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legendaryoikawa · 4 years

Text

haikyuu boys and your moments with them

note: female reader insert

warnings: tooth rooting fluff, slightly nsfw, mentions of alcohol, some grammar issues because I didn’t proofread this, sorry 😔

starring: bokuto, semi, matsukawa, tsukishima, sakusa, kageyama and goshiki

thank you for 1,7k!!!

bokuto kotaro: unplanned dates + things he do for you

“hey hey hey babe”

“why?”

“let’s go on a date, i miss u”

The little moments with bokuto is something that you will never forget. Those unplanned dates with just him in his sweats and unruly hair. Those date with him at the park with just him lying on your lap, admiring your face with a cheeky smile painting his lips. Or the way his hands playfully trace small circles on your lap playfully.

Those moments with him that’ll make you neglect your schoolworks in an instant because he pulled out a shenanigan on you (with the help of akaashi, so it’ll look convincing that bokuto is really in pain, but surprise bitch, it’s a prank) but truth is he just want to see your face because volleyball has consumed his time. And you’ll just smack him off for scaring you but he’d just kiss you in return. Kisses that are too strong with passion and desire. He gives more to the point you would be drowning with his passionate spirit.

You love it when he does this small thing where he tugs your stray away hair behind your ear. You always ask him why, but instead of answering your inquiry, he’ll just pull out a bouquet of handpicked flowers from the park and will hand to you.

“You ask why? Is it wrong to admire how absolutely stunning you are?”

sjDJHDBJSB DEAD

semi eita: when he invited you to a nearby gig

beautiful boy invited you and you thought you were just dreaming so he flicked you on your forehead 🥰💀

One thing that you should be taking with you especially when you’re going for a gig is a fucking jacket. Regardless of the event being indoors or outdoors, a fucking jacket is a must.

But you might be someone who lives under the rocks and decided to wear a full glam without taking a jacket to warm you off.

Yet, the night is already starting. Night sky is deep with velvety clouds and twinkling stars. Going back would be such a pain and Semi might be annoyed if you’d pull out a grand entrance because you’re so late. Heaving a sigh, you pulled over the venue where the gig is at. You saw him at the entrance with his signature grey hair styled perfectly and his hands stuffed into his jeans.

He gave you a quick look. “Hey.”

You let out a breath, “hey.”

You noticed that there were no people. No noise. Hell, there weren’t a gig to start with. “Semi?”

“I know. But this is the only thing i could pull of just so i could ask you on a date.”

sakusa kiyoomi: when you know you both share mutual feelings but there is something holding both of you back

you and sakusa both know you share some deep seated feeling towards each other yet neither both of you decided to talk about it.

you fell hard for him even more when you were dead shit drunk (yet, you are still aware of everything around you, however you have the guts to act carelessly even around sakusa) and you decided to tease him by sitting on his lap, when you barged into his dorm room after going hom from a sorrority party.

It really took him by surprise at how vulgar you are with your words. How straightforward you were around him. When in reality when you’re sober, you’d never dare to talk to him, let alone straddling on his lap. Or the way you look at him slowly beneath your lashes. No matter how hard sakusa tries to shut his thoughts, but he wishes to see more of this side of you.

He could smell the reek of alcohol on your breath yet he made no complains whatsoever because it’s you. It’s fucking you. And, he’ll never throw a fit even if it disturbs his personal confort zone, because it’s you that we are talking about here. And, you are in a state of vulnerability because of alcohol, now isn’t a time for him to be a brat about hygiene or whatever.

You whispered, “why are you such a stone, sakusa?”

He didn’t quite understand what you meant by that, but he chose to shut up and stare at your deep, tired eyes. Those eyes that captivated him. Those eyes of yours that he wishes to stare more at.

“I like you so much,” you slurred. “You and your bitchiness about people around you. Y-you..” you paused, shifting yourself comfortably on his lap while you gripped on his shoulders.

Sakusa could hear his own frantic heartbeat. Did you really mean it? But he knows, every shit that a drunk says, is nothing but the truth.

“I l-like you l, ya know that?” You grinned and tumbled but sakusa was fast enough to hold you on you waist. He burried his face onto the crook of you neck and whispered but loud enough for you to hear, “i like you too, but you’re disgusting right now.”

The next day was a beautiful disaster. With him and you in bed.

tsukishima kei: a study date with him at the library

having kei as your tutor could be really cold but what choice do you have?

Kei isn’t the type to sugarcoat things just because he wanted to be the type to give sympathy. But no. He will lash out if your essay is shit and he’ll even rub it onto your face that your choice of words aren’t passing his high standards. Not even a bit. That is how Kei is.

Yet, he knows when to stop with his venomous words. Especially when he knows you were having a bad day and so he decided to act more docile so he wouldn’t hurt more of your feelings.

Study dates with him isn’t too romantic because he prioritizes both of your academic success. But there will be time where he will let you snuggle close to him when the library’s air condition is making you cold. Or when he lets you doodle little dinosaurs on his forearms while he watches you under his stern, golden eyes.

“Why do you keep on playing with my hair? You should be studying your biology, dumbo.” He isn’t annoyed. In fact, he doesn’t want you to stop, he’s just too tsundere to admit.

But you know it well that he loves it so you play with his locks even more while leaning over to place a chaste peck on his cheeks.

Kei flipped his book and whispered. “Why do I love a fucking goner?”

kenma kozume: when he immediately hugged you after his stream

Kenma isn’t the type to be suave with words. But he expresses his affection through action because according to kuroo, that is much more cool.

He just finished a stream and gave away his honest review on how this palace dungeon game is. But is didn’t fazed him at all. In fact, he didn’t liked the graphics at all. A solid five for gamer!kenma

What made him scared is that it is already eleven in the evening yet you were nowhere to be found.

But his anxiousness subsided when he heard the familiar clanking of the front bell. And there you stood at the door, looking gloomy and kenma made sure to act up immediately.

It took you by surprise when he stood up from his seat and immediately wrapped you around his body. The familiar whiff of his cologne mixed with his warmth. This is more than you asked for.

kuroo tetsurou: when he makes fun of you because he likes you so much

King of provocation and chemistry nerd kuroo always love to mess up with you. And you can’t find a way to get to him back or?

“You know what?” Kuroo began.

You raised a brow, “what?”

“You’re small.”

“You’re just tall, Kuroo. Now,” you raised a pencil towards his direction, “leave me alone.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue. Now is the time for him to continue on further to pester you. He isn’t being a jerk though, but he just finds it cute especially when you get agitated with just him and his presence. The way your fist curling and he can’t help but to admire your annoyed face. You’re so damn cute but you just don’t even notice the notable fucking obvious.

Kuroo decided to play with your hair but you had other things in mind. To get back at him just for him to get a taste of his own medicine.

You exerted a lot of effort to pull his collar down just to match you eye level with his. You smiled, “is it just playing with my hair that you could pull off, kuroo?”

You’re donw with him concealing his feeling because he has no guts to come up to you. So you did him a favor. Something that’ll distract him for the rest of his day.

matsukawa issei: 3am dance with him

You were washing the dishes at night when you felt two strong arms encircling your waist.

“Hey.”

Matsukawa’s arms encircled your waist as you washed the dishes one Thursday night. The way he hummed the familiar tune of ‘close to you’ while swaing both of your bodies gracefully. You missed him, especially his familiar scent that smelled like home.

He shuffled his feet so he could have more grasp on the hem of your shirt. His thumb caressed the soft skin that showed from his hold.

You grabbed the sponge and lathered it with soap as Matsukawa clinged onto you. It was a peaceful night, with him on your side, the splashing of water and the sound of his lips kissing the crook of your neck.

You smiled as his kisses grow more playful. But Matsukawa wanted to see your face and so he twirled you so he could plant a kiss onto your lips.

You grinned. “Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here Mister Matsukawa.”

He gave you a cheeky smile back, “well, well, well, too, it was a pleasure seeing your beautiful face, Mrs. Matsukawa.”

You decided to play along with him as he swayed both of your bodies in a slow dance. “I doubt. You have plenty of companions at work, right?”

“Oh please. Among all that I’ve seen, i will always choose you.”

kageyama tobio: late night dates with him at the downtown convenience store

He would act like he just wanted milk but truth is, he wanted you more than the milk he’s addicted to.

“You’re such a dumbass, y/n.” Kageyama scolded when you tripped on your feet but good thing he was there to catch you. He resisted the urge to smile as you gave him a cheeky smile and brushed off the incident like it didn’t cut your self esteem. Humiliation? You don’t know her.

You immediately plopped onto the familiar stool of the convinience store after you grabbed ome of your favorite sponge cakes.

“Stop eating the poor cake like there is no tommorow, baka”

You made a face. “Call me a glutton, but these are the best among all sponge cake made.”

Kageyama raised a brow. Confused, he leaned in but you raised the empty container to his face. You suppresed a laugh, “Told you, I’m a glutton.”

He frowned. “I really don’t need to take a bite of that cake just to have a taste.”

“Wha—?”

He kissed you. And you were right. The sponge cakes were tasty.

goshiki tsutomo: walking home with him from the late academy

Nothing’s more enjoyable than having goshiki’s presence with you after going home from a hellish class from the academy.

“I am the future ace! You heard that, y/n?” Goshiki proudly yelled while both of you were walking home from the supplemental classes. You tried to match his energy. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you were just too drained to yell with him.

Goshiki had managed to read you even when you didn’t said it to his face. No words were needed because he knows you well like you were his very own diary. He pulled you by your cardigan to enclose you in his lean body.

He heard him whisper as he burried his nose on your hair. “You can always rely on me, idiot. If you’re tired, then tell me so i could somehow make you happy.”

—

Hello!! Sorry if this was tOO LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY HAHAHAHAHHA but i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! Also, thank you for 1,7K U GUYS ARE THE BEST! Love you all!! 🥺💖💖💖

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #bokuto x reader #goshiki x reader #tsukishima x reader #matsukawa x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #sakusa x reader #kageyama x reader #semi x reader #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Note

So I saw that your requests were open and was wondering if you could do some aftercare with Hawks? Like after a really intense scene and the reader is out of it for awhile so Hawks just patiently helps them come back into reality?

ugh anon, you got me on this one. i truly love a good aftercare fic, and i really love reading fics with bdsm elements!! i combined a bit into here <3 there may be some inaccuracies, but nonetheless, enjoy this little number!!

word count: ~2.4k

warnings: bdsm scene, a bit of degradation, praise kink, aftercare, fluff, fluff, avian keigo (think ‘best nest’-verse)

scene & stop:

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Keigo had set a brutal pace long ago, as he usually did. Twisting, pulling and pushing you faster than you could fathom or keep track of. You’d stopped trying to make sense of it all when Keigo had hauled you up by your feather-bound wrist, arching your back into a painful curve and stuffing you full of his cock to the point where it was almost difficult to breathe.

You loved every moment of it.

“Oh baby,” Each rhythmic slap of skin seared across your gooey mind. Keigo’s voice, sweet despite the force of his actions, washed over. “Look at you, always such a good cock sleeve for me when I ask, huh?”

You could only make yourself whine, any answer feeble and small in the back of your throat. Most of your conscious effort was going into bracing your thighs, keeping yourself upright and poised against Keigo’s grip and the feather nearly vibrating on your sore clit.

His wings beat the air with each thrust, filth slipping from his lips, long-since saturating your psyche. It was nasty, undeniably, all of the words dripping over you in time with Keigo’s harsh breath and bites over your shoulders.

“Come on, dove, use those pretty lips to tell me how good my cock feels,” Keigo growled against the shell of your ear. “I know they’re more useful when my cock is down your throat, but I guess I’ll settle.”

You swallowed, shuddering a particularly harsh thrust that hit your deepest insides, “I-It feels really good, sir, v-very good.”

“Oh, ‘sir’? How polite.” A laugh colored his tone, mocking and high. You whimpered, lost in the speed of sensations, almost drowning in it if not for Keigo’s constant touch and words. “You really are just a fucked-out, fuck toy, huh?”

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck with just enough pressure to make you go nicely hazier. You were quickly shoved into the bed, back still arched, hands still bound, but this time with your face smushed against the sheets, whimpers and mewls muffled by the silks and satin. All the aches and pretty cruelties went right to your cunt, spent and dripping.

Keigo’s pace turned harsher, faster even still. You drank all of it in, feeling your whines break into cries and sobs as the sheets below you soaked with tears and spittle.

“Awwww, is my needy birdie crying?” Keigo sneered above you, a sharp slap coming down on the flesh of your ass. It stung, burned through you like a divine iron. “That’s cute. Too bad.”

He had warned you he was in a particularly nasty mood-- not that you minded too much. The pain and aches mixed with the hot pleasure over your body, stripping you down to just raw nerves.

You both loved it.

Keigo had to be getting close, the feather circling and lapping at your clit getting more erratic and shaky with the pace of Keigo’s hips. You vaguely recognized it through the fog, a new stream of tears dripping down your cheeks. The bruising of Keigo’s cockhead against your cervix was almost too much, but you held out.

It all ended abruptly.

Keigo dragged your weeping face from the duvet, almost contorting your body with the amount of pressure and strength he was exerting. With a few pointed thrusts, you shuddered and screamed through your last orgasm, a slow rolling thing after so many other ecstasies preceded it. Keigo came moments later, the shuddering of your gooey cunt around his girth undoubtedly pushing him over the edge.

While he’d been keeping your cumming and cumming and cumming for what had to have been hours, he’d been edging himself, saving his load for when you were completely rung out.

Oh, and you were.

You felt his absence more than you felt him inside you. As he pulled out of you, cooling cum dripped along your inner thighs.

And moments later, you were boneless.

You slipped down against the sheets, feathers and hands removed. You were spinning, high, light and floating. It felt a bit too high, consider you couldn’t feel or hear Keigo.

A new wave of sputtering cries got muffled into the sheets.

“Hey, hey, dove, I’m right here,” Keigo’s voice was so soft compared to the grating cruelty from just moments before. Arm loop around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck from behind. “I’ve got you, let me hold you.”

You slowly turned, just enough to bury your face in his chest, and nestle into him the best you could. Keigo linked your sticky legs together, pressing a few kisses to your hairline.

“Gimme some taps, dove,” Keigo urged, nosing into your hair and pulling a thin sheet over the two of you.

Your fingers twitched against his clammy back.

One tap. Two tap. Three tap. Four taps.

Keigo hummed, “Got you, dove. Thank you for showing me. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise crashed over your melted mind like weighted, lavender-smelling blanket, something grounding and soft to safely hold onto.

Keigo tended to get particularly tender during aftercare, no matter the scene. It soothed both of your mental aches.

“You did so good, dove,” He purred against your ear, all warm and solid like you needed. You squeezed him, a silent ‘thank you, you too’.

Keigo blanketed you in sweet everythings, little kisses and the most gentle touches he could muster. You kept your face tucked into his chest, the aftershocks of it all making you shiver against him. It felt safest to keep your face hidden from view.

Though, with each passing moment, you felt yourself floating less and less.

Keigo, surprisingly, was patient, particularly in moments like these, with you, that required the mutual bearing-of-souls.

You slowly peered him up him, hardly pulling away much. Despite how clammy and sticky you felt, being near Keigo meant you were safe and okay.

“There’s my dove,” Keigo beamed down at you, giving you the sweetest, warmest type of smile. He peppered kisses across your face, kissing away the few stray tears that remained. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Especially when you’re all marked-up and sweet for me.”

You rolled your eyes, not ready for any sort of words yet, but you have just enough spunk to nose at his jaw, nipping near his stubble. He’s quick to rub his hands up and down your sides, trading your little teasing for a whole heap of kisses and squeezes.

“I love you, dove, god, you did so well,” Keigo crooned, nearly crushing you against him. “Can I help you out a bit, clean you up a little? We can take a bath after, use one of those bath bombs we got?”

You nodded, tucking into his neck again to speak, voice hoarse and dry, “Please.”

He squeezed you, giving a happy nod.

Keigo’s feathers fluttered off, a tap running in the nearby bathroom. There was a water bottle, chilled, pressed into your hand, already opened.

You tipped it back, drinking down whatever your dehydrated body would take. Keigo’s hand stayed over your own, keeping the bottle to your lips and then pulling it away, “Little sips, love. Don’t want to hurt your tummy.”

True, your guts were more than rearranged, your insides definitely feeling a bit out of wack. You were sure they’d settle, especially after some more water, time, and a nice bath. Keigo would always treat you to your favorite delivery takeout when you were done with scenes. The thought set you smiling, nuzzling into the side of his neck to show what you felt, even if you couldn’t say it quite yet.

The water was taken away, placed on a bedside table. Keigo kissed the tip of your nose, “Just give me some taps if you want more.”

You nodded, leaning back into the comfort of his embrace.

Keigo took a soft looking towel from a returning feather, repositioning you to lay as he wanted. It was a bit too exposed, but you kept a solid hold on his shoulders.

Gently, he wiped away the cum and slick that stickied your thighs. He cooed some praises as he idly talked through the scene as well, his own form of aftercare. You listened the best you could, humming and pressing harder against him to show you’d heard him.

He knew you well enough to know that that was your best way to show love in such a state.

After cleaning you, Keigo paused, tossing the dirty towel into a hamper, “Would you like to take that bath still?”

You nodded, sitting up, though Keigo was quick to assist your, wings fluttering and settling, tucked into his back. It was clear why he did as you winced, muscles across you body burning hot with new, bright aches.

“Aw, dove, I’ll carry you, ” Keigo cooed in the back of his throat. Quickly sliding and scooping you into his arms. “Don’t strain yourself.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, tucking you against his chest and carrying you to the bathroom.

Setting you down, you lingered around his neck. Lacking that grounding physical was always scary after a scene, especially one that was so long and intense.

Keigo, ever-observant, caught your hand to squeeze it, “Do you want a feather to hold onto while I set things up, love?”

You nodded, a feather quickly coming to rest on your bare lap. Your own nakedness, the awareness of it, surprised you.

You looked to Keigo with glassy eyes. He flashed you a sympathetic look, squeezing your shoulders, “Just gotta grab the bath stuff, then you’ll be getting all the cuddling in the world, angel.”

You trust him.

He was as fast as possible, darting into a bathroom drawer, dubbed the ‘aftercare drawer, for a few supplies. As promised, a few colorful, fragrant bath bombs, a bottle of luxury bubblebath (somehow, you had no idea, fused with Keigo’s calming avian pheromones), a bar of warm-smelling, skin-softening soap, along with a few different bottles of massage oil (and, of course, Keigo’s bottle of wing oil if he was in that particularly mushy mood).

Carefully, he brought an armful of supplies back, feathers carrying the rest to the thick rim of the massive soaker tub. It was opulent, pretty marble that might as well have been the size of hot tub. It was made specifically to accommodate Keigo’s wings, long before you were in the picture. Still, the two of you fit well in it, snug together in your precious moments.

You chose one of the bath bombs from the stack, one that you spit rainbows across the bathwater as you unceremoniously plunked it into the tub.

Keigo snorted from the bathtubs edge, checking the temperature with his hand, “Nice toss.”

“Thank you,” Your voice was quiet again, but not as meek. You squeezed Keigo’s feather in between your hands.

Keigo could, of course, do most of what he needed to with his feathers. But, with you, especially in these softer, slower moments, he wanted to do them on his own, with his own hands.

It was a sweet gesture, all for you.

Keigo dumped in a few healthy gulgs of a bubble bath, foam rising on the top of the water. You watched, mesmerized by the colors and textures.

So mesmerized, you hardly noticed Keigo leave the room and return, kneeling down in front of you and offering the water-bottle once more.

You stared at for a moment, slowly taking it from his hand, softly speaking once more, “Little sips.”

“Perfect, dove, perfect,” Keigo shined you the sweetest smile as you took a few little sips, the feather from your lap darting to turn off the bathtub’s faucet. His wings were settled against back, desperately need a bit of preening, but still happily twitching and vibrating with Keigo in his own relaxed state.

You set the bottle down, Keigo kneeling in front of you to scan you down, “I don’t see any places where I broke skin, but once we get in, tell me if anything stings, okay?’

You nodded complacently. Keigo, ever-dutiful, cupped your cheeks and gave you a quick smattering of kisses before helping you into the frothy bathwater.

The water was hot, maybe a little too hot, but you didn’t mind. The heat rolled against your aching muscles, soothing you.

Keigo slipped in the tub behind you, wings extended out and up to avoid the suds. It was the usual routine, Keigo immediately pulling you to his chest, toned thighs framing your own while his arms made their home around your mid section.

You leaned into him, all of you, mind, body and spirit. Cheek against the dew of his chest, you let your eyes go half-lidded, slowly but surely allowing the heat of Keigo’s touch and the comfort of the water around you bring you back to lucidity.

Sometime later, you weren’t sure how long, you finally spoke.

“Love you, Keigo, thank you,” Your voice was still scratchy, overused with tears. It was a bit endearing, apparently, based on the way Keigo chuckled and squeezed your waist.

“Anytime, dove,” Keigo hummed against your ear. He rocked you two slightly, little ripples hitting the sides of the tub. “Do you want a massage after this? I can imagine you’re a little bit sore, huh?”

“‘A little bit’?” You craned your neck to frown at him. “I dunno, Kei’, I think I can confidently say you’ve made good on your promise that I ‘won’t be walking straight for a month’?”

Of course, Keigo had his rougher moods that left you more than sexually wrecked, sore in new, deep places, but he had plenty of softer ones as well. He was adaptable and fickle, and you were happy to ride the waves of his preferences as he harmonized with your own. Sure, that meant that sometimes, you were wordless for an hour or so, needy and burning, but god, you fucking loved it.

Keigo squeezed you, burying his face into your neck, and whispering a few small words, “You okay?

You just had to reassure Keigo, as quietly insecure as he was.

“More than, it was really, really good,” You sighed against him, littering his stubbly jawline with kisses. “You just gotta carry me around a bit. A massage might be in order. I can preen your wings, if you’d like?”

The extended feathers shuddered in a wave as Keigo nodded, any of his own subtle shyness fading as he returned your affections.

You fell into each other, far differently from your recent hours of hot pleasure and pain, satisfied and safe in each others arms. Keigo cooed and hummed a simple melody as you let your pains begin to fade, lulled, safe, and sated.

#Anonymous #salem answers #salem writes #drabble #but its a lil longer #this turned into its own thing lol #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks #takami keigo #mha smut

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bobohu4eva · 3 years

Text

Sweet Tooth (Part 2)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, mutual pining

Summary: Life as the palace baker got a lot more interesting after catching the devastatingly cute prince sneaking around your kitchen.

WC: 4.3k

Tag List: @wooya1224 @dixnysustae @bbhile @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @leave-me-in-the-summertime

Masterlist

“Good morning!”

The egg hit the counter with more force than intended, enough to be smashed completely and leave your hand a sticky mess.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” You heard from behind you accompanied by a giggle.

You turned around, smiling and trying your best to play it cool. The devastatingly cute prince had not just seen you smash an egg on the counter. And he definitely didn't notice how you were hiding your egg covered hand behind your back. Hopefully. At least that’s what you told yourself for the sake of your sanity.

You’d been jumpy for a reason. You knew he would be there again today, and you still didn’t quite know what to do about it or how to act around the guy. Sure he was funny and cute and honestly quite pleasant to be around but he was still very much the prince.

“I’m okay! Good morning to you as well.” You bowed to him before quickly finding something to clean the raw egg off your hand and work table.

Luckily he didn’t comment on your little egg mishap any further. Instead he rounded the table until he was standing on the other side of it and he pulled up a stool and sat down the same way he had the day before, elbow on the table, with his chin resting on his hands looking at you expectantly.

“So? Fruit tart?”

“Yes, fruit tart. Shall we get started?” He quickly nodded. “Would you like me to only show you how I make it or do you want to do some of it too?”

“Oh, uh, I hadn’t really thought about that… Can I just jump in if there's something that looks easy?”

