the weather was actually gross with rain pounding against the windows and the sky a depressing shade of grey. But then you stepped out of his bathroom while rubbing the sleep from your eyes, giving him a lopsided smile before slurring a soft request for breakfast. It was like time froze and he was in a stupid romcom except you were there so it was actually an oscar nominated masterpiece.

Your head lolled to the side, half-lidded eyes filling with concern at his silence. “We can cook together. I didn’t mean it like-”

“I love you.”

That seemed to wake you up. Your body straightened while your mouth hung open in stunned silence. Nishinoya had expected this kind of reaction, so he clenched his fists tight in preparation for the worst.

“Are you sure?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s a pretty serious word, Noya.”

He knew that. Nishinoya had spent too many nights losing sleep over that.

“You scare me,” he confessed, deciding if he was going to dig his grave he might as well make it deep. “I’ve never really been the one someone chooses. More like deal or settle with.” He grimaced when his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, “but I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone and that scares me. You make me feel wanted and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Because I do want you.” You whispered and his stare locked on yours so quickly, meeting your loving gaze while his heart started racing. “And everyone you know must be really stupid because I feel lucky I got to choose you. I get to love you.”

He stared at you wide-eyed while his chest swelled with so much emotion he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.

“Sorry, that sounded really lame.” You placed a hand against your forehead and Nishinoya shook his head vigorously.

“I think that was the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You stepped closer and cradled his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. If he wasn’t so manly and awesome he may have teared up, but he definitely didn’t. Which was why you obviously weren’t wiping any water off his cheeks before pulling his lips against yours.

Nishinoya set a languid pace that turned desperate when you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled you as close as he could, which was never enough, snaking an arm around your middle and sliding one to cradle the back of your head.

When it got heated enough that he decided he’d very much like to move it to his bedroom Nishinoya’s stomach growled and you snorted against his lips. Nishinoya pouted, whining when you pulled away with a playful smirk.

“Later,” you said, pinching his cheeks and waving his head around. “Food first. We’re both hungry.”

He did love food.

He disrespectfully watched you leave him in favor of searching the fridge for food that could be thrown together for breakfast. A dopey smile covered his lips because he loved you. He was lucky enough to get to love you. And for some ridiculous fucking reason you were dumb enough to love him.

He would do whatever he could to keep it this way. For now, that was helping you cook breakfast. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever it was you would be there, so it would be pretty god damn amazing.

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya x you #nishinoya yū #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu!!

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