A smile spread across your lips. You’d almost forgotten in the short 24 hours you hadn’t seen him just how non-aristocratic the man acted, but what a relief it was.

“Yes, if that’s what you’d like. Let’s get started? The first thing we need to make is the tart dough.”

As you started to gather your ingredients you found it more and more difficult to focus. He wasn’t wearing pajamas anymore, he was wearing what the princes usually wear. It was very attractive. He looked, well, like a damn prince. And you were expected to just act normal? When he strolled into your bakery looking that good?? It felt very unfair. He was just wearing a thin white cotton shirt and black pants but you couldn’t help but ogle him when he wasn’t looking. His broad back, the swell of his chest, it was too much to handle. Combined with the messy head of hair and lazy smile, it had you weak in the knees.

You combined your flour, sugar, and butter and started to add your water with shaky hands, before beginning to knead it.

“Can I do that?” He asked as he got up and walked over to your side of the table.

You nodded and handed him the dough and watched as he started to clumsily smack it against the table. That was when you noticed his hands, and how pretty they were. They were slender but not bony, and you found your mind wandering off, wondering how they would feel holding yours. They were probably so soft. The mole on his thumb was so cute.

“Don’t do too much, or else the dough will get tough.” You said quickly as you snapped back to reality, reaching for the dough and he let go of it. You internally cursed yourself for getting carried away daydreaming about the man’s hands of all things.

He stayed standing next to you, watching you, as you started to roll the ball of dough out into a big enough circle to fill your tart pan. You picked it up and started to press it into the edges and the whole time you were incredibly aware of his eyes on you. You almost wished he would do something embarrassing again so you could stop being so nervous.

“You’re so quiet today.”

“People tend to like me better when I talk less.”

You frowned. “I liked talking with you yesterday.”

You could’ve sworn you saw the man blush, but you pushed the thought aside, not wanting to think about that while you had a task to complete. It would be all too embarrassing if you messed up a mere fruit tart just because there was a pretty boy distracting you.

And he couldn’t actually be blushing at that. Right?

“I expected you to be stuck up, but you aren’t at all. That was a big relief. And I think you’re kind of funny. And like I said yesterday, it can get lonely here so I’m happy to have some company.”

“You can still ask me to leave any time if I’m getting bothersome, I’ll understand.”

You looked up to meet eyes with him and gave him a small smile. You didn’t quite understand why he said such things but you very much felt the need to comfort the guy anyway.

“You aren’t bothersome. It’s nice to have someone to talk to here.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that a lot.”

He was looking down at the table now, and this time you knew he was blushing. His pink cheeks had pulled up into a small smile. Cute.

“Is that ready to bake?” He asked when he saw that you were done touching the dough.

You nodded, and before you could react he picked up the pan and walked it over to the oven before putting it inside and closing the door.

It wasn’t on purpose that you were being so quiet now. You were getting quite flustered and didn’t want to say anything embarrassing. He was the prince, you couldn’t exactly explain to him that you were having trouble focusing because of how attractive he was.

“So? What now?”

You were quickly brought back to reality by his words and realized you’d been staring at him the whole time. Like a weirdo. You could only pray that he wasn’t catching on to your odd behavior.

“The filling!” You said, a bit too loudly, as you shook yourself out of your thoughts.

You started grabbing ingredients again, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him. Once you had everything gathered, you combined the egg, sugar, and starch and handed the bowl to him.

“Do you want to mix it?”

He nodded with an adorably excited look on his face as he took the bowl from you and started to whisk the mixture together. In the meantime you began to heat up your fruit puree, and by the time it was warm enough you took the bowl from him and started to temper the egg mixture into the hot fruit. You put it back on the heat for a little while longer to make sure it got thick enough and by the time it was done it was time to take the crust out of the oven as well.

The whole time you carefully poured the filling into the crust you knew his eyes were on you but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge him, out of fear of what you might do to embarrass yourself if you did. It was too quiet for too long. You still hadn’t spoken when you started to gather various fruits to start chopping up to put on top of the tart.

“I can leave if you really don’t want me here, you don’t have to lie and tell me it’s okay just because I’m the prince, I can tell I’m bothering you.” He mumbled and you finally brought yourself to look him in the eyes.

He looked upset. Your heart ached. You realized just how cold your actions must’ve come across to him, even though you hadn’t meant it that way at all.

“No! I promise you aren’t bothering me, really, I just… I’m not used to having someone back here with me watching me, especially someone like you.”

Much to your disappointment this didn’t seem to cheer him up, his face remained just as sad as it had looked a second ago.

“Someone like me?”

“You know, royalty. I work for your family after all, so it’s a bit nerve wracking for you to watch everything I do.”

“Oh…” His face softened a bit, and it seemed to you that he genuinely hadn’t considered that yet. “I’m sorry, but you really don’t have to be nervous, I won’t mind even if you mess something up. I promise I’m nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. He was a nice person, you knew that much already, if anything he could stand to be a bit more sure of himself. You felt bad that you’d hurt his feelings so easily by making him think he was being a nuisance.

“You are really nice, I can tell that much, I guess I just don’t really know you yet.”

“Well then what would you like to know about me? Ask away, I’m an open book.”

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised, wondering what you could even ask someone like him.

“Well, what’s it like being the prince?”

He frowned, obviously disappointed with your question. “Not great. Next question.”

Not great?

“Well what’s something you do like about it?”

He tilted his head to the side and pushed out his bottom lip a bit as he thought of an answer. You wondered if he did this on purpose, if he knew how adorable he was and liked to see you get all riled up because of him, but he seemed too oblivious for that to be the case.

After a few seconds his lips formed a wide grin and his eyes met yours. “The food.” He said.

That time you knew he saw you blush, and you even had to cover your mouth as a surprised laugh rolled off your lips.

“I’m just being honest, I don’t care about power and titles and all that, and I don’t need to live in a castle to be happy. I’m a simple man. But the food is a really nice bonus.”

“The cooks are really talented, I can see why you like that so much.” You said, now focusing back on the fruit you were chopping up.

“You too though, and sweets are my favorite.” He said, picking up a piece of strawberry you had just chopped to put on the tart and popping it into his mouth instead.

Your eyes traveled from his hand, as it grabbed the piece of fruit, to his face as he brought it to his perfectly smooth, pink, lips. You watched his face as he ate the strawberry, not realizing that you were once again staring.

“Is there something on my face?” He asked, with the cutest look of confusion on his face.

Somehow, you felt yourself blush even harder at that. “No, sorry, I just spaced out for a second.” You lied.

“Why is your face so red?”

“Is it?” You tried your best to act casual, quickly changing the subject. “So what do princes do in their free time?”

He made that same face again, the little pout that showed you he was thinking of an answer.

“Well, I like to get out of the palace. Take my horse out into the woods or through town, anything to get out and feel some fresh air and not be bothered. Or go on a walk through the gardens. I’ve seen you there a few times, by the way, reading.”

“Oh…” You didn’t quite know how to respond. You must’ve been so caught up in your books that you’d never noticed when he was there.

“I sometimes wondered who you were, but I didn’t want to bother you since you always seemed so invested in what you were doing.”

You felt another twinge of embarrassment, thinking about the romance novels you would sometimes spend hours totally consumed in.

“Well, next time you should come say hello if you see me.”

His cheeks and ears started to look like they were turning pink again, although you couldn’t understand why. He had looked down at the table, and one hand was scratching the back of his neck. He had paused. He almost looked a bit nervous.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we be friends?”

His eyes finally looked up to meet yours and the pout on his face as he nervously waited for your response made you feel crazy. There was no way in hell you could look back at him when he looked like that and say no.

You put a small smile to your lips and nodded, and to your relief his face immediately lit up into a wide smile.

“Thank you, Creampuff.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“I have to come up with a stupid name for you too now that we’re friends you know.”

“Well, then I am greatly looking forward to what you can come up with.“ He said grinning, and taking another piece of fruit you’d just carefully sliced.

“If you eat all my fruit before it can go on top it’s not going to be much of a fruit tart!”

He was giggling hysterically now, making a show of it, grabbing several more pieces of fruit and holding them up in the air, out of your reach..

“That’s okay, the topping is the best part anyway.” He snickered as he brought another piece of your oh so painstakingly chopped fruit to his lips.

Was it a good idea to befriend the prince? Probably not, however you didn’t want to think too hard about that since it was too late now anyway.

You had a fruit tart to finish, so you dragged your mind back to the task at hand.

“Baekhyun, do you want to put the fruit on top? Or are you just going to eat all of it as is?” You teased, gesturing towards your still naked tart with the pile of chopped fruit next to it.

“Okay okay I guess I can put some on top too.”

You watched as he started arranging the variously shaped fruit pieces atop the tart, and you once again marveled at his hands.

“So do I get help, or do I have to figure this part out myself? You always make them look so pretty, I don’t think I have the same artistic touch you do.”

You smiled at the compliment, more than you probably should have. Something about this guy enjoying your work so much was just too good to be true.

You felt silly. So silly. Has it really been so long since you’d had an interaction with a cute boy that you simply couldn’t handle yourself? He had to notice by now. It had to be painfully obvious why you were so flustered, right?

At that point you were openly staring. Luckily for you, he was actually pretty focused on making the tart look nice, so he didn’t seem to notice your eyes on him. His fingers had a slight sheen to them from the juices from the fruit and it took everything in you to not grab his pretty hands and lick them clean yourself.

“So? Y/n?”

You hadn’t even answered his question yet and you were already off in a little daydream about him.

You were crazy. You took a deep breath, recomposing yourself for the nth time.

“I’d like to see what you come up with.” You said, trying to sound as playful as you possible with how hard your heart was beating.

He gave you a smirk that told you he had accepted your challenge. His focus went back to the table and he started carefully arranging and rearranging his work.

Then, he was finished. The last of the fruit had been placed atop the cream filled crust. It actually looked okay, you were even slightly impressed with his artistic vision.

“How did I do?” You heard his ask as he set down his finished creation and looked at you with a pleased grin. He took his bottom lip between his perfect teeth, looking at you with those familiar puppy eyes and you wanted to scream at how cute he looked right then.

“It looks really nice. Not how I would’ve done it, but pretty.”

“Well if I did it exactly how you do it I would just be copying you and you wanted to see what I could do so how could I possibly even think to do something so unoriginal?” He looked very pleased with your response.

“You wouldn’t be able to make it look like mine even if you did try to. You just don’t have that special touch.” You responded, surprising yourself with your teasing tone.

Baekhyun perked up at your words, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What? You said it yourself earlier.” He really had. But you knew he was ready to fight you about it now anyway.

“I just need more chances to prove myself, but I think I did pretty damn good just now for someone who hasn’t prepared his own food in his life ever.”

“You’re so spoiled.” You giggled, plucking a piece of fruit off the tart and placing it between your lips, keeping your eyes locked with his. You weren’t sure where this new surge of confidence was coming from, but you decided to just go with it.

“Hey! I can’t help who I was born as!”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t still spoiled.”

“You’re so mean to me.” He whined, obviously just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately it worked very well for him. His little pout when he pushed out his bottom lip and furrowed his brows ever so slightly, was almost too cute to handle.

“Yeah, but you’re still here with me for some reason. Now are you finally going to eat your tart?”

He’d once again gone all bashful on you, acting like you were somehow the one in charge here when his family basically owned you.

“Can you cut it?” The words rolled off his lips softly.

You nodded, grabbing the sharpest knife you had, and started cutting the tart into slices.

It immediately felt wrong. You realized you’d fucked up.

The filling was still too warm to cut. It wasn’t fully set. It would start oozing into a big puddle of fruit goo as soon as you’d touch it.

It was so obvious. Of course you shouldn’t have cut into it already. Of course it wasn’t ready yet. You knew that, but your mind had been elsewhere. It was a dumb, dumb mistake and you felt it start to chip away at the last bit of sanity you had left.

You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw as you made a second cut, but you knew you were only making matters worse. It was already ruined. You put your knife down and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight the tightness in your chest and the tears that were building in your eyes.

“Creampuff?”

The nickname just made it hurt more. The way he said it so softly was too cruel. You failed to suppress the sob that wracked through you and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks, which were now deeply tinted with your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.” You choked out. “I messed it up. It’s ruined.”

“Huh?” The look on his face as he watched you cry could only be described as a combination of worry and panic.

He didn’t get it. It still looked fine. Before you could stop him he picked up a piece and you watched as the beautiful and delicious little project you’d spent all morning working on with him fell apart. His carefully arranged fruit topping was destroyed as the filing slowly sagged into the missing gap and his slice turned into a messy glob.

“Where are the spoons?”

You looked at him like he was crazy.

You watched as he picked up the two forks on the table. “I don’t think a fork is going to work for this, can you give me a spoon please?”

You were a wreck. You were crying, sobbing even, and here he was asking you for a spoon so he could try at least one pathetic bite of your fruit tart turned pudding mess.

“Y/n?” It was barely a whisper this time. “Why are you crying? I said it’s okay even if you mess up. I’m not mad at you.”

Swallowing your tears, you reached into a nearby drawer, grabbed hastily at its contents, and shoved a spoon into his hand.

It was huge. The kind of spoon that was usually used for mixing large salads. You didn’t even understand why you had such a monstrosity in your little bakery.

Baekhyun stared at the ridiculous instrument you had just thrust into his unsuspecting palm as you let out a few more sniffles.

Then he let out a loud laugh. “This thing?!” He thought it was hilarious. “Are you trying to fatten me up? You know my mom always told me that my good looks were the only good thing I have going for me, don’t go ruining that now. I can’t afford to get chubby.”

You let out a whine and opened the drawer again, this time paying better attention to what you were grabbing. You pulled out two normal sized spoons.

He watched as you set them down on the table and frowned when he saw how upset you still looked, despite his joking around. You didn’t touch your spoon, still too upset to want to try a bite of your mistake. He didn’t seem to care though, immediately scooping up a spoonful and taking a large bite.

He let out a pleased hum as he finished his bite. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset, this is still pretty amazing if you ask me, thank you so much for letting me make it with you.”

He genuinely seemed to not mind. He kept happily eating it. But you didn’t feel any better. This was your job, your thing, and he’d seen you make such a stupid mistake, and on just the second day he’d met you. It was embarrassing more than anything else. What if he thinks you’re bad at your job?

“I’m sorry.” You let out again quietly and this time he didn’t tease you or make a dumb joke. He looked concerned. When you felt a tear roll down your cheek, he looked scared.

“Why are you still crying?” He put his spoon down. He was rounding the table to walk to the other side, to where you were standing. Once he was standing directly in front of you he froze. He’d lifted one arm slightly, as if he was reaching out for you, but it quickly dropped to his side again. You took a shaky step back but he moved with you.

“I promise I’m not here to judge you, I just wanted some time with someone who’s nice to me for once. And the tart is still amazing. And I know everything else you make is amazing too, because I’ve been eating it for years.”

You made the mistake of looking up into his big brown eyes. His cute slightly droopy looking eyes that sat perfectly atop his smooth, round cheeks. The look he gave you was too sweet to bear. You let out another sob.

He turned towards the table. He grabbed your spoon, hastily taking a scoop and shoving it into your mouth before you even had time to react.

“See? It’s good. Really good. Who cares if it melted or whatever. That’s like, the least important part. It’s food. It’s supposed to taste good. And it tastes super fucking good.”

You chewed slowly as he spoke, still standing far too close for comfort. He watched as you ate with tear stained cheeks. When you swallowed his hand moved. He was reaching for your face. You felt his thumb lightly brush the corner of your mouth, removing the small drop of cream that had ended up there. He brought his finger back up to his lips and he licked off the bit of cream, eyes never leaving yours.

“Delicious.” He whispered.

Panic was setting in now. You couldn’t find it in yourself to cry anymore. You felt like you needed to escape. You couldn’t trust yourself to not make a fool of yourself right now, even more than you already had. The poor guy would probably never wanna come bake with you again. The thought of not spending time with him again like this hurt more than you expected it to.

You stared again, too taken aback by his actions to get any words out. He was closer now. You weren’t quite sure when he’d gotten so close, close enough that you could smell the lingering scent of sweet fruit on his breath.

He was right there, and he was staring right back at you, close enough to touch. Your mind was slowing down and you swore you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, before he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I think I should go. The tart is amazing, really. Thank you again.”

He turned to leave, and the words left you before you had time to think about it. “Are you still going to come back?”

He turned back to look at you, a reassuring smile on his pretty face. “Of course, Creampuff.”

Next Chapter

#exo #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #exo fic #exo fluff #exo smut

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hyungieyoongi · 3 years

Text

History: “Run Away to You” Part 2

How could you have protected me?

When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Genre: Angst (Not gonna lie, this part is pretty angsty. Please don’t hate me, we have to set up the angst to get to the fluff later, okay??)

Warnings: Reader has a panic attack, mentions of anxiety, arguing, crying – there are a lot of emotions Reader and Yoongi have to process

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

Your hands shook as you tried to fit the key into the lock of your apartment door. You missed the keyhole twice, finally succeeding in twisting the lock open with a satisfying click on your third attempt. Swinging the door open with a sigh, you gestured for Yoongi to head in first. You hadn’t spoken a single word to each other since you left the corner store. The silence created a thick tension for the duration of your short, one-block walk.

He walked into your apartment without a glance in your direction, slipping his shoes off by the front door. As he stepped further into your apartment, you closed the door, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down.

Flashback

The first time Yoongi came to your apartment, you had been a nervous wreck. You anxiously kept glancing at the clock on the wall–he was supposed to be there at 8:00 p.m. It was currently 8:03 p.m., and you were already thinking he wasn’t going to show.

A costar on the K-drama you were cast in had introduced the two of you at an awards show you were invited to attend three months ago. Yoongi seemed nice, but quiet, shaking your hand politely and asking if you enjoyed your work. The conversation lasted maybe two minutes. Fleeting, meaningless.

Then you ran into him again two months later at an album launch party for another popular K-pop group. The conversation was longer this time, Yoongi slipping away from his bandmates to talk to you. The champagne you were drinking that night made you giggly, your cheeks pink from the alcohol. He asked for your number, a gummy smile appearing when you said “yes” a little too enthusiastically.

After texting casually, you progressed to phone calls, then video calls. This was the first time you were going to hang out together. Movies and takeout had never felt so intimidating. There was a knock at your door, and you sprang up to answer it. You took a deep breath, counted to five, and then opened the door, Yoongi standing there with a sheepish smile, donning a black hoodie.

“Hi, Y/N.”

End of Flashback

You spun around when you heard Yoongi cough, finally breaking the silence.

“Your apartment is different than I thought it would be,” Yoongi observed. He took off his hat and his mask, placing them on your coffee table in front of the couch. He shook out his hair, running his right hand through the dark locks. You swallowed hard, blaming the slight flush to your cheeks on nerves rather than how attractive Yoongi looked messing with his hair.

Your old apartment had been large and glamorous, outfitted with state-of-the-art appliances and expensive furniture. This one was a third of the size and infinitely cozier and more comfortable.

“Well, my old apartment was paid for by the production company. When I moved, I figured I’d get something a little more ‘me,’” you explained.

“Right. When you moved,” Yoongi emphasized, bitterness lacing his words. “You mean ran away, right?”

“Listen, Yoongi, I know you probably want an explanation–”

“I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyebrow quirking up slightly. You had seen that incredulous look on his face before when you two had gotten into arguments.

Flashback

“Come on, Yoongs, you have to be better about taking care of yourself. This pace is unsustainable, and you know it,” you said to him angrily. You were sat on the couch in the Genius Lab, the man in question glaring at you from the chair at his desk.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Y/N, you were filming until 3:00 a.m. yesterday because you wanted the shot to be perfect. Don’t start with me on this,” Yoongi countered.

“But you’re here until 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. every night, Yoongi. Just because I do it once or twice a month does not give you an excuse to overwork yourself.”

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear under his breath, turning back to his computer. You got up from the couch, standing behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders. Your fingers dug gently into the tense muscles of his back. Yoongi relaxed, slouching forward slightly at your touch. You brushed your nose against his neck, placing a gentle kiss there. You heard a tired sigh leave his lips, and you knew the argument was over.

End of Flashback

You figured you wouldn’t win this argument so easily.

Yoongi looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to start an impossible conversation.

“Yes, you’re right. You do deserve an explanation. And I did try to give you one in that letter, Yoongi.” He scoffed at the mention of the letter.

“Don’t even go there, Y/N. A letter telling me to let you go. Really? I wasn’t even worth an in-person goodbye? Let alone the fact that you could have just told me where you were going,” Yoongi started pacing, frustration evident in his voice.

You went to the kitchen, filling a glass with water before taking a long gulp. Your throat suddenly felt extremely dry. You knew he was going to be angry with you if he ever saw you again, but you weren’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions–anger, frustration, helplessness–that you were feeling in this moment.

You placed your hands on the counter to steady yourself, and Yoongi stopped pacing, waiting for you to say something.

“If I told you where I was going, I would never have been able to stop seeing you. And if I didn’t stop seeing you, then I couldn’t get a normal life back. There was nothing I could do but try to move on,” you said, exasperated.

Yoongi took two steps closer to the counter that separated the two of you. It felt like a chasm.

“We were together for six months, I lov–I cared about you. I could have protected you,” Yoongi said quietly, voice cracking.

You looked down, staring down at your knuckles gripping the counter so hard they were turning white. Your eyes started to burn with the effort to hold back tears.

“You, better than anyone, know what it’s like to feel like you’re suffocating. Constantly being watched and picked apart and prodded and asked for more. I was on the verge of breaking down. If I didn’t get out when I did, I would have lost myself. I didn’t have a choice. I had to leave. I didn’t…I didn’t want to leave you. But I had to.”

The tears were starting to fall, one by one, down your cheeks. You let them, still staring at your hands. As soon as the words started tumbling out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them.

“The entire time we were together, we were a secret. We were always at one of our apartments or your studio, sneaking in and out in the dark. So, how? How could you have protected me? When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?”

You wiped angrily at your tears, face burning at your vulnerability. Finally looking at Yoongi, you saw tears brimming his own eyes. He refused to look away.

“I ran because I didn’t know what else to do. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But you couldn’t protect me. I had to protect myself.”

Yoongi quickly blinked a few times, trying to rid himself of the tears threatening to spill.

“You never even answered your phone. I left you dozens of voicemails. I didn’t know if you were okay. You put me through hell. You could have at least just told me you hated me and that you wanted nothing to do with me,” Yoongi rebutted.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t hate you. If I had tried to say goodbye, to end things in-person, I never would have gone through with it. I would have stayed,” you admitted with a sob. “I would have stayed to be with you.”

“Would that have been so bad?” Yoongi asked, his voice rising slightly. “Would it have really been that bad to be with me?”

“It wasn’t about that! I felt like I was already sacrificing my sanity. What was I going to do? Hide away with you forever? I couldn’t even handle my own life, let alone if I became the public girlfriend of a BTS member.”

Yoongi’s lips fell into a flat line.

“That’s not fair. You can’t blame this on me and my career just because you couldn’t stand your own,” Yoongi’s voice was suddenly calm, but his eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “This was your choice. I would have made it work. I would have tried to figure it out with you and this new life you wanted. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond and defend yourself, but nothing came out. It felt like you had gotten punched in the stomach. You started to breathe heavily, panic quickly engulfing you.

You practically sprinted to the couch past a confused and startled Yoongi, sitting down on the couch and putting your head in your lap, counting backwards from ten and then starting over, again and again, trying to slow your heart rate.

You registered a body next to yours on the couch. A tentative hand reached out, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. He didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for your breathing to return to normal.

You lifted your head slowly, not knowing how long had passed. You didn’t dare look at Yoongi yet.

“When did you start having panic attacks?” he asked gently.

“Over a year ago,” your voice was scratchy from your heavy breathing. Yoongi tensed at the mention of the time spent apart, now seeing one of the repercussions of the stress that you had alluded to while you both were arguing about your mutual history. He didn’t move his hand from where it rested on your back. “I’m really…I really am sorry, Yoongi.”

“I know,” his voice held a level of understanding in it that it didn’t before. He paused, his hand lifting from your back. “I think I should go.”

You remember what it felt like a year ago to write the letter that would end things with Yoongi for good. It was like your heart was set aflame, burning in pain at your choice to walk away. A year later, Yoongi was the one holding the match.

He stood from the couch, grabbing his hat and his mask. You watched him put on his shoes from your spot on the couch, unmoving.

“I meant it, you know,” Yoongi said, his hand on the doorknob, ready to walk out of your life like you had his. “I would have tried.”

“I know,” you repeated his words, a sad, tight-lipped smile painting your lips. He walked out the door.

---

Once Yoongi left, you raced to your bedroom, pulling open the last drawer of your dresser and throwing the sweatshirts that lined the bottom onto your carpet. There it was, in the back right corner–the phone that you stashed away a year ago, the phone number still active just in case.

You grabbed it, trying the power button hastily, but it didn’t turn on.

“Ugh, come ON!” you yelled to your empty apartment in frustration. You plugged it into the charger on your nightstand, waiting for it to charge.

You picked off your nail polish, your nails bare by the time you tried to turn it on a second time. This time the screen flashed white. You ignored the pit in your stomach, sinking to the floor with the phone grasped tightly in your hand. You sat with your back to your bed, the phone cord stretching to reach you.

Ignoring the red icons alerting you of the dozens of missed calls and texts, you went straight to voicemail, scrolling rapidly with your thumb until you reached a voicemail from this date last year.

You pressed play.

Hey, babe, why aren’t you answering your texts? Marianne dropped some paper off for me today, apparently, but I haven’t had a chance to swing by the studio to grab it yet. Call me when you get this, okay?

Your fingers moved on their own to play the next one.

Y/N. You need to answer your phone. This letter I…I’m worried about you. Please, you can’t do this. Don’t leave me. Not like this.

Tears began to stain your cheeks as you listened to Yoongi’s voice go from fearful, to angry, to desperate, all within a span of a few hours, then days, then weeks. With each voicemail, you started to feel worse, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed to keep going.

Just tell me where you are. You don’t have to talk to me, but I need to know that you’re okay.

The last message from his number was from seven months ago.

I get it. You don’t want to see me. Probably ever again. So, I’ll do what you told me to do. I’ll let you go. But just know, Y/N, that I loved you. And I think I might always love you. I hope this new life you have makes you happy. I wish I could have made you happy enough to stay.

You let out a quiet sob as your fingers dialed one of the only numbers you had memorized.

“Hello? Y/N, is that you? Why are you using this number?” Marianne answered on the second ring, immediately alarmed.

“Marianne, can you come over? Something’s happened.”

---

“Y/N? Where are you?” Marianne called into your apartment. She had used her copy of your apartment key to get in the door when you didn’t answer her persistent knocks.

You sniffled in response.

Marianne looked into your bedroom, seeing you curled into yourself on the floor. You hadn’t moved since you listened to Yoongi’s voicemails.

She sat beside you and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. You couldn’t help but wish it was him here comforting you instead.

You had suppressed your love and feelings for him for so many months. Today, you had to confront them, confront the power Yoongi still had over you.

The pain and hurt splashed across Yoongi’s face was fresh on your mind as you cried into your friend’s arms.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

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#bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #run away to you fic #bts fanfiction #bts series #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga #suga x reader #sugar x y/n #bts au fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

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captainsimagines · 3 years

Text

To Topple A Giant || Chapter One

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 1 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Trope: ‘Enemies to Lovers’; mainly angst, mutual pining, fluff, and eventual smut

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Word Count: 4000+

A/N: Ooo, let’s hope this does numbers! I love myself some ‘enemies to lovers’ tropes. It’s been a while since I’ve written Steve fanfics. :)

Wakanda, 2018, 4:04 pm.

The flash of bright white light temporarily blinded you, sending you back to the ground and cupping your face in self-defense. But as quickly as the initial crack, it was over. Eerily silent and loud at the same time. The birds whistled their same tune, some higher-pitched than others. The wind seemed to blow louder, rustling the leaves from the trees and landing all around you and your teammates.

“Thor?”

You lifted your head at the sound of Steve’s voice and checked if the coast was clear. All that remained of the evil was a new blood-stained hammer - a hammer that Thor was watching intensely, as if the answer lay hidden there. It was the only remnant left and your mind was already wondering how to use it to bring that evil back to finish a fair fight.

“Where’d he go?”

The birds stopped singing.

“Steve?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of Bucky’s confused voice, watching as one of your best friends dropped his gun and looked up at Steve as his hands began to disappear. In a matter of seconds, Bucky - or what became of him - fell to the dirt below. No one spoke, and you watched as Steve tried to control his breathing as he took a knee to place his shaking hand over his best friend’s ashes. A life and mind brought out of the darkness to finally amend those knots he had twisted, now ceasing to exist. In the distance you could hear Okoye shout in turmoil and Rocket begin begging.

“What’s happening?” you finally choked out, turning just in time to see Wanda lift her head to the sky, defeated and out of will, and succumb to the same fate. “No!”

You ran and fell beside Vision’s now gray and decaying body, reaching over and palming through Wanda’s ashes. You rubbed them between your fingers, inspecting them, and brought your hand to your chest. The pit of your stomach churned as you sat there, immobile and numb.

“Sam!”

So many names were being called but soon everyone who remained fell silent. The trees were still guiding the wind, leaves falling into the ashes of your friends, a sign of a new and unwanted chapter. You felt Steve drop beside you, turning Vision around to see the damage to his body. You winced when you saw the gaping hole in his forehead.

“What is this? What’s happening?”

Natasha ran to where you were seated, hand over her stomach as if she was ready to vomit. And once she took one look at Vision, that’s exactly what she did.

You removed your hands from your chest to look at them, the ashes still there and practically mocking you into finally believing this as reality. “Did we just lose?”

Steve was moments away from a full-blown panic attack. He simply looked up at the trees, watching the way the sunlight still burst through with no disruption. “Oh god.”

You caught Steve as he tipped his upper body toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding onto something real. He had to believe you were real. Anyone. And you were the closest person to him. You shut your eyes and held him, running your hands through his hair, wincing when you realized Wanda’s ashes were now on him.

You held him tight, praying to any God you chose to believe in at that moment, that Steve wouldn’t disappear too.

Unknown Location, 2025, 1:07 pm.

The air was incredibly musty, as if each person who struggled for breath in this room at one point or another left a piece of their soul floating in search of last minute penance for their sins. And the man in front of you was no different, choking on the purple blood that dripped down his neck and onto his now unbuttoned, white dress shirt. His chest was rising and falling, his breathing becoming less labored with each blink of the eye. His hands were tied behind his back and to the chair he sat on, a flickering light in the corner of the dark, concrete room somehow mocking this man’s last remaining seconds of life.

“I’m not an evil person,” you started, kicking one of the legs of the chair to startle the poor man. But your guilt was minimal - it’s not like you wanted to do this - but knowing this man did exactly what everyone said he did, hands red and dripping with young blood, you selfishly took pleasure knowing this man would look at you when he died. “It’s just my job as third in command.”

You gave the man a small smile as you bent down to his level, head hanging in shame, slow breaths now pausing in between each intake. You looked to the other party in the room, handing them the gun in your holster, and walked out the room as the sound of two gunshots rang out.

Left twist. Sting. Breathe.

You washed away any smell from that godforsaken room, giving extra attention to the roots of your hair and under your fingertips.

Scrub. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

The crack of your neck frightened even you, and you stood under the burning shower for a few more minutes before deciding the sting was enough. You changed into the most comfortable sweats you owned, surprisingly calm for such a gruesome morning you had, and took your time with your skin care routine.

Circle. Wash. Dry.

Soft music played in the overhead speakers, the classical sounds vibrating from one wall to another and surrounding you with something tranquil - something still. There was nothing to expect from such a sound, only the next repeated chorus, no words or drops - just tranquility. You could barely hear yourself breathe but you were at peace - or mostly - and ready to sooth your growing headache behind the eyeballs with more than just music. You slipped on a pair of comfy, forest green socks and bent them at the ankle to achieve an even fluffier look. You applied your favorite perfume, lotioned up your hands, and donned your tacky friendship bracelet.

One for you. One for Bucky. One for Peter. And one for Wanda.

You hummed the whole way to the common room, waving at the morning staff as they fixed lightbulbs, covered holes in the walls, and swept the floors. One muffin and a cup of coffee later, you were resting with your head in Wanda’s lap as she filled your thoughts with your chosen sceneries.

“I can make you see anything you have already seen, so yes.”

“A miniature golf course, Peter’s high school graduation, a field of all kinds of flowers, and Natasha.”

Wanda stilled her floating hand, smile faltering for a moment before she nodded. “Okay… okay, I can do that.”

They were images well-drawn out, slow and steady to make the atmosphere similar to when you were actually there. They seemed to float across your vision, comfortable in their positions and radiating the same warmth you had felt the first time around. A moving picture. Wanda really had excellent control of this.

“I won!” Sam leapt into the air, pointing at a disgruntled Bucky, who stepped off to the side to not throw Sam over his own head. “I won!”

“How is it possible for you to get a hole-in-one each fucking turn?” Bucky groaned, moping in Wanda’s shoulder as she held him and struggled to keep herself standing from her own intense laughs.

“I think we got a cheater on the loose,” Steve grinned, pointing at the ring Sam was trying to discreetly tuck back into his pocket. A friendly gift from T’Challa, no doubt.

“Nuh-uh, give me the fucking proof, Wilson!” Bucky roared, wrapping his arm around Sam’s neck and tugging him forward. “I will not admit defeat if there was foul play involved!”

Sam escaped the hold, climbing onto the rock located to the side of the flag and a sign that read ‘do not climb on rocks’.

“It just helped me calculate all things geometry, Barnes. We’re good.”

Bucky looked as if he was going to leap on him again, but before he could even finish that thought, Sam slipped on the wet surface and plummeted into the rushing little river.

Laughter erupted and did not cease until you were escorted out of the fairgrounds by four security guards.

A flick of Wanda’s wrist and a new memory began forming, colors blending like an oil painting, dried and covered with a glossy varnish, ready to hang.

“Don’t trip on your way up, kid.”

Peter swatted Steve in the side as the super soldier left the room, leaving Peter alone in front of the full-length mirror. He adjusted his tie and tried to lay that pesky dangling strand of hair over the top of his head.

You got up from the couch and made your way over, wrapping your arms around Peter and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do great. We’re all so proud.”

“It’s just high school…”

You frowned and turned him to face you. “No, you should already be in your second year of college. This is seven years in the making. We are all so proud.”

Peter could feel the slight burn at the corner of his eyes but he swallowed it down, giving you a small smile and a hug.

“And can you trip? Don’t you stick to all surfaces?”

Peter scoffed and pushed you away, his tiny smile never faltering.

You could feel Wanda shift her legs underneath you, searching for the most comfortable position as she continued her work. You sighed, already feeling the therapeutic effects.

“They’re all so pretty!” you yelled cheerfully, running through the field with your arms extended to the sky. Bucky and Steve followed close behind, leaning down every so often to pluck the flower of their choosing and adding to the bouquet in their hand.

“Which did Tony prefer?” Steve asked, snapping you from your pollen-filled, ecstatic state.

“Aesthetic beauty, Rogers! Natasha was a sucker for anything pink and sunflowers.”

Bucky nodded, seeming to take that information into consideration as he plucked the yellow and pink flowers only. Steve chose the most healthy looking flowers, his hand struggling to hold them together as he reached the two dozen mark.

“I think we’re good. These are good.”

You smiled at both super soldiers and admired their bouquets, leaning over to sniff their masterpieces. “Awesome.”

Wanda sighed as she neared your last vision, debating on showing you your chosen moment instead of another one. This moment always hurt Wanda as she wasn’t there to witness it, but it was special to you. There were so many others to choose from, but you insisted this was the one you always wanted to see. And Wanda was always hesitant at first - but when she lifted her hand slowly and dropped the memory back into the front of your brain, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Are we ready?”

Everyone was practically bouncing on their heels, both excited and terrified. Time travel was new to humanity and you were to be one of the first to experience such a thrill. You were going to get everyone back.

You squeezed Natasha’s hand once more before you walked back over to Thor and Rocket. You all nodded to each other, saying ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck’ with your childlike expressions.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha grinned, her cheeks reddening with a friendly blush as she looked over at Steve. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, a braid you had helped her make, and she was carrying an extra pair of socks in case of a long hike.

Then a blast of color surrounded your body and the smell of peaches as you landed on Asgard filled your overstimulated senses.

You opened your eyes and smiled up at Wanda. You didn’t want to see old memories with your friend, but the most recent. It was like you were grasping onto that last memory of her, not wanting to change anything about her last smile, her last laugh, her last shred of existence. It was oddly calming, and so you hoped Wanda would understand.

You thanked her again and proceeded to the kitchen. It was bigger than the one before, the soft forest green color of the walls a nice contrast from the blue ones before. You laughed to yourself and your conscience as you silently thanked the explosion that obliterated the horrid blue walls, quickly backtracking at your dumb thoughts. Still, you chose to joke about everything that happened before to avoid falling deeper into yourself. The kettle started howling, smoke circling around the tip. You poured your tea, dropped two cubes of sugar in, and added a little milk.

It was quite bizarre how quickly you could bounce back from the morning you had. A very bloody, order-filled morning. When one order was given, you had to come up with a plan on how to not disregard the other. You had to listen to Fury and your father, gaining a few feet on each side without toppling the other. Still, it took a physical toll on you. But with Wanda’s help in easing your mind and the very sweet tea you nursed, your emotional baggage was pretty minimal. It sometimes scared you how easy it all was.

Your morning carried on quietly as you sat on the concrete curb, happily sipping your tea in your sweatpants. You could hear Sam and Scott arguing about something a few feet away from you and Bucky taking his afternoon jog around the track. Quite distracted, the sudden ‘thwip’ and superhero landing of a certain teenager scared you enough to spill a little of your tea.

“Goddamn, dude!” you whined, looking up at Peter as he tried to control his laughter.

“I’m sorry, I thought you saw me!”

“Excuse me for being distracted by the hot super soldier just over there,” you joked, pointing over at Bucky.

Peter rolled his eyes and sat next to you, immediately reaching over to take the tea from you and take a sip himself. You let him, as you had no other choice, rolling your eyes anyway.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had classes today?”

Peter handed back your cup, “Nah, I’ve only got classes every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Ugh, that sounds great. I remember I scheduled my classes for every day of the week just to have more units,” you sighed, taking another sip of tea.

“Stupid.”

You pushed Peter’s shoulder playfully, both your laughter catching the attention of Sam and Scott. But as quickly as you had distracted them, they ignored you and went back to bickering.

“I’m just here to see my friends, sue me!”

“Nope, you’re always welcome,” you smiled, holding out your wrist and bumping your bracelet with his. “How was your week otherwise?”

“Eh, nothing major. Just trying to navigate the world now that they know who's behind the mask.”

You gave Peter a look of sympathy, still mad at the sudden manipulation of the kid after such traumatic events. You had promised him you would protect him by any means possible, as did the rest of the team, but he seemed to be navigating the situation just fine. Staying away from reporters, scheduling his classes during the most isolated gaps of the day, and signing dozens of forms that promised to protect him, give him royalties, etc. After you had brought everyone back, it seemed the least the new management/orders could provide for you all.

“We all have our days,” you muttered, handing your tea back to Peter. You two sat there for a while longer, enjoying the slight breeze and taste of sugar.

An agent rounded the corner and spotted you, jogging up and handing you a yellow folder that was sealed in plastic. “For you, from Fury, from whoever before that.”

“Um, thank you?” you said as the agent walked away. You inspected the folder, turning it over in your hands and playing with the thin plastic.

You lifted it up to Peter’s face, “Here, smell it and tell me if there’s poison.”

Peter scoffed, “I can’t do that!”

“Don’t you lie to me.”

Peter muttered to himself as he took the folder from you, sniffing it awkwardly. “Smells like paper, dude.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You ripped the plastic off and unhooked the folder, dropping the single item onto your lap. Peter just sipped your tea and watched you open it.

It was another envelope, but this one was white with custom-printed indents that swirled across the front and a big, red blob of wax smushed- with your initials- sealing it. You ripped it open and pulled the invitation from inside. You must have read it a thousand times, eyes rapidly scanning the small page with secret meanings.

“You got invited to a wedding?” Peter asked, taking it from you and reading it himself.

“Yeah, but this is so much more than that,” you said, snatching it back and standing up from the curb. You quickly went back into the compound, searching for the one person who needed to read it also.

You seemed to find everyone before you found the super soldier who wasn’t out for a jog, a line of somewhat concerned superheroes following behind you from room to room. Eager minds and yet, inflexible rib cages full of anxiety and worry, all ready (and quite not) to tackle the new evils of this new world. And whether they followed you blindly or with functioning minds, they were prepared.

With the rest of the team behind you, you burst through the second floor with the invitation held over your head. Steve stopped mid-bite, milk dripping from his bottom lip as he stared at everyone in confusion. “Um…”

“It’s time-” you started, pulling the stool from next to him and sitting down.

“Time for what?” Steve interrupted, his mouth still full of cereal.

“Time for this,” you motioned to the envelope you were handing him. “-to finally end.”

Steve read the invitation word for word, the wrinkles in his forehead becoming deeper as his mind worked. You couldn’t quite discern the feeling in the pit of your stomach, twisting and spinning into a tight coil, seeming to spread to the others as it grew in pressure within you.

“All three?”

“All three,” you confirmed.

Peter pushed through Bruce and Rhodey, “What’s happening? What’s gonna end?”

You looked over at Steve, his bowl of cereal now forgotten and soggy.

His eyes were distant and rather cold, hands extended on his knees as if he was drying the accumulating sweat, shoulders building tension.

“Steve, we can finally end this. We have to tell everyone. It won’t be enough if it’s just you and me.”

He wanted to explode, in both anger and anguish, to stumble over his intact persona and leave it behind - someone he hasn’t known for a long time. It ate away at him each day since Fury notified him of your selfish choice, burrowing into his now tarnished soul in the most sadistic way. But the prospect of finishing this chapter - a chapter that was unexpectedly halted when half the world disappeared - was considerably euphoric. A chance to move on.

“Okay.”

Rhodey already had knowledge of your background, recruitment, and family but Steve’s initial involvement - the start of it - was still a mystery. You sat everyone down in the living room, making room for the others who arrived later, and clapped your hands together. “Story time!”

Steve groaned, face already pressed against a throw pillow. “Just tell them.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“You know whose spawn I’m from,” you began, snickers from your amused friends encouraging you. “To better transport their product, they sent me over to the states to attend college like the good little girl they think I am.”

Sam cracked open a beer and lifted his legs up onto the couch, sitting back with a massive smile on his face as he got comfortable for your story. He handed another beer to Scott.

“Wait, product?” Scott asked, taking a sip from his drink.

You smirked at him and tapped your nose twice, amused by his ‘O’ reaction. “Anyway, by then I already knew that I wanted out of the game. I didn’t like that life, I didn’t like the violence, I didn’t like my family.”

Steve knew that was an understatement, a cruel and restrained statement from your part, and he wanted to tell everyone just how justified you were in your words, how real you were being, and how much help you would certainly need for this. But like always, he remained silent.

“But Fury got to me before I could leave. So, we made a deal. I would train as a field agent and he would promote me every other year to lessen suspicion on this whole ordeal. The deal being I would play both teams.”

By now, your whole team was intrigued.

“I would do what I could for my father and still have my family’s trust, while feeding the information to SHIELD and our lovely star-spangled man over here,” you pointed over at Steve. He gave you a tiny but forced smile.

“But after the collapse of SHIELD, my father only became more violent, more hard-headed, more suspicious. He- uh-” you stuttered, flashbacks suddenly filling your head. Wanda watched your eyes dart rapidly, sensing the rush of blood to your legs and tips of your fingers.

“He was power hungry,” Wanda said, immediately feeling your heart rate lower. Although you never actually said it, she could tell you were grateful for her intrusion.

“Yeah, exactly,” you cleared your throat. “But Steve’s involvement all started when Fury asked me who would be the best front - the most reliable front.”

“So, with only Fury and the bad guys knowing - Y/N named me as her partner in crime,” Steve explained, head hanging low as if it was such a disgrace to do what you openly did. You knew his troubles with coming to terms with such an offensive role were multiplying daily, but you were now this close to stopping every bad force involved.

“So, Captain America is the ultimate drug smuggler,” Scott spoke, somehow trying to comprehend the information all at once. You and Steve both nodded in confirmation and avoided the wide and questioning eyes looking back at you.

“Yeah, he’s essentially the top boss.”

“Y/N-,” Steve interjected, but you beat him to it.

“And here we are! Him and I both invited to the wedding.”

Wanda stretched out her words, “The wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding - where three of the most famous and powerful drug lords south of the border will be attending and ready for our taking - including my father.”

Steve stood from his seat, posture straightening as he spoke to the group. “The invitation reads like a threat. No cameras, no plus-ones besides those listed specifically on the card, no speaking to reporters before or after. The trust Y/N has gained would unknowingly make us the contraband of the party.”

After going through more specifics about the whole situation, Bucky finally raised the question eating away at his mind this whole time. “Whose wedding is it, anyway?”

You grinned that stupid little grin Steve always prepared himself for. It was the grin you would display whenever you were going to make a serious matter a joke, or brush something serious off your shoulder as if it didn’t bother you. The sarcastic grin he always wanted to wipe off your face as you defied orders.

“My lovely little sister’s.”

Rhodey stepped forward to take the invitation for personal inspection, “When is it?”

“A week from tomorrow,” you beamed. “Which means I got to get shopping for a wonderful little, red number!”

“Please, be more excited about this,” Steve groaned, sarcasm dripping off each syllable.

You flicked your right hand up and in position to flash your charming little middle finger at him, a river of fluffed ego and delight flowing to your cheeks as he huffed and left the room in a stumbled march.

“So…” Scott’s voice ripped through the awkward silence. “We’ve been secret drug smugglers this whole time?”

Please let me know what you think! I listened “The Archer” by Taylor Swift and I was like... yes, I see this, lmao. Tell me if you would like to be tagged in later updates! xxMoni

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 3 years

Note

Hey there! thanks for the AWTWB asks you’ve been answering—they’ve helped me process some parts of the book and think things through.

that being said I’ve got one of my own questions for you.

one of the things I really loved about Carry On was Simon and Penny’s friendship. One of the things I appreciated about WS was the friendship between Baz and Penny.

but we didn‘t see much of either of those in AWTWB and that kind of bummed me out. What are your thoughts on the lack of those interactions?

hello anon, thanks for the ask! This might be a long one, so bear with me!

Simon and Penny's friendship is one of many wonderful parts of these books. Like you, it's one of the things I've loved to read. I was also so gratified to see that Baz and Penny grew to have such a deep and caring friendship in WS.

It may seem like we don't see those friendships "on screen" in the same way in AWTWB but I do think there are reasons for that, reasons that make a great deal of sense building on the previous books.

Simon and Penny's friendship is introduced in CO and we see it as rock solid through that book. I don't think there was any doubt as to the mutuality and depth of that relationship. It continues, albeit affected by Simon's personal trauma, in WS. In WS we also see the introduction of Baz and Penny's friendship--forged in their mutual care and love for Simon but being a distinct and separate entity as well, a love and caring for each other that goes alongside the relationship they have through Simon.

I don't think AWTWB diminishes those friendships. But circumstances have altered–based on Simon's decision early in the book to withdraw himself from the World of Mages, from the revelations about themselves the trip to America brought forth, with how they choose to move forward based on those circumstances.

I think CO and WS did a good job establishing the foundation and strength of Simon's friendship with Penny and the Baz and Penny one as well. I don't think there is any doubt in AWTWB that they all care very deeply for each other.

But Simon has drawn a line. A boundary. He believes he needs to be distinct and separate from the World of Mages to move forward, to get unstuck. He makes that very clear to Penny in his conversation with her, a conversation that is off-screen for very good reasons I think. One reason being it having a stronger emotional punch when Simon tells Baz (and us) in the break-up chapter--it would have been diluted if we had already heard his reasoning. Instead we get to hear Penny explain her understanding of it to Baz before Simon gives us the much more emotionally devastating version he gives Baz.

We get to see Penny making some very crucial realisations about the co-dependant relationship she and Simon had developed, about her own decisions and reactions to what had been going on in Simon's life. And her role as his friend and confidant. She is seeing things through a different lens–since the Mage's death, since Simon's spiral, since the trip to America. Mitali is rather harsh in her observations but Penny did thrive on the excitement and intrigue of the missions, her role as dread companion, the rush of research, intuition, and creative spell casting that she would contribute. But we saw even in CO that Penny had reached a point of wanting to spirit Simon away, to keep him safe, to pull him away from the World of Mages herself. A part of her that intuitively knew his life as a boy-soldier was unhealthy and hurtful to him in the long run. There is certainly a part of Penny that likely blames herself for not seeing through the Mage earlier, for not in some way protecting Simon or helping him avoid what ultimately happened. Not that she necessarily could have, but she would be thinking about it.

We know Baz feels that way as well. We hear Dr. Wellbelove voice a regret we know those closest to Simon would be feeling. Penny loves Simon. She does respect him. But she has put herself in a “taking care of him” role that takes away some of his agency and leads to a challenging dynamic. She and Baz both, in WS, but Penny has a longer history of that. After America she has come to a realisation that perhaps she has enabled or encouraged some of the situations they have found themselves in, that have been detrimental to Simon in the long run. That her mantra of Simon needing her hasn’t necessarily been healthy for their relationship. He sets a boundary with her and she chooses to respect it, not bulldoze right over it, as she may have in the past. This is a huge moment of character growth for her. She isn't relinquishing her relationship with Simon. She's giving him the freedom to do what he feel is right for him in the moment. She loves and trusts him enough to give him space when she understands he needs it. She doesn't like it, it hurts like hell, but she knows this agency and control and decision making on his own terms is vital for him. And when he calls her back, to help solve some new magickal conundrum, she doesn't let herself get drawn in. She keeps her promise to him, even if he's the one crossing the boundary.

It also allows her to be her own hero, if that makes sense. To be the hero of her own story, to approach something on her own terms. She bemoans the fact that she doesn't have Simon and Baz to listen to her think through things when she's with Shepard but the reality is she doesn't need them to do that--she can do this herself. It's empowering and a shift in her own experience. It also allows her to open herself up to someone new, let someone else in to her tiny circle.

I also think it's important in this story to see that just because someone asks for space, or needs some distance or agency, it doesn't necessarily mean you're losing them forever or that they are permanently rejecting you. Or that you’ve done something irrevocable. People need to grow and process and change and sometimes they need the space and freedom to do so. I think that's a very meaningful point. They last a little over a week apart but it's a week that provides them both with insight and growth. And they find themselves again, stronger than before, when they are back together.

And Simon talks it out with Penny. Baz tells him he should and he does. And it's ok that conversation is offscreen. We know the love they have for each other. We know Penny hates emotional conversations (her whole issue with saying goodbye from Carry On). It's not a scene we need to see--it's ok that it's private. It's how they'd want it.

We don't see as much of Baz and Penny's friendship, which you also mention, but I think again that's ok. It doesn't mean it ceases to exist--it simply continues on in the background as Simon and Baz's relationship work takes the forefront. Yes, Baz and Penny have a disagreement about Simon. But their friendship remains. They still communicate. They are still there for each other in the pivotal later scenes surrounding Smith. That hasn't changed. They have each others backs. They always will. I don't think Penny truly begrudges the fact that Simon and Baz have had this time together--I think she is very aware of how much they care for each other and that they needed to sort themselves to move forward also.

I hope this answered your question. The tl;dr is basically their friendships endure, even when not explicitly on the page. We don’t necessarily need to see them to know they’re there—the groundwork has been laid. We know their history and the depth of those friendships and that this time apart allowed for growth and progress and healthy boundaries and understanding. All good things. And in the end, they're all in this together, for each other and in support of each other.

#cscb answers #follower asks #asks #Simon and Penny #Penny and Baz #relationships #character growth #sorry this is so long #I hope this answered your question #simon snow #Penelope bunce #baz pitch #friendship #cscb rambles #awtwbspoiler #awtwbspoilers #awtwb spoilers

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 13 | I gave him a choice, he wanted to wear it

A/N: So this is the last chapter of the main story for Tom and Vivian. But not the last I am sure we will see of them. Thank you for all the wonderful support for these two!

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

This Chapter: With the air cleared, Tom and Vivian continues to move forward in their relationship.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open! Let me know if you want to be added. Thank you for reading!

1 Year Later

“Does this get any easier?” Vivian leaned to whisper to Sophie as they made their way to their seats in the audience.

“No. The press junket is the worst.” Sophie squeezed her arm. “But this one is much more bearable with you here.”

“That goes double for me.” Vivian smiled.

“Tom, is he…” Sophie raised a knowing eyebrow.

“I gave him a choice, he wanted to wear it.” Vivian shrugged her shoulders. “Ben, still being a brat?”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Yes. We can discuss that later. I need punishment ideas.”

Vivian smirked. Sophie and Ben had been exploring their own relationship dynamics over the last several months. Both of them knew Tom and Ben were trading notes and so they did likewise. “I’ll think about and text you some thoughts. Something Tom wouldn’t have warned him about.” They both giggled.

The past year had been hectic. The kitchen remodel took twice as long as Vivian hoped, forcing the two of them to eat out more than both wanted to. While the speculation regarding Tom and her relationship status died down significantly after Luke made a statement denying any secret marriage ceremonies, but it never really went away. She grew used to the stares and mutters and closed up her circle of friends and family in response after Ashley spilled that Tom and her met on an online dating site, effectively ending their friendship. Vivian found solace in her new friendship with Sophie, who understood better than anyone her unusual life circumstances. And life with Tom was as exciting as ever, especially with introducing new toys in the bedroom and elsewhere.

The two of them settled into their seats in the front row and waited for the show to start. Vivian beamed as both Tom and Benedict were introduced onto the stage to promote the newest Marvel film. Tom’s hair was longer, and he grew the beard back. He smiled at Vivian as he caught her eye in the audience. She recognized that smirk; he was up to something. And she was certain that something did not include the cage he was sporting under his navy double breasted suit. No one could tell unless they were looking for it. Tom had gotten good at hiding it.

“Now, Tom,” the interviewer leaned in after he asked several questions about the film to both Tom and Benedict. “your love life has been quite the subject of the papers this past year.”

Tom’s cheeks reddened, and Vivian’s fists clenched. “So it would seem. I try to not pay too much attention, Graham.”

“Well, I can imagine with such a stunning woman taking up all your attention.” Graham flashed the picture from the day Tom suggested she move in together. “Vivian, right?”

Tom nodded. “Yup.”

“Is it true the two of you met on a dating site?”

Tom blushed at the question. An old one at this point. They both rehearsed an answer for such an occasion.

“I don’t comment on the specifics of my relationship, Graham.”

“But I do!” Ben interjected. Tom frowned at him. Vivian’s eyes cut to Sophie, whose face was frozen in panic. “And I can say their relationship…” Ben glanced over at the two of you and winked. “… is built on mutual respect and trust.”

Tom sighed in relief and leaned back on the couch.

“Hardly newsworthy, Ben.” Graham groused.

Tom perked up and leaned in towards the host. “Well she is here in the audience, should we ask her for any juicy details?”

Graham pumped up the audience, who cheered as Vivian sunk deeper into her chair. Sophie scowled next to her.

“Darling, can I tell them anything about us?” Tom smiled as he looked over at her.

“No.” she called out.

Tom’s eyes sparkled again. “Not even our big announcement?”

Vivian’s brow furrowed in confusion as the audience oohed and cheered. She had no idea what announcement Tom was talking about. Certainly nothing had been cleared with Luke. Or her.

“I think she might need a little convincing, Graham. May I?” Tom gestured towards Vivian.

Graham nodded. “Why not? It’s not like you are here to talk about a movie or anything.”

Tom chuckled as he stood and moved towards Vivian. He kneeled in front of you. It was only then she noticed his hands shaking. He fiddled with his signet ring.

“Tom…” she started.

“Darling, this past year has been an adventure. A journey I have gladly taken with you. You have enriched my life in a way I could never imagine. I know that you are it. You are the one. You are mine and I am yours.”

Vivian’s brain swirled, only snapping back to reality when Tom fished a small box out of his jacket pocket and Sophie grabbed her arm. Tom popped open the box to reveal a brilliant cushion cut diamond set in platinum.

“Will you marry me?” Tom’s voice cracked.

Vivian sat there silently as a hundred eyes stared at her. But the only ones that mattered were right in front of her. Impossibly blue. And brimming with tears. Pleading, begging and full of love.

“Yes.” Vivian’s voice warbled. She cleared her throat, her own eyes now watering. “Yes, yes!” She repeated.

Tom’s face broke out into the widest, most perfect boyish smile ever as he slipped the ring on Vivian’s finger. She grabbed his face and kissed him, pulling him onto her lap. The audience erupted into wild applause.

“You saw it here first, Tom Hiddleston is now engaged.” Graham announced

“You are going to pay for this later.” Vivian muttered against Tom’s lips. No one else could hear her.

“I was planning on it.” Tom smirked, kissing her again.

“I was talking about Luke.”

Tom chuckled, kissing her cheek. “I already ran it past him, darling. I have to get back up there.”

“We are talking after.” She pushed him away playfully.

Tom winked at her and headed back onto the stage. Vivian showed off the ring to Sophie. She smiled.

“I know. He asked my opinion about it a month ago.” she confessed. “But he picked it out all by himself.”

Vivian admired the ring. “Am I the last to know about this ring?”

Sophie giggled. “No, it is probably your mother.”

“You’re right. She is going to flip.”

They didn’t get to say much else as the show was coming back from commercial break.

The rest of the interview went better than perfect. Tom beamed on stage, constantly catching Vivian’s eye. More than once, Ben had to nudge Tom’s knee to bring him back to the interview. Vivian giggled from her seat. Sophie and she slipped backstage to meet Tom and Ben back in the green room. Ben came in first, catching Vivian in a hug.

“Congratulations! Despite my first misgivings, I can’t think of a more perfect match for this ridiculous man.” Ben commented as he kissed Vivian’s cheek.

“Um… thanks… Ben.” She responded.

“How come I never get a greeting like that?” Sophie groused, smiling the whole time.

“Sorry, darling.” Ben rushed to dip Sophie and kiss her.

“And who is the one that gagged when I did the same thing?” Tom commented, sidling next to Vivian, his arm wrapping around her waist. Her hand instantly fell to the small of his back.

“That was before I knew the truth.” Ben commented, righting Sophie, guiding her to the small sofa in the room.

“You mean I could have had this romantic guy the whole time?” Sophie playfully swatted Ben’s thigh, which he dodged. “You are paying for that.”

“Add it to my list of transgressions.” Ben leaned to kiss Sophie again.

“Which reminds me,” Vivian piped up. “I will send you ideas first thing in the morning.”

Ben and Tom groaned. Tom called over to his friend. “Stock up on ice and a soothing cream.” He turned to Vivian and kissed her lips softly. “Do you like the ring?”

“I love it. You did so good.” She ruffled his hair. Tom’s cheeks turned a dark pink.

“Thank you, darling.” He squirmed in place.

“Would you like a reward tonight?” Vivian’s hand slid down to cup Tom’s ass.

Tom moved close to whisper in her ear. “What did you have in mind, darling?”

She whispered right back, sending shocks through Tom’s body. “How about you get to pick which toy I use to peg you with tonight?”

Tom’s eyes grew wide as he stared at Vivian, the blush deepening to cover his entire face and neck.

“I… I…” he muttered, his cock straining in his cage.

“I mean it is not every day you get engaged, and you have been the best boy, sunshine.” Vivian cupped his face and kissed his lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Vivian.” Tom wrapped his arms around her.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston smut #follow my lead

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blessedboo · 4 years

Text

F&MU | Angel Reyes.

Angel Reyes x Reader

GIF Credit: To the original creator - (I think @angels-reyes)

Summary: A situationship w/ Angel based on the lyrics of F&MU by Kehlani.

Requested: No.

Warnings: Swearing/Language. TOXIC. Mutual pining. Angsty. Smut (18+ NSFW Content) - on the rougher side, hate-fucking, light choking etc.

Word Count: 1.7K - Got a lil’ carried away, hehe.

A/N: I want to emphasize that I do not condone nor romanticize this relationship! It was a perspective I wanted to explore, to try something new and get out of my comfort zone a little. This was a BITCH to write, I don’t deal with angst well + it’s my first songfic. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy reading it!

We both know it's never really goodbye I swear it's like we do this all the time, yeah That shit be turnin' me on, I cannot lie, lie

“Say the words, and I’ll fucking leave,” Angel spat, his face inches away from yours.

Accompanying his dominating presence, ragged breaths furiously beat down on you. Maybe it was the way his dark eyes bore into yours with such intensity, maybe it was the gruffness of his post-sex voice; whatever it was, it turned you on.

“Get the fuck out, Angel.”

In other words: stay. But, he didn’t have to know that.

Angel’s eyes widened whilst his nostrils flared. You knew he wouldn’t like that answer, yet you gave it to him anyway. When Angel didn’t get what he wanted, it made it all the more fun when he did. With you, he took what he needed whenever he needed it, and you willingly gave yourself up for reciprocal pleasure. He wasn’t going to leave, he never could, and neither could you.

A couple of hours? A few days? Sure.

But, you always wound up in each other’s arms soon enough. Someone had to fuck the misery out of you, and it was always Angel.

In reality, the sex could only suffice for so long - it just made the emotional toll that much worse. The more you used each other, the greater the storm grew.

As his jaw tightened, a darkness loomed over him. It was a shadow of pent-up frustration, weariness … and lust. He hated himself for giving into you, chasing you. Angel’s entire being was wholly infatuated. No, addicted.

The damage was bad, but it hurt so good.

Angel grunted as he spun you around and shoved you against the wall. His hard chest pushed closely against you from behind. Shaky breaths escaped your lips before you bit down on your bottom one.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

Angel buried his face into your neck, his lips sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. His thick, ringed fingers slowly skimmed from the back of your bare thighs to the curve of your ass. The hem of your shirt rode up under his salacious touch, and stopped just above the lacy, red thong — his favorite.

Two fingers slithered through the slit of your clothed center, pushing upwards ever so slightly. As you gasped, you felt him smirk at the feel of your arousal before hooking onto the fabric and pulling them down the length of your legs.

“If you want this back,” Angel’s lips grazed your ear, his hushed, low tone sending shivers along your spine.

“Come get it, baby.”

Angel stuffed your panties into the inside of his kutte. The sound of his boots walking away resonated within the cold room, leaving you to your own devices.

And can't nobody else do that for me Know I make it hard to ignore me Got the attitude, then put it on me Put it on me, yeah

The situationship you had with Angel was one that no former partner could compare to. Angel ignited a wildfire within you, an overwhelming flame that set your body, mind and soul ablaze.

Playing with fire, you were bound to get burned.

This back and forth was draining, but the need for each other was insatiable. If you two were going to go down, you were going to do it together. Especially if it meant him “going down” on you.

You had each other in an unspoken claim, but neither of you were willing to commit. You two treaded the fine line between hot and cold, love and hate.

Was it the fear of getting too intimate, too attached? Was it the impenetrable walls that had guarded both of your broken hearts? These were the questions you often asked yourself, but never long enough to consider being something real with Angel, something … fulfilling.

Sex was just a means to an end - the end of being anything more.

It was the other’s attention that you both craved. This was the fuel to the fire, a root to all of your fights more often than not. Selfishly and heartlessly, he did whatever he could to get yours, and vice versa.

Whether it was Angel making out with a chick on his lap, or some dude grinding on you as you sat on the bar top, it was always a heated competition. There was no interest in either counterparts, but nothing riled Angel up more than another man’s hands all over what was his, and his only.

By the end of night, a tipsy Angel was moody and broody, and that’s exactly what you wanted. Angel fucking you was at its best when he took his anger out, where aggression met fervour in a sensual dance of two naked, sweaty bodies.

Angel’s primal instincts kicked in as he stormed over to you in full stride. His eyes never left yours, even while he yanked the guy away from you. Angel roughly grabbed onto your knees before spreading them apart and stepping in between. He had a possessive grip on your chin, tilting it upwards in an uncomfortable angle.

“Traviesa,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Mouth. Open.”

Angel’s thumb dragged across your bottom lip, and you did as you were told. He held your face in both hands as he sloppily tongued you down. He groaned while sucking on your tongue, pulling it in between his teeth until he finally let go.

“If I ever catch you doing that shit again, I’ll be fucking her instead,” Angel pointed to the inebriated blonde he had left behind. “Got it?”

You nodded hastily, your lips slightly quivering at Angel’s behavior. Angel caught a glimpse of your actions, being one to notice everything about you. He sighed as his overpowering demeanor faded into an expression of hurt, a certain sadness hidden behind those brown eyes.

Angel cupped your cheek before placing a soft, chaste kiss on your forehead. You leaned into the warmth of his palm, which was quickly replaced with a feeling of nothingness.

“EZ will take you home tonight,” he said coldly.

As your eyes shot open, you saw Angel had made his way back to her.

"I hate you", turns into "I love you", in the bedroom We fuck and make up like it's Maybelline We do petty things Then mess up the sheets, yeah Can't lie, the sex fire when you in your feels (woo) Spice it up a little (ooh) Yeah, you know the drill (know the drill)

You were straddled on top of Angel, buttons flying off of his flannel as you tore it off. Angel chuckled darkly as he thrusted his hard, clothed dick onto your panty-covered pussy. You moaned out his name, your nails dragging across his bare chest. Angel palmed your ass and groaned as he rolled his hips against yours, impatiently grinding into you from below.

“Still hate me, mami?”

Angel’s fingers roughly shifted your panties to the side, plunging two of them deep inside your cunt. His hand rubbed tight circles on your throbbing clit as he watched his rings dive deeper into your wet pussy.

“Ah, yes!” You cried out as you finger-fucked yourself onto him.

“Mm-hm. Then fuck me like you mean that shit,” Angel rasped against your lips, catching your moans in his mouth in a long, steamy kiss. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently as he pulled you closer.

“I want you to ride me. Take that cock. Your cock, mami.”

You made quick work of freeing his thick, curved length, gasping as you finally slid onto him. Angel dangerously whispered a litany of filthy thoughts into your ear, thrusting himself as his cock helplessly twitched inside you.

You whimpered, his thickness filling you to the brim over and over again. He drove his dick into you mercilessly, panting wildly with every brutal snap of his hips.

“Fuck. Fuuuck. My fucking pussy. I own it,” he growled. “Tell me it’s mine!”

Angel’s heavy hands groped the swells of your breasts, feverishly massaging and pinching your nipples with crazed purpose. Bringing one into his mouth, his tongue swirled seamlessly around it, providing a sensation of pain and pleasure as he tugged it in between his teeth.

You shrieked in response. “It’s y-yours. All yours, baby. Ahh!”

Your pace quickened as you bounced up and down whilst fucking yourself onto him. Your walls clenched around him, squeezing him of his ability to hold on any longer. Angel hissed as he slapped your ass, lewdly spreading your ample cheeks apart, grunting as he saw his fat cock sinking into you, swallowing him whole.

“What is? What’s mine? Oh shit, oh fuck.”

Slap!

“It’s this tight little pussy, right? Dripping onto me. Creaming my fucking cock. That’s what’s mine.”

Your sobs and whines made Angel throw his head back as he indulged in his euphoria, animalistically slamming himself into your needy cunt whilst chasing his release.

“You’re gonna make me come, mi dulce. Make me come, that’s it. Just like that, fuck!”

—

It had been a couple of minutes since you had collapsed into each other’s arms. Both of your backs rested against the headboard, the blanket loosely wrapped around your torsos.

Angel sleepily took a drag off of his cigarette, a billow of smoke exhaled through his nose. He ran a frustrated hand over his face as he sighed deeply.

“Who did you go out with tonight?”

“Why does it matter, Angel?”

“It fucking does. I want an answer.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you,” Angel agitatedly shifted onto his side, putting out the cigarette before switching the lamp off.

This was nothing out of the ordinary. Simply how most days started, and most nights ended.

I make you mad, mad, mad Why I gotta fuck you up to make you fuck like that? Pickin' fights so you can put it down like that

With every kiss, poison lingered on your tongues as they clashed together. The mutual agony fed off of one another in meaningless throes of passion, your intricately woven bodies latching onto the delicious hurt of it all.

As a consequence of trust issues and insecurities, neither of you felt worthy of the other, nor deserved a chance at true love. Not after treating each other the way you had been; it was too late - Angel was in too deep, and so were you.

Because to you, having a warm body was better than having nobody.

It destroyed him to be around you, but it killed him to be away. It was a vicious cycle, an unforgiving cyclone of toxicity.

However, all is fair in love and war. And what a war it was.

____________________________________________

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@ifoundmyhappythought @woahitslucyylu @starrynite7114@claytoncardenasbabymama @multiyfandomgirl40 @justlikebreathing @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @chibsytelford @fvckthisbxtchup @angelreyesgirl @sheeshgivemeabreak @awildcur @gemini0410 @lady-pswrld @hennessyauntie @thesandbeneathmytoes @abbiesthings @lilac-tea-time @itsamedeemoney @peaches007 @rebel-without-cause-x @mrs-losa

[Just ask if you’d like to be tagged!]

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes smut #angel reyes x black!reader #clayton cardenas #angel reyes imagine #mayans fx #mayans m.c.#mayans mc #mayans mc fanfic #x reader #songfic #x black!reader #x poc!reader

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hcywards · 4 years

Text

the hidden kinks prologue

this is cowritten with @rudys-pankow — the chapters will be posted on alternate accounts so make sure to keep updated with both of our accs

summary: jj stumbles upon y/n at a party, and, intoxicated, their conversation leads to them exploring several kinks.

words: 0.9k+

t/w: i dont even know,,, uhh underage drinking??

note: sadh is the one who came up with this idea so everyone say thank you sadh. anyways, we got the inspiration from @ptersparkers and @storiesbymads who wrote study sessions, which is really fucking good, by the way, so you should go read that

JJ Maybank wasn’t one to distance himself from an ongoing party. Even worse for a girl who chose to do so. But when his eyes landed upon you as you stared at the endless depths of the ocean glimmering faintly under the silvery moonlight, standing by the shore far from the crowds of drunk teenagers by the kegger, the sudden urge to approach you hit him like a dagger.

You weren’t fond of JJ Maybank, per se. Sure, he’s got the looks -- he had almost every girl in Outer Banks falling at his feet for that. But as a friend? You’ve never got the chance to get to know him as that. You walked in the fine, menacing line that distanced Pogues and Kooks which had come to be the reason your circle was small. Most Pogues saw you as nothing but a girl who was longing to be a Kook. Most Kooks saw you as a Pogue but with some extra cash. God knew neither group would associate themselves with you because you were too close to the other to be accepted.

So, when the blond himself takes inventory in the cold sand beside you, it was an understatement to say that you were surprised. A few too many drinks in, your mind had gone in a daze which led you to not hear him approaching -- and, even if you had, you would never have expected the footsteps in the sand to be his. After all, you’d probably had two conversations in your entire fifteen years of living in Outer Banks. Your groups just didn’t mix.

“Hi,” you spoke, voice not conveying half of your confusion -- the rest was written all over your face, with your brows furrowed and your eyes flickering from staring out over the dark ocean to meet his, equally as blue as the ocean, and almost as dark as the sea in the moonlight.

JJ suddenly realised this was a stupid idea, for once in his life regretting doing without thinking -- what was he supposed to say? He barely knew you, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to explain his sudden urge to walk over to you without sounding like an idiot, and he far less knew how to start a conversation. But he was staring blankly now, and that was almost worse. “Hi.”

Usually, JJ had no problem talking to girls. After all, he was the self-proclaimed flirt of the OBX, and shy wasn’t a word in his vocabulary. Now, though? Now, he could barely formulate a proper sentence in his head as he stared into your eyes, trying to think up something to say. He couldn’t just leave it at ‘hi’. That sounded stupid, and it’d make things awkward.

“I’m JJ,” he added finally, and that seemed even worse. He cringed at himself, wondering why he couldn’t just start speaking like he usually could as he waited for your response.

You nodded. “I know.” You were half expecting the cocky smirk you often saw him donning in return, but as you turned to face him properly, you saw that instead of the smirk, he was slightly smiling, obviously trying to work out what to say. “I’m Y/N.”

The blond paused for a moment, “I know.” he mimicked your words although it was from a lie. If he were being honest, he’d thought you were a Touron when he first saw you, but you didn’t have to know that. Besides, it gave him something to say.

The next few minutes were unexpected; yourself and JJ had engaged in a rather congenial conversation aside from the fact that consisted of his intoxicated-self throwing deep, philosophical questions your way to which you answered with what you liked to call it, intellect, although it was the alcohol talking. Either way, you’d never expected that tonight you’d end up talking to JJ and enjoying it.

“I’d let him tie me up and fuck my brains out.” You knew the words that left your lips were risky, especially when spoken in front of the infamous JJ Maybank, but your mind was elsewhere. These words were the only ones you could form when JJ decided to question you further about your celebrity crush.

“You say that but I can bet that you’re a prude.” JJ commented, credence laced in his voice as his hands sinked into the cold sand particles leaning back, the well-renowned and long overdue smirk plastered on his face as he stared at you intently.

A scoff left your lips, mustering up the right response to a statement as unexpected as the one he had passed over to you. “Oh, you wish I was.” you mumbled under your breath -- however, loud enough for him to hear. Looking up and in his direction, you felt heat rush through your cheeks after noticing his gaze was already set upon you.

“Now, why would I wish such a thing?” JJ commented, his smirk only widening. You suddenly found yourself wondering how he could say things like that with such casual ease, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you stared back at him. The moonlight fell right on his cerulean eyes, and that sight alone would’ve been enough to send your thoughts wandering out of reality but not today, it wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t be one to know, but I’m not.” the tone of your voice was changing, changing into a much more inviting and challenging tone. “And I can prove it.”

tagging a few of our mutuals: @outrbank @thelocalpogue @ijustreallylovethem @everydayimfangirling @decap-quadrant @anonymous0writer @drew-starkey @jayjaymaebank @calumbroutledge @starkeystyles @spilledtee @uwubonebabie @yungbludz @maaybanks @lovingxjj

#jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank series #outer banks series #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx x reader #obx #obx imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine

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hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 16

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

TEARS OF YMIR

Sigurd trudged through the snow-veiled woods, wishing desperately that he could veer off this path the gods had constructed for him. His mind was trapped in a perpetual state of fear, and the thoughts racing through his head only seemed to grow louder with every step he took.

He could feel it in his heart that Ulfar spoke the truth. There was merit in the accusations he threw against Dag, and Sigurd had even seen the man’s treachery for himself. He made it quite clear that he wasn’t on their side with the way he manipulated the assault at Kjotve’s Fortress, and the prince could no longer ignore the reality that was standing right in front of him.

But even then, Sigurd’s gut twisted at the idea of causing any harm to Dag. His entire childhood was formed of memories between the two of them, and he still saw him as the same little boy he once loved all those years ago.

He remembered the days they’d spend running around in the wilderness, only to end up covered in mud by the time they returned home. He hadn’t forgotten the way Styrbjorn would scold them for their reckless behavior, and how they’d make the exact same mistakes immediately afterwards.

The joy they shared, the sorrows they experienced, the burdens they had to carry -- it all stayed with Sigurd to this very day. He loved Dag like a brother despite the conflicts between them, and the thought of banishing him from Midgard tore a hole inside his chest.

But he was a leader now. A future king. With Ulfar dead, Sigurd would have to step up and protect the people he left behind. His position as prince would no longer be a mere title, and he would have to do whatever it took to keep his clan safe.

Even if it meant making a sacrifice as great as this.

“We’re here.” Sigurd said bleakly, stopping in his tracks once the waterfall came into view. He took a deep breath and gazed at the dreary environment, unable to even recognize the nature surrounding him.

This place once served as a sanctuary for the prince. It used to be a safe haven where he could take refuge when the troubles of his world proved to be overwhelming, and he often found a sense of tranquility in its earthly embrace. It always seemed to breathe with the spirit of the gods, and part of Sigurd even believed they walked with him sometimes when he ventured down this path.

Today though, the forest was barren of any life. The tragedies of the war had burrowed themselves into its very marrow, and it almost felt as if it could sense what was about to happen. The air was leaden with a suffocating anchor of dread, and it only seemed to crush Sigurd more and more the further he progressed.

He didn’t want to kill Dag. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to stop.

Part of even him was even considering simply exiling the man in order to avoid further bloodshed. Deep down though, he knew that wouldn’t be enough. He knew that Dag would most-likely run back into Kjotve’s arms once he broke free from the judgement of his clan, and cause their people a plethora of problems that they didn’t need.

It seemed like death was the only option here, and Sigurd hated himself for it.

“...Sigurd,” Dag said, approaching the man from behind. “Will you tell me what we’re doing now? Why have you brought us all the way out here? Is this about what happened between me and Ulfar?”

The prince kept his gaze on the view before him, leaving his hand close to his axe. His back was currently turned to the other man, and yet, he felt as if he could detect his every move.

“...Do you remember the day we met, Dag?” Sigurd asked. “All those years ago?”

The warrior noticed how his friend skirted the subject, but said nothing of it for now. “Of course. How could I forget? I was what, ten years old? Maybe younger? I had just given you a black eye during a training spar.”

Sigurd chuckled softly at the precious memory. “Indeed. And if I recall correctly, it wasn’t too long beforehand that I was boasting about how easily I’d be able to fell you. I was the king’s son, after all. Nothing could touch me.” The prince smirked. “...It seems that arrogance was my greatest enemy back then. The day I met you was the day I learned humility. It was the day I gained a brother.”

Dag leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms. “And do you still feel that way?”

The other man paused, his voice hardening with a cold edge. “...Yes. But I suspect that the sentiment is no longer mutual.”

Growing restless with anxiety, Sigurd finally decided to put this game to an end and shot an icy glare at his childhood friend, practically boring through his skull. He approached the older man and looked him in the eye, trying to keep his breath as steady as possible.

“...Dag,” he whispered, “you know how I feel about you. We may not share the same blood, but you are my family. No matter how distant we may grow, there will always be a link between us. And I will always see you as my brother. That’s why... I need you to tell me the truth.”

Sigurd took a few steps closer, barely shifting his gaze. “...Are you the traitor?”

Dag scoffed at the question and shook his head, reluctant to give a direct answer. “You can’t be serious. You actually believe in the nonsense Ulfar was spewing?”

“I believe his words held merit,” the prince persisted. “You can call it nonsense if you like, but that doesn’t change the fact that you stand as an accused man.”

The warrior stammered for a moment, taken aback by the preposterous notion. “What are you talking about, Sigurd? You were there! You saw what happened. I defeated Ulfar in honorable combat. I cleared my name. Isn’t that enough?”

“Enough for the Allfather perhaps, but not enough for me. Everything Ulfar said was true. The way you handled the assault nearly got all our people killed, and I know you well enough to know that you’re too smart to make such a grave mistake. You did it intentionally.”

Still, Dag remained in denial. “I don’t believe this. You would trust the word of a paranoid old man over someone you consider to be a brother?”

Sigurd raised his voice slightly, unable to hide his anger anymore. “I trust what I see! And over these past few weeks, I’ve seen you do nothing but traipse through the shadows like a thief in the night, hiding like coward whilst our men died on the battlefield. I saw you return from Kjotve’s Fortress without so much as a scratch on your armor, and I saw the apathy in your eyes when they fell on Thora’s corpse.”

The prince’s expression darkened with ire. “You claim you are innocent, but innocence always speaks for itself. I see no good reason why I should question Ulfar’s accusations, and I doubt you can give me one. So I’ll ask again--” he leaned in, “--are you the traitor?”

Dag rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the waterfall, furrowing his brow in disbelief. It was evident that he had something to say, but the stone shackles of pride hindered his ability to come clean.

“How do you know Ulfar wasn’t trying to save his own skin by throwing me to the wolves? He was in a much more powerful position than I. He could’ve done anything he liked and gotten away with it!”

“What reason could Ulfar possibly have had to turn against Arngeir? You really think he would’ve been willing to endanger Thora’s life? Or Eivor’s? He saw them as his own children.”

“Who knows? All I’m saying is -- he was awfully quick to pass judgement on me. We had hardly set foot on Bjornheimr’s shores, and he was already prepared for a fight. The way I see it, Ulfar wanted to use me as a scapegoat. He was the jarl’s right-hand man, after all. He knew he could’ve said anything about me without raising suspicion. I mean, just look at how easy it was to fool you.”

Sigurd’s glare only sharpened at that. “You think I’ve been fooled, do you?”

“Am I wrong? I know you held Ulfar in high regard, but typically, the largest shadows are cast by those who stand the tallest. He may have been a good warrior, but that doesn’t mean--”

The prince shook his head in frustration. “--Enough, Dag! Enough with the lies. Enough with the deflection. Just give me a straight answer. I’m done running in circles with you.”

The other man fell silent, completely at a loss for words. “...You still don’t believe me, do you?”

Sigurd lowered his head in sorrow. “...I wish I could, Dag. Trust me. I wish I could. But if I’m going to keep this clan safe, I can’t allow anything to hinder my judgement. Not even when it concerns you.”

Dag let out a sigh and nodded in defeat, staring blankly at the ground. It was clear to him that his arguments were doing nothing in terms of swaying the prince’s mind, and he didn’t know what else he could say to divert the man’s skepticism.

“...I see.” He murmured, looking back up at Sigurd. His demeanor had completely shifted compared to when they first arrived at the waterfall, and a grim sense of treachery clung onto his shrewd face. “...Very well then, old friend. If that’s how you wish to do things.”

Dag pushed himself off the tree and straightened his posture, finally deciding to reveal the truth.

“...Indeed, your conviction is rightfully placed, Sigurd. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to keep up this facade, but I see no point in maintaining it any longer.”

The warrior paused for a brief moment, taking a deep breath.

“I was the one who warned Kjotve.” Dag confessed. “I was the one who assisted him when he ambushed Bjornheimr, and I was the one who told him to flee his fortress before our clans could arrive. I told him of this alliance.”

Sigurd’s heart instantly shattered upon hearing the confession, and his jaw clenched in rage as a spark of betrayal flared inside his chest. He knew his suspicions had to be correct, but even then, nothing could’ve prepared him for the immense disappointment he’d receive from a revelation such as this.

The prince wandered away from Dag in shock and began pacing along the waterfall’s edge, uncertain of how to respond.

“...And why exactly... did you do it?” Sigurd questioned, his tone alarmingly quiet. “What led you to commit such... foolish treason?”

“I did it for the good of our clan.” Dag answered monotonously. “I did it to protect us.”

The other man threw a puzzled glance at him, bewildered by his justification.

“To protect us?” Sigurd gestured to the distant village, storming towards the warrior. “Bjornheimr lies in a bed of its own ashes thanks to you! The jarl’s daughter has been murdered, and you have the nerve to act as if this was an act of heroism? I grow tired of your deception, Dag. Just tell me the truth. What is the real reason you did this?”

The traitor’s nose crinkled in envy, and a newfound sense of contempt twisted his expression. He was behaving in a manner that Sigurd had never seen before, and yet, the prince felt as if he had known this side of Dag for his entire life.

“We don’t need the Bear Clan,” Dag said. “All they’ve done is weaken us. They’ve even weakened you. Especially that boy.”

Sigurd cocked a brow. “Boy? What boy? You mean Eivor?”

“Yes. He’s turned you soft, Sigurd. Everyone can see it. Before we came to this forsaken village, you were a warrior. A leader. A man worthy of holding a crown. You led raids on our enemies, and you crushed anyone who dared threaten our people. You were a king in everything but name. But now? You’ve just become another pawn.”

“What are you talking about, Dag? How have I become a pawn?”

The traitor laughed. “Are you joking? I see the way you look at Eivor. That man has you wrapped around his finger. He’s distracting you from the war, and you’re allowing it to happen.”

The prince’s face was plastered with a look of dread. “You know about me and Eivor...? Who told you?”

Dag waved a dismissive hand. “No one needed to tell me. It’s as clear as day. You may be wed to Randvi, but we all know where your loyalties really lie. You’re only fighting this war for one reason, and that’s so you can take Eivor to bed while the rest of us do the hard work.”

Sigurd’s eyes snapped onto Dag with an iron grip, and his voice dropped to a dangerously low level.

“Watch... your tongue, snake.”

The other man chuckled. “The truth is painful, isn’t it? Nothing stings quite like the bite of a harsh reality you can’t accept. But please, by all means -- continue to ignore it. Ignore it like you ignore everything else, and let your kingdom crumble for your own selfish needs.”

Sigurd brushed off the traitor’s taunts and got straight to the point, eager to put this to rest. “So you’re a puppet for jealousy now? Is that it? You did all this... just because you envied Eivor’s position?”

A scoff escaped Dag’s lips. “Pfft. I want nothing that man has. Like I said before, I did this for the good of our people. Whether or not you choose to see it that way doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. The gods know this too.”

“The gods spit on oath-breakers like you! Odin has no need for men such as yourself in his company, and neither do I.”

“Then deliver your justice, my lord. Strike me down with the judgement that you deemed so righteous you had to hide it away from prying eyes. The people of Bjornheimr may not be able to see you here, but the Allfather does. And he will remember.”

Sigurd turned away from Dag and rested a firm hand on his axe, using every bit of his strength to stifle the tears that threatened to spill. He wanted nothing more than to scream at the gods for putting him in such an impossible situation, and he could already feel himself breaking down from what he was about to do.

But he had to keep his promise. He had to. Although no longer in this realm, Ulfar was depending on him to protect their clans, and Sigurd didn’t have the heart to deny the man his dying wish.

...But he loved Dag. In spite of all of his crimes, the prince still saw the traitor as the same boy he grew up with, and his memories of their time together only seemed to be resurfacing with every second he spent delaying the inevitable.

What was he going to do when the man was dead? Sigurd may have despised Dag for going behind his back, but a piece of his soul remained bound to him nonetheless. There was a link between them that couldn’t be broken, and the prince felt as if he was about to sever one of his own limbs.

A part of him would undoubtedly go with Dag once the man departed from this realm, and Sigurd couldn’t imagine himself ever getting it back.

He just prayed he would be able to forgive himself someday.

“You... you were my brother, Dag.” Sigurd said, his spirit collapsing with every word. “I loved you. I did. You turned my childhood into something that I’ll always hold dear. I’ll never forget the time we spent together, or the joy I’d feel when you were around. Those memories are something that no one will ever be able to take from me.” He tightened his grip on the axe. “But I can’t let you walk free from this. I can’t let you hurt my clan anymore. I... I have to keep my promise. I’m sorry.”

Yanking the weapon out of its sheathe, the prince lunged at Dag without saying another word and buried the axe in his chest, immediately causing the man to stiffen in his clutch. The two of them toppled over onto the snow after a single strike, and within seconds, the traitor was already gasping for air.

He writhed in Sigurd’s embrace like a worm on a hook and desperately tried to pry the blade away from his heart, but to no avail. The other man simply held him down and forcibly kept the axe in place, pushing it deeper and deeper into his torso as tears began streaming down his cheeks.

Sigurd couldn’t believe what he was doing. As a child, he always pictured himself leading their clan into a glorious victory that would forever grace the lips of bards across the kingdom, and spread into endless sagas for generations to come. He thought his role in the war would be one of grandeur just like in the tales his father often told him, and he believed his path to Valhalla would be laden with silver and gold.

But now that he was actually here... he was finally realizing just how torturous the nature of war really was. He wept at the sight of Dag’s life vanishing from his eyes, and his stomach churned at the feeling of the man’s blood staining his hands.

There was also the fact that the traitor died without an axe in his grip. He left it with Ulfar back in Bjornheimr, and thus, paved the way straight to Hel’s gates. His soul would forever evade the magnificence of the Corpse Hall, and a part of Sigurd crumbled at the thought of never being able to reunite with his friend again.

Dag was gone for good... and it was all his fault.

Letting go of the axe’s hilt, Sigurd allowed himself to relax and climbed off of Dag’s body, taking a seat beside him as a series of breaths fled from his lungs.

...He did it. He actually did it.

The traitor had been removed from their midst, and their clans would be able to proceed without worrying about betrayal. Kjotve would no longer have an ally inside their walls, and Gorm would give them the last step they needed before taking him down at last.

Sigurd supposed he should’ve been relieved now that things were finally in their favor, but all he felt was emptiness.

His closest friend lay defeated under the blade of his own axe, and his world remained shaken by the multiple losses it had just suffered. He experienced no pleasure in the face of this so-called victory, and the only thing he had left to hope for was the sight of Kjotve’s head.

He just wanted this war to end. He wanted the constant turmoil of these never-ending battles to become a thing of the past, and he wanted to cleanse the seas of the blood that stained their shores.

Sigurd dreamed of a future where people wouldn’t have to share his clan’s pain, but deep down, he feared it would never become a reality.

The war had already lasted for a couple decades, after all. He saw no reason why the gods would allow it to end anytime soon.

“Sigurd?” Someone said abruptly, dragging the prince back to his senses.

The man glanced upward from where he sat and gazed in the distance, only to find Eivor watching him from afar.

“Eivor...?” Sigurd whispered, quickly wiping his face dry. “What... what are you doing here?”

The blonde viking stepped out from the trees and approached his lover, careful not to distress him even further.

“I saw you leave with Dag earlier,” Eivor answered softly, still drained from the shock of Ulfar’s loss. “The two of you were gone for a while, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He paused for a second, allowing his eyes to wander towards Dag. “...You really killed him.”

The older man stared helplessly at the sky, peering into the canopy of branches swaying above him.

“...Yes. I did.” He said, his voice trembling slightly. “I had to.”

Sighing morosely, Eivor pushed his way through the mounds of snow and walked over to Sigurd, crouching down in front of him. He comforted the distraught prince by gently caressing his cheek, and flicked away some stray tears with a simple swipe of the thumb. Afterwards, the young man reached over to the axe protruding from Dag’s chest and carefully removed it, wiping it clean before laying it in Sigurd’s lap.

“You did the right thing. I know it wasn’t easy, but our clan will sleep better at night thanks to you.”

Sigurd loosely met Eivor’s gaze, entirely devoid of life. “...I feel like a monster. Dag was... he was my brother. I know everyone else saw him as a traitor, but to me, he was always that little boy I met in Fornburg.” His expression sank with grief. “...That little boy is dead now because of me. I killed him.”

Eivor held the prince’s face in his hands. “No, Sigurd. You didn’t kill that boy. Dag did. A long time ago.”

The redheaded warrior offered nothing but silence in response, causing Eivor to return to his feet.

“Come, my love.” He beckoned, reaching an arm out. “We should return to the village.”

Sigurd remained motionless on the ground, simply looking over at Dag’s body.

“Wait. Could we... bring him back with us? I’m aware of Dag’s crimes, but even then, I’d like to give him a proper burial.”

“Of course,” Eivor assured. “Many in the clan will question his presence at the funeral, but I’ll send someone to retrieve him once we return. Don’t worry. We won’t leave him behind.”

Sigurd propped himself up on one knee and grabbed the other man’s arm, rising from the snow. “Thank you, Eivor.”

The Wolf-Kissed guided his lover away from the waterfall and called for his horse, leading the prince back home.

“Come on.” He whispered lovingly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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marvelousell · 4 years

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The Agreement (Part 2.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I’m giving you the juice guys👀. Hope you all enjoy this! I would appreciate it if you comment, reblog or send a feedback!❤️

My tag list is open for this series!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of alcohol

Part 1.

“Tom.” Your mind was hazy, you tried your best to resist this, but holy shit you wanted this since forever.

“How about I suggest something to you darling?”

“Suggest?! Dear Lord am I really going to accept that suggestion.” The voice inside your head spoke, making you anxious.

You weren’t ready for this situation that happened all of a sudden.

Are you really in for a drunk one time thing?

Absolutely not.

But wasn’t that what you wanted?

Yes. Not like this, but yes.

“God get yourself together, maybe Tom really was right when he said that I need to loosen up a bit.” You continued, hoping that he couldn’t hear the thoughts that were literally screaming in your mind.

“What do you say darling?” Tom’s hoarse voice brought you back to reality.

“Can you repeat that please?” You asked.

His lips were brushing over your earlobe as he chuckled quietly, sending shivers up and down your spine.

Now I see why every freaking girl is crazy about him.

He knows what he’s doing.

“I said..” He started again, moving the strand of your hair behind you ear, “We are best friends right?”

You nodded, eyes now fixed on his.

“And ya know, friends help each other.” He stated.

“I said, what about we be each other’s relief?” His eyebrow rose up, trying to say “what do you think then?”

You knew what this meant.

Friends with benefits? Could you really keep up with that?

You would basically be like the other girls around college, but for more nights.

God that sounded disgusting.

“Come on Y/N this is once in a lifetime. You could have amazing sex and still your best friend by your side, and at least you’re doing it with someone you know.” Your mind having a monologue again, now making you more and more sure that you’re going to say yes.

“Tom I..” You tried to form a sentence, but the alcohol and anxiety got mixed together, creating a stuttering mess.

“You know love, just sex, whenever you need me and whenever I need you.” He said.

“We can set some rules if you want to, but later because I just want to feel you already.”

His palms were squeezing your bum, and light kisses were pressed near your ear.

The heath was rushing not just to your cheeks but downstairs as well.

Fuck this I haven’t had some good time in a while, I’m in.

“So, gonna answer me love? Are you going to let me pleasure you?” His teeth sank into your neck, receiving a croaky moan from you.

“Shit, yes. I want this.” You answered, grinding your hips innocently against his.

He didn’t need to hear more, his hands gripped your hips bringing your torso as close as he could to his.

His lips attacked yours, the make out that was full of lust got faster and hotter.

You were whining in his mouth, hungry for more. His hands would caress your inner thighs, his thumbs extremely close to your now dripping heath.

“Bedroom?” He broke the kiss, still holding the nape of your neck.

“Mhm.” You uttered, bringing your lips back to his swollen ones.

“So eager already.” Tom’s voice and laugh ringed through your ears.

He stood up with you in his arms, your arms around his broad shoulders and in his messy hair.

Your heart was a beating chaos. This wasn’t you, but hey maybe trying something new wouldn’t hurt.

Maybe.

Tom was fast, stripping out of his clothes so he could focus on you only.

You saw him a million times shirtless, but goddam his toned chest and muscles were making you currently flustered.

“To much clothes, don’t you think love?” His hands slid inside your shirt, teasing your underboob.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath, wanting to feel his fingers on your erect nipples.

His hand went down to the band of your shorts, sliding them down awfully slow.

Tom wanted to explore every part of your body, however the throbbing in his pants didn’t allow that, distracting him majorly.

He was going crazy from the view in front of him.

The image of you with your legs in the air, begging him for more haunted him for a while, and now it would finally come true.

You got in the meantime rid of your shirt, now waiting for Tom to leave you both only in your underwear.

The alcohol pumped through your blood, making you more confident than ever.

Your hands were roaming your body, finally coming to your breasts.

The pad of your thumb circled around your hard nipple, forming a moan in your throat.

“You’re a naughty one, aren’t you Y/N?” Tom needed to slide a comment. How could he not after seeing you play with yourself?

He’s gonna fuck you so hard.

“Just do something, please Tom.” You managed to mumble.

Tom’s hand made his way to your core, placing his palm there, cupping your clothed pussy.

The feeling of you dripping already, staining your little panties was a pure bliss for Tom.

“My, my, my…” He began with a smirk on his face, “This wet just for me? You are gonna make me fucking explode love.”

The dirty talk.

He did it on purpose, always wanting to hear them beg for more.

“Stay still love, and tell me what do you want.” He began to rub your clothed clit, eyeing your breasts and your fingers that were playing with them.

Your eyes were closed, your back arched, waiting for any kind of touch.

“I-I need you.” You half whispered, trying to move your hips closer to him, only to get stopped by his hands that pinned you down.

“Come on love, I think you can do better than that right? Are you going to be a good pet and tell me what you desire?” His thumb going down to your entrance, sliding up and down a few times.

My God you were falling apart.

He knew you were a fucking goddess under all of those school clothes.

Before you could answer he sneaked his finger inside of your panties, coming in contact with your wetness, teasing the shit out of you.

“Oh crap Tommy, need you inside of me. Need you to fill me up. Please.” You pleaded, sweetly.

“Did you really said that Y/N?! Never knew you had that in yourself.” Your mind active once again.

You tried to push away the thoughts, to enjoy this much wanted moment.

“Since you asked so nicely, I need to grant your wish for sure.” He laughed, peeling off his boxers, freeing his hard member.

You lifted yourself up, observing his naked body.

“Oh don’t be awkward now Y/N, show him that you’re not a dull one.”

Your knees were on the mattress, his abs flexing from the touch of your fingertips that brushed down to his cock.

“Bloody hell..” He muttered, closing his eyes, “As much as I want to feel your sweet mouth on me I-shit.. need to leave that for another time.” Tom’s sentences were a mess after you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him a few times and leaving kisses on his abs.

You wanted to tease him a bit more, stroking his red tip, smearing the precum.

“You gonna tease me? I don’t think so darling.” He got himself together, pressing you down on the bed.

“Open your legs for me, I want to see you.”

You obeyed him, spreading you legs wide open.

Tom was still convinced that this is all a dream.

That he was probably drunk, horny and now having a sex dream about you.

“Tommy..” Your voice made him so weak.

He wanted to hear his name on repeat coming from you.

To scream it before you cum, so everyone knows who is making you feel this way.

Tom loved the feeling of your body that was writhing beneath him. He loved how vocal you were, never wanting this moment to end.

“Condom?”

“I’m on the pill.”

His tip glided up and down from your clit to your entrance.

He took his time, entering you steadily.

The warmth and tightness of your walls made him growl, clutching your legs harder from the pleasure you were giving him.

“Christ, you are bloody amazing.” He said, placing his arms near your head to hover over your body.

His lips crushed into yours for another heated make out.

The movements became faster and rougher, his arms pushing your legs to your chest to go as deep as he could.

Both of you were moaning in unison, enjoying the mutual pleasure.

“On your knees love, want to see your beautiful ass while I fuck you.” He commanded, slapping your ass once when you were turning around.

“I really turned you on huh? Look at you you’re leaking. Fucking amazing.”

“Ah, shit Tom.” You cursed as he slipped into you.

You were feeling so full.

He gripped your hair, slamming into you rapidly.

“Who knew you were this dirty love. I guess I was wrong about you being boring. You just needed someone who can show you a good time. Isn’t that right love?” He asked, pressing his chest on your back.

“Oh fucking helll, yes. Yes that’s right.” You cried into the sheets, grasping them tightly.

He smiled into your shoulder, kneading your breast, pinching the sensitive nipple.

You were almost near the edge, squeezing around him uncontrollably. His hand found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing harsh circles over it, only to feel you shake around him.

“I-Tom, please don’t stop. I’m so close.” You begged, arching your back.

“Go on love, I can feel you squeezing me. Let go, cum for me.” His words made you come undone in a second, with him helping you to ride out your orgasm.

“Fuuuuck.” You groaned loudly.

“That’s it, Gosh you look heavenly when you cum, can’t wait to see that every day.”

His thrusts became sloppy, he sneaked his arm around your stomach and one on your shoulder to pound into you harder.

He pulled out, jerking his cock.

The thick ropes of his cum covered your back and ass, making you squeal from the feeling.

The room was filled with your grunts, heavy breathing and the smell of sex.

Tom made his way to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean himself and you.

“This was…” He began, still breathing heavily.

“Something new.” You added, rolling under the sheets to hide your body.

“Yeah.” The silence was eating you up now.

God what now? Is everything going to be totally awkward from now on? Is he going to leave like he does normally?

To many questions calm down Y/N.

“Can I stay for the night?” His question threw you off the tracks.

Well he stayed in your apartment a thousand times, but when things weren’t like this.

Doesn’t he usually leave after this?

“Maybe he is just tired and wants to stay, don’t be stupid he doesn’t do feelings. And you shouldn’t involve yours you know he would never love you in that way.” You overthought again.

Yes, he is tired that’s all.

“Of course.” You answered, standing up to put on a shirt and make your way to the couch.

“Hey where are you going?”

“Um on the couch? You can take my bed it’s not a problem really.” You said softly, fumbling the hem of your shirt.

“Don’t be stupid Y/N. We slept in the same bed since we were little, you don’t need to be shy now.”

“I-I guess so.”

“You want to talk about this a little?” He asked, as the two of you got under the sheets.

“Sure.” Your eyes were glued to his side profile, admiring every detail of his face.

“Did you ever do something like this?”

“Not really.”

“How you mean not really?” He chuckled, turning his head to face you.

“Well I did have sex..but with a friend and for a long time, no.”

“It’s okay. You know that you’re my best friend right?” He asked you once again tonight.

Best friend. Right.

“Yes..”

“And I mean you’re attractive as fuck honestly.”

“Oh c’mon now, you’re just trying to get in my pants.” You laughed, leaning your forehead on his bare shoulder.

“I already did.”

“Jerk.” You slapped him on the arm.

“Okay, now for real. I just wanted to say if you really want to, we could be like this friends with benefits thing. You know.” He began.

“We’re friends, there are no feelings involved between the two of us so it makes it easier don’t you think? But we can both pleasure each other when we feel the need to.”

No feelings my ass.

Dear God I want this more than anything.

Can I really put the feelings aside?

Hope so.

“Yeah, I agree. You know at least I’m doing this with you, not a stranger.” You said.

“That’s what I was saying. And at the end of the day we still be friends, doing things that we usually do.” Tom stated, flashing a smile to you.

“True.” You smiled back at him.

“So, want to talk about some ‘rules’. I mean just so we don’t get confused.”

“Absolutely. I guess first one is no feelings right?” You sat up, turning your gaze to his as he did the same.

“Yes, but that won’t be tough we’re besties, however if it happens we need to tell each other, so we can stop it okay?”

Uh-oh.

“Got it.”

“We can have sex with other people, you can have relationships and that stuff, me as well but you know I’m not interested in that so I’m sticking with the first thing.”

“Absolutely, I’m not gonna be with your ass only.” You joked, receiving an eye roll from Tom.

“Okay, so we’re keeping this a secret, even from our friends and your brothers.” You spoke.

“Sure, anything else?” Tom asked.

“We still do our movie nights right?”

“Definitely, we’re doing everything we’ve done since now.” He laughed, embracing you in a hug.

“Okay deal.” You extended your hand to seal the deal.

“Deal.” He took your hand shaking it once.

“Now let’s sleep, I’m tired, half drunk, and my head is pounding.” You added, sinking down to adjust yourself to go to sleep.

“Yeah, we both need it after this night.” He lay down, turning his back to yours.

“Good night Tom.”

“Night love.”

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@hannahholland1811

@yoinkyourheart

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fckinsupreme · 4 years

Text

Touch Me (I Want Your Body) - Xavier Plympton One-Shot

Description: After a jazzercise class in which you’re a regular, Xavier fantasizes about you.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Male masturbation, dirty talk, mentions of female reader, mentions of oral sex, mentions of unprotected sex, other filth.

A/N: Anonymous requested - Hello ^w^ could u write a smut where xavier is touching himself/masturbating/moaning n talkin’ dirty ? Idk if it’s gross or whatever, btw it would be so wonderful.

Sorry if this has been done before! It turned out a lot longer than I planned, too. The title was taken from Samantha Fox’s song of the same name. I hope y’all like it! <3

No copyright infringement intended! Any rights belong to proper shareholders and they deserve the ultimate credit.

gif credit: @codyfernsource

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Xavier’s work day at the studio had ended, and his head was full of nothing but you as he sped home. It seemed that you were always on his mind, but for some unknown reason that day, his thoughts were in complete overdrive. Perhaps it was the daring ensemble you’d worn to his aerobics class, something white and nearly transparent with a thin sports bra beneath, to say nothing of the short, almost revealing bottoms. Xavier hadn’t been able to stop looking at you, his eyes finding you in front of the class time and time again, observing the near-erotic fashion that your body moved under his guidance. He was riled up, to say the least, and had to get home before his belief of combustion came to fruition.

Driving had been a difficult task in his current state, but he somehow managed well enough. He parked his van in his designated parking space and nearly sprinted into his apartment, stumbling along the way in his haste. He peeled his clothes off as soon as he entered, leaving a trail of them from his front door to the bedroom. His erection was almost painful as it sprang free of his underwear, swollen and flushed red with a tiny bead of precum oozing from the tip. He fell onto his unmade bed, clumsily reaching for the lube from his nightstand drawer. He kept it next to him, close and at the ready, as his fingertips ghosted over his shaft. He started at the base, shuddering as your face began swirling in his mind again. He saw you, as you were that afternoon, biting your lip suggestively as your beautiful (e/c) eyes scanned his toned physique. He remembered your chest pushed out a bit unnecessarily as he made eye contact with you, your lips parted as you tossed some hair from your face.

“Fuck,” he drawled, closing his fist around his aching cock and pumping slowly. “Y/N.”

Your voice, sweet as honey dripping from a hive, rang through Xavier’s head. All the conversations the two of you would have before and after each class, the way your lashes fluttered when you laughed at his dumb jokes, the flirtatious touch to his bicep when he would turn up the charm, the musical lilt of your voice flowing in and out of his ears every time you spoke. He imagined what you would sound like full of lust, your voice raspy and low as he warmed your body up for him. His hand snaking over one of your legs, his mouth on your neck, his other hand massaging your breast, your hands in his hair as you vocalized your desire...

Xavier pumped faster, stopping after a moment to pop open the lube. He didn’t want to chafe, wanting to enjoy this experience as much as possible with no horrid consequences. He squirted a generous amount onto his palm, slicking his cock with a moan as his eyes slipped closed. Behind his lids, he saw you again in today’s class. That tight, white exercise outfit, clinging to your hips and breasts like a second skin. Your nipples, erect and visibly poking within the fabric, enticed him to the point of being unable to look away. Every time his gaze left you and would find you again, your nipples were still stiff inside the confines of your top. At one point you’d bent forward, and a small trail of sweat made its way between the valley of your breasts. Your body swayed perfectly to the music, as if it were your own private dance meant for his eyes only.

He moves his fist more vigorously, a new image taking over. He saw you in his bed right then, nude and writhing above him as you sat on his face. You tasted as sweet as strawberries in summer, your moans the most beautiful song filling his ears. His tongue lapped every drop of arousal, his cock throbbing in his hand as he tried to picture what you’d look like on his relentless tongue. Your chest was heaving, your nipples hard as you played with them, your eyes droopy with lust, your messy (h/c) hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, your hips pushing downward to grind your pussy against his face. Xavier bit his lip, moaning hotly before swallowing thickly as the realistic image played in his mind. His orgasm was close, his lower stomach tight and skin on fire as he anticipated his eventual release.

“Y/N/,” he breathed, the sounds of him jerking off nearly drowning out his own voice. “You taste so good, babe. Sweeter than fucking sugar. You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re dripping all over my face.”

Xavier’s thumb toyed with his slit, pressing into it as he massaged around the head. He groaned, other hand trailing down his body to rest on his balls. He cupped them, giving them a squeeze as he arched slightly off the bed. In his head, he fantasized about you cumming, all because of him and the magic that he his mouth could do. You looked so stunning, so blissed out, your thighs shaking around his head as you squirt in his face. He smiled to himself, swallowing around a loud mewl as he bucked upward into his hand. He allowed the movie of his mind to switch scenes, with you on your knees deep-throating his cock. He held your hair from your eyes, smirking as you enthusiastically gave him a messy blowjob.

“Such a good girl,” he said aloud, whimpering audibly after the words fell from his lips. “You’re taking my cock so well, fuck.”

He kept his hips still in his fantasy, but outwardly, he was rutting in near-frenzied desperation. His hand traveled from his base to the tip, occasionally swiping his thumb against the slit. He applied more lube, making the image in his head seem more realistic as he resumed. He rolled his head on the pillow, body squirming and styled hair slightly disheveled as he felt his climax creeping ever closer. The sight of you on your knees was nice, and it brought him great pleasure, but he needed something more. He decided to turn to the one fantasy about you that never failed to do the trick, his tongue gliding over his full lips before speaking to the vacant space.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, flicking his wrist with a soft growl. “Do you want me to pound that perfect little pussy? Just say the word, baby, and I’ll do it.”

You consented in his head, begging him to fuck you immediately. He saw himself helping you onto your back, his own body hovering over yours. You gave him a nod and he pushed inside of you, both imaginary & real Xavier moaning filthily at the perceived sensation. You were tight, warm, enveloping his cock so well as he shoved even further inside. He stopped his hand for a moment to gather himself, continuing more rapidly than before when he was ready again. He imagined thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, one that wasn’t too hard just yet. His body was damp with sweat, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing as the pressure in his abdomen crept toward a breaking point. You felt so fucking good, and you weren’t shy in conveying how the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t stop moaning, clawing at him, gasping his name as though it were the only thing keeping you alive as you repeatedly clenched around his throbbing erection.

“You fit me like a fucking glove, baby girl,” he groaned to the empty room, the Xavier of his imagination speeding up and rubbing your clit in rapid circles. In reality, his movements become jerkier, his slick hand faltering for a split second before pumping as fast as he could. “Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna make a mess all over Daddy?”

You answered him by experiencing your orgasm, nails digging into his skin as you cried out his name. Your cunt squeezed around him, contracting and threatening to milk every last drop of cum from his balls. You arched against him, lips open and face twisted in ecstasy as he thrust desperately into his fist. His climax was coming hard and fast, and he was unable to stop it. His eyes rolled back into his skull, his cock twitching within his lubed palm as the coil in his stomach began to snap.

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N...Beautiful fucking goddess that she was, coming undone because of me. Goddammit, she’s so gorgeous when she cums. Look at her, oh dear God, fucking look at her--

“Fuck!” Xavier cried, his loud moans ricocheting off the walls. Hot ropes of sticky cum coated his stomach, some of it shooting onto his palm and a few drops cascading his shaft. His back came off the mattress, head tossed into the pillows as he mewled needfully. “Y/N, shit…”

He lay there for a moment, experiencing his high as his rational mind began to make a comeback. He grinned to himself, holding up his soiled hand to assess the damages. He grabbed a few tissues from the top of his nightstand, wiping the worst of the mess away before going into the bathroom to properly clean up. As he was washing off the sweat & semen in the shower, now relaxed and clear-headed, he remembered something that had occurred earlier: You had given him your number with a flirty wink and a sultry, “Call me sometime this weekend.”

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. How could he have forgotten something so significant? Perhaps it was the lust, or his desire to release his own sexual tension, or maybe he’d been too distracted by that damn workout ensemble of yours. He had no real way of pinpointing the exact cause at this point, but what if it wasn’t real? What if it was a figment of his sex-charged imagination? It would explain why it took him so long to remember, the forgotten memory not a real loss due to the fact that it never even happened.

Xavier finished his shower in a hurry, drying off haphazardly and rushing to his discarded workout shorts. He dug through the pockets in a panic, thinking that he did remember incorrectly when he started turning up nothing. Then, he finds it--a small scrap of paper with your name and phone number written across it. He exhaled a sigh of relief, clutching it in his hand as if it were something rare and sacred that would destroy him if it were lost. He glanced at it, chewing his lip as he briefly debated what to do. He knew that it may be a foolish mistake, but he ran to the phone immediately and dialed the number.

After everything he’d just done, he wondered if those fantasies would become a reality. He had to know; the curiosity was killing him. If you didn’t want to do anything with him, it would be absolutely fine, of course. But what if you did? What if you desired him as much as he did you? More than once, he mused about whether or not you touched yourself to him as well. The thought alone always turned him on all the more, and he had to make himself stop at that very moment before he created yet another monster later on.

“Hello?” your breathless voice rang from the other end, abruptly bringing Xavier out of his own head and catching him off guard.

That voice. That sweet, sexy voice…

“Uh, Y/N,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried collecting his thoughts. “Hey, pretty girl.” He took a beat, trying to decide what to say before blurting: “I was gonna go get some coffee later and wondered if you wanted to go with me?”

There was near-silence on the other end, and Xavier could’ve sworn he heard the sound of a vibrator when she picked up. It stopped during the pause, and Xavier wouldn’t allow himself to believe that she was doing what he perceived her to be doing. It would have been too good to be true, a disappointment bred from wishful thinking. He clutched the phone hard, chewing the inside of his cheek as he awaited her next move.

A breathy chuckle came from her, and then: “Xavier? Xavier Plympton? Hey there, handsome; I was hoping you would call.”

You sounded out of breath still, and his brows knitted together. “Are you busy? Is this a bad time for you?”

“Mmm, no,” you breathed. “It’s a great time, Xav.”

He smiled nervously into the receiver, toying with the coiled cord of the phone. His palms were moist, his teeth picking at the dry, chapped skin of his lower tier. The very thought of what you may have been doing when he called was highly arousing, and he had to steady his breathing to keep himself distracted. “Yeah, uh...I know it’s really soon--”

“Never too soon when it comes to you,” you say flirtatiously. “I’m happy that you called right away.” Another pause, the sound of her shifting on the other side, and then: “Let’s go get that coffee, and then if you really want…”

Xavier waited with bated breath, pondering over what you would say next. When it came, he nearly toppled over, gripping the nearest surface so hard that his knuckles turned white. Of all the things he expected you to say, that had been the last on the list. He didn’t know what else to say, too stunned to even formulate a clear, understandable statement. She was waiting for him to reply to everything she had just said, though, and he said the first thing that came to mind.

“...well, fuck.”

____

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sugarsugarmoon · 4 years

Text

Dearly Beloved

Summary: Your friend from high school, Taehyung, helps you out when you need a wedding date.

Genre: SMUT and a little bit of fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, swearing, recreational alcohol use, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz use protection irl), spanking, some biting, dom!Taehyung, brat!reader

a/n: sorry Triv. sorry mom. If digital headstones are a thing by the time I die, please put this gif on mine. I listened to “Earned It” by The Weeknd the whole time I wrote all the nasty stuff.

Word Count: 6473

Your best friend is sweet and kind. She is the most generous person that you’ve ever met, and she can make you laugh harder than anyone on this planet. She has cradled you in her arms as you cried over boys, and, when your dad nearly died of cancer, she was there with you in the hospital every day, coffee in hand, ready to listen or just sit with you.

You take a deep breath through your nose and remind yourself of all of this. You love her more than pretty much anyone on this planet, but in this moment you have never wanted to slap her so much in the whole time you’ve known her.

She has been planning and preparing for her wedding for over a year, and the date is only two weeks away. The extravagance of it isn’t really your style, but she’s one of those people that has been dreaming of her wedding since she was a little girl. She has a vision.

At this present moment, you are surrounded by small cuts of lumber, empty vases, fake greenery, and tea lights. Your job today is to assemble the centerpieces. You sit in the middle of the room on the floor, surrounded on all sides by your craft supplies. She is standing just outside your ring of accoutrements, crying and yelling. You aren’t totally sure what she’s yelling about. Seating arrangements? Maybe someone canceled? Honestly, at this point it’s unintelligible, so you decide it’s best to just let her carry on.

“And you!” you hear, clear as day.

You look up from your project and see her finger pointing toward wear you sit on the carpet. You look behind you, half expecting someone else to be there; you’ve done nothing but help. You turn back to her and barely raise a finger to point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in bewilderment. You mouth, “me?”

“Yes, you! Who else would it be? God.” You know she’s just stressed, so you take a deep breath and clench your fists around the fake greenery in your hands. “When we first started planning, you said you were gonna have a date, and I’m sorry things didn’t work with Yoongi, I really am, but now the seating arrangement is fucked and the whole entrance of the wedding party is fucked. It’s fucked, y/n. Could you just ask Yoongi to go with you?”

“Just ask Yoongi?” you spit back, “You want me to ask the man who broke my heart? Tore it into a million little pieces, who is, mind you, already going to be at the wedding because he’s friends with your future husband, to be my date? So...what? So I can get my hopes up again when he’s nice to me, because of course he will be, and get my heart smashed again? Oh but your seating arrangement will be good, so I should just suck it up. Right. Sure.”

You’re standing now, having spilled tea lights all over the floor with the sudden movement. You are breathing heavily, fists clenched at your side, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Things didn’t work out when you had told your workaholic boyfriend, Yoongi, that you wanted to get more serious, maybe move in together and consider marriage. You don’t think he meant to laugh at you, but he did laugh when you brought it up. He said that it was clear the two of you wanted different things, and he ended it with you. You clearly aren’t over him yet, and she knew that.

Your friends face softens for a moment. You can see the reality of what she said smoothing her features.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so stressed…” she trails off.

“Look, you want me to get a date? I’ll get a fuckin’ date. But I will not be caught dead on Min Yoongi’s arm.” You turn on your heel and let yourself out of her house, slamming the door behind you.

When all the rage fades, you realize what you’ve said that you’re going to do. You also realize that you left all centerpieces unassembled in the middle of the floor. You call your best friends mom and ask her to go over and finish them.

“I am already on my way over there, sweetie. But did I hear right that you are going to get a date for the wedding? Where?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

You know she isn’t trying to be hurtful but c’mon, I know guys! You think to yourself. I know so many guys. I know...Yoongi for one, and Hobi. Granted Hobi is marrying my best friend in two weeks. I know….oh! Jungkook! Jungkook will totally go with me!

“I know guys!” you respond to her with excitement in your voice. “I actually have to call the guy that I’m asking right now though, so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks again for doing the centerpieces.”

As you hang up, you quickly scroll through the names on your phone until you land on Jeon Jungkook. You tap out the message on your screen quickly and send it away.

You: Hey JK! I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to a wedding in two weeks. It’s out of town, so hotel. All expenses paid. Huh?

You put your phone down feeling optimistic. Jungkook loves to dance, and he’s a fun guy. Not only does he seem like a living human male who will go with you, you actually don’t hate the idea of going together with him. The excitement doesn’t last long.

Jeon Jungkook: y/n! Hey! I wish I could, but I’ll be back home in Busan. I’m so sorry!

You: No prob, buddy. I’ll go with Yoongi 😬

Jeon Jungkook: No! I won’t let you do that! He broke your heart. Let me give you hyung’s number. You remember Tae? From high school? He’s cool, and he’s free (he just asked me to make plans that weekend). Hit him up.

He sends you the contact. Kim Taehyung. You stare at the number for a long time before you type up a text, and you stare at the text for even longer before you send it.

You: Hi Taehyung, this is y/n. JK gave me your number, and he said you might be free in two weeks to be my date to a wedding. Nothing weird or anything! I just can’t go alone, and if I don’t bring a date, my friend is going to make me go with my ex. It’s a long story. Anyway, it is out of town, but your hotel and all your food and stuff would be paid for. Just let me know.

You exhale a deep breath after you hit send. You hope it doesn’t sound too weird or desperate or anything even though you are definitely both weird and desperate.

Kim Taehyung: sure! I’m always down for an adventure.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which is short-lived when you realize you don’t know anything about Taehyung anymore. You ran in the same circle in high school, connected by your mutual closeness to Jungkook. You text him back asking him to meet you for coffee, so you can go over the plan. The two of you decide to meet that afternoon, and the anxiety in your chest begins to loosen just a tiny bit.

….

When you get to the coffee shop, you find a spot by the window in the big squashy chairs. You order yourself a latte and play on your phone, waiting for Taehyung. You hear someone softly clear their throat, and your eyes scan the figure in front you. You don’t mean to give him the up-and-down, you really don’t. But the man standing in front of you is not the same Taehyung you remember. You remember a scrawny boy with too much eyeliner (yikes) trying to act like a man while still dealing with all his teenage emotions.

Before you stands, perhaps, the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He is tall, taller than he was when you last saw him, and he is fuller too. He is no longer gangly and awkward. He has broad shoulders, firm pecs, and toned arms that you can see straining against the fabric of his tight black shirt. His black hair is long and messy, and tendrils hang down into his eyes. He has a smile on his face when your eyes finally meet his.

“Hi, y/n! It’s been so long!” he exclaims as he reaches out and pulls you into a hug.

You are shocked by the sudden touch and hesitate to put your arms around him. Even while he holds you for a moment with your arms at your sides, you feel comforted and safe. He smells like lavender and chamomile mixed with something else - maybe just his own skin.

When he lets you go, he looks a little embarrassed and backs up into his chair across from yours.

The two of you catch up about what you’ve been up to since high school: college, careers, failed relationships. You tell him all about what happened with Yoongi, but you don’t mention that you’re not over it yet. He tells you that his ex-girlfriend cheated in a one night stand with a girl at a club, and he had been pretty broken up about it.

You set your plans for leaving to get to the wedding early together. You have to be there on Thursday night because the bachelorette party was Friday and the wedding was on Sunday. He agrees, and you say goodbye to one another, this time without the hug.

****

Thursday afternoon you are packing your bags making sure that you have everything when your phone rings. It’s your best friend, so you take a deep breath before you answer it, trying to stay as calm as possible since she is a total mess. “Good morning, my beautiful best friend and soon-to-be bride,” you say in a syrupy tone that she knows is facetious.

“I have bad news,” she huffs and without pausing she continues, “we booked the hotel when you and Yoongi were still together. So we only booked one room for you and Yoongi. So now Yoongi doesn’t have a room, and your date...Tae or whatever...doesn’t have a room either. And I know that I’m being insensitive right now, but you and Yoongi breaking up is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

She’s definitely crying and spiraling. “I mean...it wasn’t great for me either,” you attempt to joke, but she just sobs harder.

“Okay, okay. It’s fine. Yoongi will just stay with Hobi until Sunday, then on Sunday, you and Hobi are going to stay together anyway, yeah? So that problem is solved. As for Tae...I’ll talk to him, okay? No big deal,” you console her, unsure what you’re going to say to Tae.

She lets out a long sigh, but her crying seems to be evening out. “You’re right. Okay.” You finish the phone call and send a text to Tae.

You: So...funny story...youandihavetoshareahotelroomnowsorryokaybye

You toss your phone aside and finish packing your bags. As you are loading up the car, Tae pulls up. He looks just as good as he did the other day, wearing a loose t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He’s carrying a single leather duffle bag, and he has a huge smile on his face. He almost looks like he’s laughing.

The drive is only three hours, but it is long enough to be boring. You’re glad that you have company, and you and Tae crank up the radio singing along and laughing. You play car games together, and it is an overall good time.

When you get to the hotel, you are a little unsure of what to do or how to handle sharing a room with Tae. You slide the key in the door to the hotel room and exhale in relief when you see there are two beds in the room. You each take up your side and start to settle in.

When it’s time for you to get changed for bed, you awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom to change. Even though you normally just sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt, you put on a whole pajama get up because you aren’t sure how modest you should be with Tae.

When you come out, he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and gives you that warm, gentle smile again. How does he look so good just sitting on his bed playing on his phone?

“Hey, uh, so I usually just sleep in my underwear...but I can keep a shirt on if you want,” he says casually to you.

“Oh, uh, I mean, whatever you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable on my behalf, seeing how you’re doing me a favor,” you ramble out.

You wish you said no. As soon as it happens, you really wish you’d told him to keep on a shirt and a parka and snow pants and maybe also a ski mask. To say he is hot is the understatement of the century. His toned honey toned skin is smooth across his chest, taut over his muscles. His boxer briefs sit low on his hips, and your eyes follow the curve of his muscles from his stomach down past his waistline.

You watch the muscles on his back flex as he climbs into bed. You lay your head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is happening? you think to yourself. You try to blink the images of his nearly naked body out of your head, but they are there even as you eventually fall asleep.

*********

All day Friday you help set up for the wedding. Tae comes by and helps for a while, and, when it’s time for the bachelorette party, he says he’s going to go find something to do in town. The girls all go out, drink, and celebrate your best friend.

After the bachelorette party, you are feeling light and drunk and, for the first time in a while, you feel your shoulders relax. You say goodbye to the other girls in the lobby of the hotel and head to your room.

When you get there, there’s only one lamp on, and the room is empty besides your bags. You are painfully aware of the silky material of your dress against your skin, especially without a bra on. You feel so hyper-sensitive with the alcohol coursing through your veins. You skate your fingertips up your arms and across your collarbone. You feel yourself soaking your panties, and your nipples are hard against the silky material.

Your head isn’t totally clear, and you slide the straps of your dress off and let it pool on the floor around your feet. You stand in the middle of the floor in nothing but your panties and your heels for a moment, barely touching your skin on your neck and down your chest and belly.

You lie back on the bed, fuzzy head telling you to take care of it. You lick your fingers and take one of your nipples between your index finger and thumb. You feel your hips buck a little bit, feet, still in your heels, planting on the bed. With the way your feet are planted, your legs are open wide, and, if you weren’t wearing underwear, your pussy would be on full display. You bring your hand down to your panties. You run your fingers along the waistband before passing your hand over your covered folds, barely applying any pressure. You have decided to take it slow. You haven’t been with anyone since Yoongi, and you have been too busy to even consider masturbating. Now, you have the time, and you are soaking through your panties.

You close your eyes, and you see the way that Tae’s shirt fits across his chest, the way the rolled up sleeves accentuated his biceps, the way that his sweatpants yesterday left nothing to the imagination. You see the way his bare chest is broad and smooth, the way his underwear sit on his hips, bulge prevalent. You imagine the way he smelled when he’d pressed you into his chest. You want to drown in his smell.

You slide your hand into your underwear, drawing languid circles on your clit, sliding your finger through your arousal and back up to your clit. You feel like you are not in control of what your body is doing and small moans start to slip out of your mouth. You feel “Tae” come off your lips over and over.

“What?” you hear from near the door, but you think it might be coming from outside of the room and can’t process its proximity because the things you are doing are overwhelming you.

A whimper that turns into a yelp followed by “oh my god” comes from within the room, and your eyes snap open. Tae is standing at the end of the bed, eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place.

You scream and try to get up from the bed quickly, but you are drunk and wearing heels, and you lose your balance. Instead of getting away from him, you stumble toward him. He throws his arms out to catch you, steadying you as your mostly naked body presses against him. And you are mortified, but the scent of him makes your pussy clench. In that instance, you’re a little angry that you didn’t get to finish.

“Are you okay? How drunk are you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I just...we’re both in here. I didn’t know. That’s my bed, by the way. But that’s neither here nor there. Are you okay?” he rambles, trying not to look at you.

You pull away from him quickly covering your chest as you run over to the other side of the room to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. You throw the shirt over your head, and, as you try to put on the sweatpants, you realize you’re still wearing the goddamn heels. You throw them off as quickly as you can and pull the sweatpants on. When you look up from your panicked clothing debacle, Taehyung is looking anywhere but at you.

“Tae...I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m-I’m drunk, and I’m horny. I’ll go stay somewhere else.”

“Wait no…” Tae starts, but you are gone before he can even finish. You go to your best friend’s room, and she welcomes you in. When you tell her what happened, she laughs hard, pretty drunk herself. You agree to not talk about it any further.

*********

Besides avoiding Taehyung, the next day and half go by smoothly. You are busy setting up for the wedding. The hairstylist and makeup artist take care of you before the wedding, and your friend’s mom brings your dress and shoes to you. You haven’t had to go back to your room for anything, but you are dreading sitting next to Tae at the reception. The dread is briefly overshadowed by the love and pride that you have for your best friend and Hobi during the ceremony.

The ceremony goes off seamlessly, and you are so happy for your friends that you forget for a little while to be embarrassed. When it’s time for the reception, you realize that you have to enter with Tae for the processional. He meets you by the doors, looking pretty annoyed. He doesn’t say anything to you, and he just offers you his elbow when it’s time for you to enter the banquet hall. You walk in holding his arm, faking a smile, and take your seats at the table, followed by the remaining bridesmaids with their dates.

Throughout dinner, Tae continues to ignore you. You think to yourself if anyone should be avoiding anyone, it’s me avoiding him, but you don’t say anything to him. At one point he gets up to go to the bathroom, and you sit alone, pushing your food around your plate.

“Is this seat taken?” you hear from an all too familiar voice. You force yourself to look up into his eyes, and Yoongi is staring back down at your with a smirk on his face. You don’t have the words to respond, so you just stare at him for a moment.

A deep voice from behind you says, “yeah, actually it is,” and then you feel a hand on your shoulder. Oh, so now he wants to pay attention to me. His hand feels like it’s burning your skin, and you want to lean into it.

“Oh sorry, man. It didn’t seem like you guys were together,” Yoongi says, confused but still confident.

“Yeah, well, we are. Why don’t we go dance, y/n?” Tae hisses through his teeth.

“I’m kind of talking to Yoongi right now,” you say to him.

“Yeah, that’s all good, but I really like this song. So come dance with me,” he insists, pulling your wrist a little.

“Yeah...okay fine,” you mumble as you take your napkin out of your lap. Yoongi is looking at you dumbfounded, and you shrug and follow Tae to the dance floor. He pulls you in and presses his body fully against yours. Is this some kind of weird possessive shit?

“So you’re going to ignore me all night and then get pressed when Yoongi tries to talk to me?” you snap, annoyed.

“First of all, you left me alone in that hotel room for two days, so who’s really ignoring whom? Why can’t you, for once, just be a good girl and do what I say?”

You can’t deny that the expression “good girl” coming from his mouth does something to you, but you are already heated. “Oh, yes sir. I’ll be the goodest girl because you just dragged me over here and are being an ass, so I better be good for you. Fuck off,” you spit at him, rolling your eyes.

“Well, you told me how Yoongi broke your heart. And you weren’t gonna tell him to get lost, so I did you a favor. You should be thanking me,” he spits out.

“What’s your deal, Tae? It’s not like we’re actually dating or anything.”

You swear he growls in his chest a little bit, then he spins you before pulling you back into his body. “Well, maybe I want to be,” he mutters.

Before you have a chance to talk, the MC comes on and asks everyone to clear the floor for all the first dances, father dances, mother dances, second-cousin dances. It goes on for so long that you decide to return to the table, and Taehyung follows you. You sit down, fully prepared to demand an explanation from him when the photographer comes up to your table.

“Can I get a picture of you two?” she asks with a bright smile.

You can’t bring yourself to say no to her cheeriness, so you agree, doing your best to smile for the camera.

“You know what would be really cute?” the photographer starts, and you feel the dread building in your chest, “if you sat in his lap.”

Oh my gods, ugh. You are incredibly annoyed, but you know that this innocent woman doesn’t understand the very weird situation going on. So you, once again, reluctantly agree. You climb into Taehyung’s lap, and the energy immediately feels different. He clears his throat behind you and slides his arms around your waist. While the photographer tries to get a better angle (why is she taking so long!?), Taehyung starts to slide his hand down your thigh.

“I heard you,” he whispers to you, smile still stretched across his face. “I heard you say my name. You can’t act like you don’t want me. I heard you.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask defiantly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“You know what I’m talking about. You said my name. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I had such a big crush on you in high school, but you were oblivious. Now, you see me. Now, you want me. I heard you.”

As the photographer walks away, you don’t try to get up. You just shift a little in his lap. With the movement you can feel, very clearly, as if there was hardly any fabric between you at all, the outline of his cock, half-hard against your ass.

“Are...are you not wearing underwear, Tae?” you ask, feeling flustered, face hot.

“I tell you I heard you say my name while you were touching yourself on my bed. And you ask if I’m wearing underwear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me,” he professes with a smirk.

You look around frantically to make sure no one heard him, but your head snaps back to look at him when you feel his fingers teasing the hem of your dress against your thigh. You can feel the movement causing a rush between your thighs, and you can’t focus on anything except the way his hand feels on your skin.

“Tae…” you whisper, trailing off.

“Say it, y/n. Say you want me.”

“We can’t do this here, Tae. There are so many people here,” you say looking around at all of your friends, who you would be mortified if they found Tae with his hand in your dress.

“If you say that you want me right now, I’ll take you upstairs, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve to be fucked,” he whispers, letting his hot breath run over your ear.

Shit. Shit. Am I doing this? Fuck it.

“Tae, I want you...right now,” you practically moan.

With that, he’s up out of his seat, adjusting his pants. He ushers you out of the hall with his hand on the small of your back. You clamber into the elevator, and, when the door shuts, he is all over you. His mouth is on your ear and your neck, your collarbone and the curve of your shoulder, you chest and the upper swell of your breast. He’s kissing every exposed inch like he’s been poisoned and the only antidote is in your skin.

The elevator door opens on your floor, and the two of your practically run to your room. He slides the key card in and flings the door open. He kicks it closed behind you, and he takes off his tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He turns around to look at you, lacing his fingers in the hair on the back of your head down to the nape of your neck. He’s big eyes are peering into yours, searching your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a deep rasp.

“Tae, you’ve already kissed my whole chest. Yes,” you say back with a bite to your tone. You can’t help but want to contradict him and push his buttons.

He smashes his lips into yours, a deep, hungry kiss. All of his annoyance and frustration seems to come out with his kiss too. He nips your bottom lip and pulls it a bit before letting it going. He goes right back to you, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I don’t know,” you tease. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“How is ‘babygirl?’ Is that okay with you?” he asks looking into your eyes again.

“Babygirl is fine,” you reply, “but I’m not your good girl.”

He growls at you from his chest, scrunching his nose. You feel the tension in your stomach building and you know that your panties are useless at this point they are so soaked. He leans into you, reaching around your back, unzipping your dress. You shimmy it off your body, letting it pool on the floor around your feet, just like you had down two days before.

You runs his fingertips across your skin from your collarbones over your breasts, gently catching your nipples, down your stomach, across the waistband of your underwear. He bends his knees, setting one on the floor, and he keeps tracing his fingers down your thighs, over your knees, and around your ankles. He presses his mouth to your hip and your thigh while he caresses the inside of your legs up to your thigh and back down to your ankle. Then he pulls the strap off both of your ankles from your shoes and pulls them off your feet. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every touch from Tae’s fingers, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing with every move he makes.

While still on his knee, Tae looks up at you through his lashes. He asks in a commanding tone, “Babygirl, if you need me to stop you just say red, okay?” And you nod.

“Now, are you going to be good for me while I lick your pussy?”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest. “I don’t want to be good,” you sass, voice hoarse already.

His teeth bite down on the skin of the inside of your thigh. “Are you talking back to me, babygirl?”

You are too stunned to come up with anything clever, so you just nod.

He bites down again on your other thigh. “Use your words,” he commands.

You are so wet and so overwhelmed. He is too much for you already. “Yes, I was talking back to you,” you pant out.

He stands up from between your thighs, and you feel remiss that you let your brattiness get in the way of having him licking you. He whispers, “you’re being a bad girl.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, unable to stop yourself. His hand comes up to your chin and holds your head so you have to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” he demands. “You better start behaving, you little monster.”

For some reason, him calling you a little monster does something to you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on. “I’ll be good. I’m sorry.”

You lean to kiss him, and he catches your lips in another bruising kiss.

“Lie down on the bed and take your underwear off,” he says as he stands back from you, palming himself through his pants, seeking some relief.

Once you’re in position, he pushes your legs up, so your knees are bent. You are in the same position that you were just two days ago when he walked in on you. He whispers so pretty, then kisses gently on your clit and down your folds. He barely slides his tongue into your pussy, then drags it all the way up you, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

“So wet for me, babygirl.”

He takes his tongue and draws slow, steady circles on your clit while he brings his hand to your entrance and slides too fingers in. He immediately pushes them all the way in without letting you adjust, then he curls them upward. His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

You groan beneath him. He feels like he knows exactly what your body wants and needs. He is intuitive to your body, and your head is swimming. Your skin is burning, and your hips start to buck, even as he uses one hand to try to still you.

“Tae, I’m going to cum,” you gasp.

“No, you aren’t,” he says against your clit, “you’ll cum when I tell you to cum. And do you know why?”

You shake your head, back arching up off the mattress.

“This pussy is mine. Your orgasms belong to me, understood?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please, Tae…”

“Say it,” he commands for the second time tonight.

You moan as he continues his unforgiving ministrations with his fingers and his tongue. “Fine. This pussy is yours. My orgasms belong to you.”

“Good girl,” he whispers and pulls his fingers out of you and pulls his mouth away.

“No, no,” you whine at the lost of contact

“You better start being good, babygirl. You better start showing me that you deserve to cum.”

You really don’t mean to say it, but your bratty side comes out again. You look him in the eye and defiantly say, “Make me,” crossing your arms over your chest.

He leans over your body and picks you up, flipping you over easily. He commands you to get on your hands and knees.

“I’m going to punish you, babygirl. Do you remember the word to say if it’s too much?”

“I remember, yes.” You crawl onto your hands and knees and push your ass toward him, taunting him. You have your legs spread, and with the way you have put your head down on the mattress, your pussy is on full display for him. He can see how slick you are for him and because of him. You can feel how swollen your clit is, and all you want is for him to touch you again. Instead, he brings his hand down with a smack on your ass. You hiss from the sting, but you feel yourself growing wetter somehow. You moan and push your ass further back toward him. He lands four more spanks on the same cheek, and it stings as he rubs his hand over the spot. He presses his lips to the tender spot, and then he presses his lips against your wet pussy before pulling away.

You try to bite back the whine that is trying to escape your chest. You turn to look at Tae over your shoulder, and you should have just kept looking forward. His pupils are huge, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it. His lips are swollen, and his cheeks are pink. You let out a moan at the sight of him. Desperate to cum.

“Please, Tae. Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling like you might cry.

“Turn around, baby girl,” he says a little more gently than his last commands.

You turn around, and he steps up right in front of you as you sit on the end of the bed. He puts his fingers on your chin again and angles your head up to him. He presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, and then he grabs your hands and brings them to his belt. You can see the outline of his cock through his tight black pants. You have never wanted a cock more in your life than you want his right now.

You unbutton his pants, and the flesh of his dick is right inside the zipper. So he wasn’t wearing underwear. You push his pants down, and he steps the rest of the way out of them. He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it. You look up into his eyes to wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Lie down, babygirl,” he says, and you immediately obey.

His eyes flash with realization for a moment. “I don’t have a condom,” he says in panic, his breathing quickening.

“It’s fine. Are you clean? I’m fine. Birth control. Just fuck me raw,” you can’t think and words are tumbling past your lips.

“I am clean. You’re on birth control? You’re clean?” he asks, slightly more coherent than you are.

“Yes to both. Fuck me raw, Tae, please,” you beg. You feel desperate and crazy.

He pulls your hips to the end of the bed, still standing in front of you. He drags his cock through your arousal, getting his dick slick before he presses against your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, and you feel every millimeter of him exploring every millimeter of you. You let out a loud guttural moan as he continues to push all the way in. He brings his thumb to your clit and pushes messy circles there, and you clench around his dick.

“Fuck, babygirl, you can’t do that. I’m not gonna last long anyway,” he says as he draws himself slowly back out of you and pushes back in slowly.

“Tae…” you pant.

“I know, babygirl. You have to hold on though. Remember your orgasm is mine.”

He starts to thrust in and out of you more urgently. He’s panting, hair falling into his eyes. His breath is ragged as he continues to rub unforgiving circles on your clit. He pushes his hair back with his one free hand, and his tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth. You feel yourself careening toward the edge, and you don’t want to disappoint Tae but also can’t stop it. You pant out his name again.

“Cum for me baby girl,” he whispers as he bites your ear lobe, thrusts becoming erratic. You tumble over the edge, warmth filling your stomach as your pussy clenches around him, and your mind goes black as your eyes pinch shut and all of your muscles contract. You let out a low, loud moan, and Tae is crashing like a wave too. He cums hard and moans a long moan, filling you with cum and continuing to fuck it up into you. His hips only stop when you have regained your senses enough to open your eyes.

After he pulls out of you, he disappears for a second. He returns with a warm washcloth. He sets to work cleaning you and then himself. He takes the towel back to the bathroom, and then climbs into bed next to you. “What can I do to take care of you, babygirl?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I want to cuddle you, and maybe watch The Grinch,” you respond in a sleepy voice.

He gets you both under the covers, then pulls your body close to his. “I’ll try to find it, but we might have to watch something else,” he explains as he grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.

“Hey Tae?” you say after you settle on watching HGTV.

He hums in response and pulls his eyes from the screen to look at you. “Can we like...go on a date soon?” you ask, suddenly nervous even though you’re both naked, cuddled in a post sex cocoon.

“I want nothing more than that...and we probably should since your pussy is already mine anyway,” he smiles a huge smile and presses kisses to your temple, cheek, and jawline. You snuggle back in and eventually fall asleep wrapped in one another.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x y/n #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung: actual demon

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wangxiangiftexchange · 3 years

Text

Lunar New Year Gift for alightbuthappypen!

For @alightbuthappypen, I wish you a happy lunar new year, last year was a tough one for everyone around the world. We had to carry too many burdens besides the ones already on our shoulders, so I hope this cheers you up a litte. And if you are totally fine, then just enjoy it. I hope you like it, Im a bit shy to aproach and start conversation, but I tried to stick to the letter in your resquest.

*****

let me adjust my grip, don’t slip

When Lan Sizhui fell unexpectedly ill, it took less than a day for the Yilling Patriarch to arrive at the doors of Cloud Recess.

Lan Wangji suspected it had something to do with their mutual undead acquittance, but when Uncle asked with a suspicious tone, implying things that made his soul tremble with anger. He just fisted his hands behind his back and said “They have a bond; he has a place besides his bedside...”

He wanted, he really wanted to run to the infirmary to be with them. But his duties couldn’t be dismissed easily, in fact, he had several weeks of pending work with the sects that he already asked to be delegated. Yet, he still needed to hand over a list of priorities and names of the people assigned to them, and it was taking him too long already.

He tried to let that the methodical task of sealing scrolls with wax and metal distracted him from his convoluted feelings with the unexpected situation.

The night before while having dinner, the Junior had collapsed to the surprise of all. They took him to the infirmary right away, and not caring about appearances he followed. He spends a long night seated by the little table in the private suit where Lan Sizhui was being attended and probed and examined.

He knew that he had not the correct training to know, do or solve whatever it was happening to him, it fell into the proper and experienced hands of the doctors and healers of the sect. Nevertheless, he jumped lightly whenever they turned the boy in the bed, whenever the men made observations and humming noises, it was the need to run at his side, put his hand over his forehead.

Still, it became obvious very early in night that this was beyond of what he could do to help. By morning they still didn’t know what it was happening, but at least the junior hadn't worsened, and very painedly he had to separate and do his responsibilities.

By the time it was meal time, he was informed of the arrival of Wei Ying. But as he couldn't meet with them, he wondered if they knew something by now. If Wei Ying had come storming by the doors frantically asking to see the boy, walking in circles on his room, hand on his chin asking questions and answering himself while he unraveled the malady with the genius he only could possess.

Something about the idea made his chest ache with longlines.

It's been almost three months since his last visit. He knows, he counts the days with ease born out of experience.

One day since he last saw Wei Ying.

Two days since he lasts seen Wei Ying....

Three.....

One week....

One month....

One Year...

sixteen years...

Counting days was not healthy he knew. But he never could help himself. Some part of him is afraid that the count grows again. Days and days that ache with guilt, with lose...with love...

Three months it's not a very long time if compared with the long wait. But some days, the heavy loaded ones, the stressful ones, it does. It does hurt like it. He wished he could end those days walking to his private room and seem him, see his beautiful welcoming smile. To know he is there and would never go again.

Still, it's not something that can be solved. What right does he have to ask Wei Ying to stay here? Hes as free as he wants, as free as he always wanted.

He understands, he did travel the land too, he was not free exactly, he was running away, hiding his morose mourning and his inability to let go of the past from his family and peers. But he knows there is solace in the open skies of empty roads and peaceful farmed fields, fulfilling the promise they made, he failed him in many ways, but at least he gave himself to the task of fighting evil.

Mourning...Wei Yings needs it as much as he did.

He thought he could follow him, it was his plan as soon as he found him again at Dafan mountain, as he was sweep up his feet by his bright personality, his laughter, his brilliant mind once again. Being with him at all times. But....

But what right does he have to be free of responsibility?

After all, Lan Huan was tasked with their sect since he was born. But that didn’t mean he had to carry the load by himself. And yet, while he was roaming around, raising a kid. His brother never asked him do to his responsibilities if he was not up to them. His brother was sympathetic and caring, and worked and worked without help for years.

Now Lan Huan was suffering his own grief, his own mourning and his own count. But he knew that his was meant to last forever.

Staying here, being the acting sect leader, and being the chief cultivator really was the only retribution to his filial brother. He might harbor a great dislike to all of the sects and clans across the land for the wrongdoings committed to Wei Ying, to them both.

But he couldn’t just walk away while his brother was heartbroken and alone. Or can I?.... his mind thinks but he erases the thought and the doubts as fast as he can.

He can't ask Wei Ying to stay, and he can't follow him either. So, it was just another wait, probably not as endless as the first had felt, but something in him just wants it so desperately to end.

However, there still was something to confess, something kept deep on his chest for as long as he can remember. It probably is because during those years, this feeling just grew and grew until he could no longer remember a time when he didn’t feel like this.

It was like roots had taken over until they filled his chest and touched his soul. Tangling deep into his whole being.

He carried Wei Ying in his heart as one carries a lamp in the darkness. Sometimes warm, and sometimes ardently, but always the light he followed like a moth since he was young.

Where he to confess those feelings to him, would he feel compelled to return them even if Wei Ying does not feel the same? would he stay here with him the way he wants him?

Hes the type of person that sacricifies what he feels and what he wants for the people he cares about. No matter how undeserving of such sacrifice those people could be. Or more exactly how underserving Jiang Waying is. But he does not care to follow that line of thinking because it is against the rules to think so poorly of another sect Leader.

He should feel ashamed to think himself so important in Wei Ying’s life, but it wouldn’t be enough for him to feel obligated to accept something as deviant as being an open cut sleeve just because he cares about Wangji, and it wouldn’t be right. He wants him to sincerely return his feelings, but who would accept such disgrace.

If he feels he owns him something for helping him solve Meng Yaos plot, he’ll never ask for anything. Wei Ying should stop feeling guilty, especially about this because firstly, it was the right thing to do, and second because everything he did was because he wanted.

He wanted to absolve Wei Ying’s reputations, because he wanted him to stop feeling guilty for things that happened so many years ago and weren't even his fault to begin with.

Even before knowing the whole truth, he suspected for years that something or someone had played a hidden evil hand. He spends years questioning his own memories, questioning what everyone accepted as facts and truths, because his heart told him, it always told him that Wei Ying was not the evil person they invented in their twisted minds.

It was then that he noticed that this was the last scroll he needed to prepare to send, so he put out the heating lamp and put aside his official seal, he didn’t stop to clean it as it was his routine and just put it on his sleeve pocket on his haste to reunite with his family.

He didn’t run, but he speed walked on the empty corridors until he arrived. Once he opened the door, he was greeted with a sight that made his heart ache.

Many years ago, when Sizhui was still a child, a fragile little thing that clung to his robes. He would catch colds in the winter. He was from warmer lands, and even if he never was raised on them, something in him always made him unprepared for long chilly winters. It was true even after he stopped being underfeed and was getting round rosy cheeks.

He would lay in bed, while Wangji spend the night rubbing his back with medicinal herbs and would sing him lullabies. It would be just the two of them by the candle lights, with warm coils burning on the stove. It would get warmer and warmer, but he still felt a cold inside his chest and ribcage, creeping up and down his scarred back, an empty heartbeat, the pang of lost.

Something would whisper on his ear Wei Ying’s name, and how needed he was. How he missed him. He wanted to say to him. What I am doing? Why I am doing this without you? What I am doing with your child?

He would imagine a life where Wei Ying was with them, so close to the image that greet him now, that he felt like that dream was finally true.

Wei Ying was on the floor, lightly petting Sizhui hair and whispering sweet things.

He noticed him then, and the spell broke, and the mirage that mixed reality and hopes fell apart. Wei Ying smiled tiredly and raised from his place to invite him to sit with him by the table.

“How is he doing?”

“It's not getting worse....”

“Do they know something now?”

“They do...” he sighed. “It's a curse. I already questioned Lan Jingyi about it. But he just told me he had no idea, he said nothing was amiss, nothing had gone wrong on their last night hunt. He noticed nothing weird.”

“He wouldn’t...” he sighed.

“Hes not very observant, I agree, that why I drilled him with questions, even force him to tell me an hourly account of their trip, and there was something”

He nodded expectingly.

“Some strange looking lady tried to sell them flowers by the road. When they didn’t, she became erratic and tried to.... offer them a different...kind of flower....”

He frowned.

Wei Ying laughed. “Yeah, she offered to sleep with them for a piece of silver. When they said no, she tried to hug them, Jingyi pushed her off of course, but Sizhui being as kind as he is, tried to help her go to the next town, but she pushed him, screamed and ran to the woods. They thought she was just a very poor crazy woman and brush it off....”

“Thats not unusual”

“It is not unusual although very sad, but it’s the only thing that came to my attention...everything else was as they said, just a normal night hunt.”

“What kind of curse”

“The slow one at least, it's obvious he was pinched with a needle on the neck, its going down...” he said looking at the table. “We have a lead now, it's better than nothing”

“umm” he agreed.

“We should depart at the earliest”

“Why not tonight?”

Wei Ying smiled sadly. “He was....he was asking for his dad....”

Wangji’s hands clenched and all the air in his lungs was pushed out and let him breathless

“You really are his father....” he said.

“He called me that when he was little until Uncle stopped him. I let him do it when were alone....”

“I was a little hurt Hanguan-Jun. You stole my child....” He sounded truly sad.

“He’s....he’s yours too”

“But he was asking for you...his father”

“Because.....you are his mother”

That made Wei Ying laughs and wipe the sadness out of his eyes.

“So shameless!” he keeps laughing. “waiting all these years to deliver such a punch line Hanguan Jun. Your sense of humor is twisted and no one would think it of his excellency”

He could feel his lips pushing to fight the smile carried by his laughter

“I suppose I dig my own grave with that one Lan Zhan” he keeps with a light teasing smile. “But I did say I was...And I want to spend the night here if you don’t mind”

“I don’t, Theres blankets on the trunk”

He stood up to retrieve them and put them on the floor by the bed. He put another set besides the one already on the floor.

“What?, is his excellency spending the night on the floor”

“umm” he nodded.

“But Lan Zhan, the floor is uncomfortable, you should go to your bed”

“I'm not” he simply said to avoid the argument.

Wei Yings shoulders dropped in defeat and only prepare himself to sleep by striping of his outer layer. He gave him privacy by turning his back and doing the same before laying side by side on the floor.

“He looks peaceful, they gave him tea to sooth him and ease the symptoms.”

He looked at the youth and Wei Ying smiled sadly.

“He still looks so young even if he is becoming a man in everyone's eyes. But early today he looked as when he was little and was so tired, he got crackly before his nap. I could tell he wanted to stick his fingers on his mouth”

He smiled gently. “It was hard to break him out of that habit”

“I can imagine. Were you harsh on him?”

Wangji frowned and said “no”

“Well, I was a little bit, I was not in the best place, and sometimes I was so tired, and so angry with the world. And he was just a child, he didn’t know better, he was lonely and wanted to play. I regret snaping at him”

“He missed you too”

“I Thought he didn’t remember much”

“He doesn't now. But the first days he would ask for you in his feverish state, Lan Huan sleep with him but he cried until he was allowed to stay with me”

“Such a little manipulator he was”

“It was because he didn’t recognize this place, or those people”

“Yeah, I bet he was sad”

“Um” he nodded. “Didn't ask only for you, he wanted all his family back”

“I'm really sorry he had to experience that, I could have done more, or the right thing...I keep thinking what could I have done different”

“Pointless, can't change the past”

“I know, but I can't forget, is a burden I must carry if nothing else. It was a mistake; I shall live with the regret”

“Stop blaming yourself, what does that accomplish?”

“Aiyooo” he said. “I know you are right, but I can't help myself, I can't just forget you know, and when you remember something, you always get to wonder what if....”

“Then find solace in the fact, that he survived, and he was cared for, looked after”

“I do that too. I'm so grateful you took him in, he couldn’t have ended in better hands, he was seriously lucky, you didn’t just give him a chance, you gave him a whole new better life, he wouldn't have ended such a fine gentleman with me and with his family even if they had survived”

“Would have offered him an education in Gusu Lan anyway”

Wei Ying smiled softly. “I'm sure you would have, the way you looked at him that day in Yilling. I know the look of a mother hen when I see one. You wanted to gift him the world, feed him until he got fat, and teach him manners, am glad you still got to do it in the end”

“And yet...I couldn't even save Wei Ying, the person he needed the most”

“Lan Zhaaaan, stop, stop!. Alright, we already said Theres no point in regret, I won't do it, if you don’t either. In fact, we already made a pact about it, no more regrets. That was then, but this is now. We have to solve this, I'm here now, I can't lose him, this is entirely different..., he’s...he’s ours”

“Ours...” he said in affirmation.

“It's almost nine, we should sleep, we have a long way tomorrow. We have to find this mysterious crazy hugger in the woods.”

“Um” he nodded and closed his eyes.

It took just a few moments for his routine and his command to take over his body, but while he waited. He relished in the fact, that the room was warm, that he could hear two sets of breathings in rhythm. The room was lived in. No more emptiness. No more cold.

+2+

Lan Wangji woke up before first call. Lately, he found himself awake before he was due. It might be the stress of the job; he did have too many responsibilities that took his days away and didn’t allow his mind to rest at night. Much less the pleasure of meditation.

It might also be an age thing. He heard from uncle that it happened to him too around this age. It was a strange notion that the mind, still felt the passage of time even if his cultivation didn’t allow his body to age in a normal rate.

He looked young; his strength still was that of a young man. And yet, time did come to pass. Sizhui was the more affected by it. There where once lay a baby, now was an adolescent. But when he looked at Wei Ying peaceful sleeping, he still saw the young man he was when he died...

At first it was shock to see him as if not a single day had passed. But it had, Wangji himself didn’t look more than twenty-nine. Even if he was already thirty-five. But Wei Ying looked so young still.

But he couldn't be considered naïve, he saw too much, suffered too much to be a child. He was just barely older than Sizhui, but he lived a whole life time over. As they sleep like this, they looked like two young brothers, so precious and innocent wrapped by their dreams.

He felt old, tired and alone inside way before he meet Wei Ying at seventeen. But as soon as he stormed into his life, Wei Ying provoked the child on his soul. How much he wanted to be free, playful. He wanted to chase him, to joke and laugh. Run as fast as he wanted, rules be dammed.

He didn’t get to do that at the end of those days. But he did run behind his memories, after his retreating back on his own dreams, chasing him and never being able to hear him or touch him. Oh how much he missed him. How much he wished he had the courage to do all he wanted before it was too late.

And now that he was back, he still couldn’t be with him, because he couldn't chase him anymore. How unfair it was. To have waited so long and still don't have what he wanted. Even it was the facsimile of just being in his company.

He should have been a child when he could, because now he was a true man and responsibilities couldn’t be thrown away, he can't justify in younthness his actions or his wants. If he had chance with him, I would have been years away, he could have a stolen a kiss and pass it off as ignorant imprudence and improperty, he might have been forgiven. Be excused with it, and say he didn’t know better.

Wei Ying might have even returned it then.

But now he does. He does know better and how inappropriate it is.

But he wants....he wants so much.

As he sees Wei Ying sleeping. His whole soul plays a different tune. Lust tights his fist around him, and he burns ardently with desire.

Every time, every single time Wei Yings calls him “Lan-er-gege". He’s no listening the innocent way a young man calls an elder. Oh no. All he hears is the tilt a shameless woman uses to seduce a man.

The way it sounds as a beckoning call to her bedchamber. And he knows Wei Ying is only teasing, only playing with him.

He never stopped trying to make him play with him. But how can he answer in jester, when these things provoke the man in him? He should be ashamed, and he is.

But he can't help himself. He drinks the image of rosy lips, soft skin and messy black hair. His long beautiful eyelashes. Even if he is a proper man, he still looks delicate, soft in young masculinity.

He wants to destroy the person lucky enough to have him, even if it is a woman or man. Even if is only just an idea. Because he knows there's no such person lurking on his life. Or maybe he just doesn't want to think there is. Wei Ying hasn’t spoken of anyone new on his letters.

Wei Yings writes him about people yes, but as always is in a disinterest rude manner, sometimes he can't even remember the name of the people he just meet. No one has cached his attention.

He really doesn't want to see it happen. Same as the day Lan Sizhui began noticing women and he felt pride and fear in equal measures. Pride, because he was so gentle, and one day he would be happy knowing love. And afraid because he was already mourning his child. The innocent chubby baby he wrapped on blankets and allowed to sleep on his shoulder.

However, he can't decide what is the appropriated feeling regarding Wei Ying and the concept that one day, he might be with someone he wants. It hurts to think about it. To imagine him so happy and in love.

And it makes him angry to feel this way, what claim does he have? -- none, and truly Wei Ying deserves all the happiness he can get on his second chance. He suffered and sacrificed enough; he deserves everything.

Wangji let his chance go, and he has to suffer those consequences.

Wei Ying is far away and so close. Hes right here just a foot apart. If he extends his hand, he can touch, and he is tempted. His fingers ache with the desire to feel his warm presence. Instead, he coils his fist tightly.

+3+

When he comes back with a light breakfast, Wei Ying is already on his feet, already scribbling away in parchment an assortment of talismans.

“I may need them” he says as an explanation while he finishes with the ink and hastily moves the paper away to make room. “Lan Zhan....” he says and Wangji looks up from the plates. But he is pointing to the bed, where Sizhui is awake with half lidden eyes.

He goes to him and puts a hand over his forehead. He’s warm with a light fever.

“How are you feeling?” he still asks.

Sizhui moans.

“That good uh?” jokingly answers Wei Ying while he sits on the bed.

“A- diē” he moans. But his eyes aren't fixed on one of them, they go from one to the other, making unclear to whom he calls.

“We are here A-Yuan" says Wei Ying. “Here, Lan Zhan got you sweet soup, you still like it right?”

He can feel the tiny smile taking over his lips.

“Bába.... a- diē....” says Sizhui raising his hand shakily, Wangji takes it.

“yes...” says Wangji. “Bába wants to give you soup, be a good child”

A-Yuan nods feverish, Wei Yings eyes are shinning like the ponds in Yummeng, but he gathers the strength to feed A-Yuan the soup and the tea before the boy falls sleep again.

“I hope he doesn't get upset if he doesn't find us the next time he wakes”

“I’ll made sure his cousin is here to keep his company”

“We better hurry with this task then, it pains me to depart”

They rushed with their breakfast even if it is against the rules, but it's just the two of them and really, that is one unrealistic rule. Life can get so fast at times, that chewing trughly can wait for more placid times.

By noon they have covered several li of distance, he can see Wei Ying has regained much needed strength in the last months. But by meal time, they decide to make a quick stop at an Inn to eat.

“Oh no, I'm just power walking” says Wei Ying when he tells him what he thinks. “I gained a little weight, but I'm not near as strong as before. I don’t think I’ll ever will, especially since I'm relaying in talismans rathe that demonic cultivation. But the pshyquical weakness is here to stay, I'm just a normal guy, takes me ages to reach my destinations”

“It will do no good if Wei Ying tires excessively then” he says. “I should acquire horses”

“Well, it will be even faster, and as ashamed as it makes me feel, it would be helpful"

“Theres no shame in admitting weakness”

“But I don’t want to become a burden for anyone”

“Wei Ying is no burden”

“So, you say, but you have to admit it makes things awkward with the sects, having me around and bothering such a stemmed cultivator like yourself”

“They are the ones who should be ashamed of being burdens, because they are...all the time”

Wei Ying laughs deep. “Such a burden Lan Zhan, I can't even...; some of those men can even wipe their asses without assistance”

“It's been very troublesome, but I can't just....”

“I know” cuts Wei Ying with a tired smile. “They do need you....”

“I rather be traveling.... like this...with you” he says lowering his eyes because he can't stop the furious beating of his heart.

Wei Ying laughs awkwardly. “It doesn’t think you’ll like it, I'm sure you would be bored by me pretty soon”

“I really can't imagine that....”

“Of course, no, with men like clan leader Yao and Ouyang lowering the intelligence of a room”

“So, you do know it happens the opposite when you are in it?” He sneaks a glance and Wei Ying is fumbling with his cup and blushing.

“I suppose, if you put it like that, then yes, yes of course I am better company”

“Then your presence can't be called a burden”

“Lan Zhan, politics make you very....” he fishes for a word, but keeps opening and closing his mouth. “Flirty...”

As soon as he says it, Lan Zhan feels the warmth creeping up and up, until he also knows he has blushed. But also, the victory of it. Feeling like he did something right, like he won, he feels satisfaction. He feels accomplishment. But like an addict, his body craves the attention with powerful intention, like a possession of the mind. He wants more of it.

“You are being very talkative now”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Couldn't stop them from arguing unless I found witty responses to shup them up”

“But you had always being witty with your remarks. It something else, you aren't minding your words.”

He thinks about it, and its true on some level. Being acting sect Leader, and Chief cultivator, has forced him to talk more than he is comfortable, it's not on his nature, but things weren't get done, and frosty commands and final decisions made the sect leaders feel like he was becoming an evil overlord, they hadn't felt threatened by Meng Yao at all. Not even once even if he was a true devil mal.

Nie Huaisang had given him an unsolicited advice, but that it turned out it really was helpful.

He would never be like his brother, who had a sweet and kind disposition. But it turned out that if he explained things more and engaged in conversation more, the sect leaders had a very different disposition.

But he was by no means, a flirty leader. It was just Wei Ying.

It was like a broken dam, and words and feelings were leaking tru the cracks. He needed to...express this warm thing on his chest, it wanted to get out.

“Just with you” he clarified once again, not controlling himself or his feelings.

“Whatever it is. I can't say I'm displeased.” He smiles. “You are witty and intelligent and funny! I would love to see you in session”

“You should come”

“I don't think the leaders would appreciate it like you do, would make them angry. And It would make me angry if they say something stupid”

“You still should come. Things are getting settled, and they could see you are in no way a treat, and you know I would never...turn my back on you”

“I know you wouldn't, you haven't done it since I returned, I'm not even sure if you ever did, even in the past. Maybe I was too stupid to see it, but you have always been on my side, and it makes me happier than I can describe. For that reason, I can't cause trouble to you...”

“Theres no trou...”

“Let's get going Lan Zhan, we have yet a long road ahead”

It feels like punch to the gut, disappointment grips him hard. He lowers his eyes and nods.

They do acquire horses. And as soon as they hit the road outside of town, Wei Ying speeds the horse freely. He can see his satisfied smile when he shouts.

“This is an upgrade of that stupid lovely donkey!!”

Wei Ying knows how to ride with elegance and with power, he is good at it, like he is good in a lot of other gentlemanly arts. And it is a beautiful visage, seeing him riding into the sunset.

But as beautiful as he is, it still feels like Wangji is running behind his back, like he’s always dragging his feet in a race. Following at close heals, but never enough. Fingers brushing mere seconds before his hands slips and he falls, until he is lost forever.

Slow down Wei Ying.

Please slow down...he wants to say.

Let me catch up, let me adjust my grip, don’t slip.

+4+

They arrive to their destination by night fall, in the morning they’ll have to ride a few li more before reaching the forest, but it doesn't make sense to keep going, whatever the woman in the woods is hiding. They wouldn’t find her at night. The forest has too many foliage, and there's lots of places a soul can hide during the night.

But the Inn in town is overcrowded and they only have a room for both of them. It's no trouble really, they have camped and sleep in shared rooms before.

Only it is a problem now, because Wangji has been feeling.....

He’s been feeling like his heart wants to come out of his chest. Like it wants to jump out of his ribcage. Like he can't breath a second longer, the feeling beats wildly out of his cage of control.

And it hurts, it hurts so much, because he wants, he wants so much.

So close and so far, away, and his shoulders feel heavy loaded with despair. He just wants to hug him, feel him alive, touch his warmth with the tips of his fingers. But he knows it won't be just that.

It stopped being enough seeing him from afar. But It would never be enough, if he touches him, he would crave it, he would desire. He wouldn’t be able to control it.

He thought he could control those feelings, because it became obvious why he couldn’t be with him. Why he couldn’t force this feeling on him.

He promised himself that as long as Wei Ying was alive and happy or content. As long as he was in no danger. He was happy and content too.

But it is a lie.

And the pain, the sorrow, the despair feels as big as mourning his death once felt, maybe even worse, because he’s right there with a brilliant smile.

He feels like he is falling, but the wrong way, the desperation, the frustration. Those kinds of feelings are the kind that make a good man turn bad.

He’s shaking with it, and he is ready to renounce everything, just for the chance to have him. Ready to let the sects destroy themselves. Sick and tired of their petty disputes. He feels compelled to even renounce his family, abandon his brother in time of need, just for a chance to be with Wei Ying.

But he is better than this. Wei Ying wouldn't even want him is he ever did such a traitorous thing. They promised to be good, to do justice and good deeds to the world.

And yet....he is angry.

Why does destiny take this from him?

This only thing he wants and needs, and it's not even the flesh sexual act what he wants. He has no desire to force him, it's not his desire to be with him skin against skin.

Although it is too.

But he wants so much more than just that. He’s burning with the desire to be with him when he goes to bed, when he wakes up in the morning, he wants to be there when he laughs, when he gets melancholic about the past. He wants to be the guardian of his dreams, and the protector during his nightmare's.

He just wants to be there for all of it for the rest of his life.

And then so more in the next and the next, and the next. Because it pains him to imagine another lifetime so far away from his very soulmate.

Red string and knot around his core, soul, and heart.

It's unfair.

+++5+++

By dinner time, his fingers felt cold, his chest hollow, empty, throbbing with each breath.

“Hanguan-Juan, why are you so upset, Sizhui will be fine”

“um” he nods and drinks from his cup of tea.

“Ayooo!” he says “Who killed your rabbits?”

“No one, they are safe back....home” he struggles with the last word.

Can it still be called a home? Empty rooms and empty bed? It was not one when a little child cried at night. He can't decide if the ghostly echoes of the cries are his or A-Yuan's. But Gusu Lan sometimes feels like the broken abandoned nest a family of birds left behind.

“I think you are being over worked” he says casually. “Or something big is on your mind”

“There is...” he says. “I might just say it now....”. Because really, some part of the pain is not knowing if there is chance.

“Alright, whatever it is, I'll help you, because you should know I got your back too”

“We should be cultivation partners”

Wei Ying looks surprised for a moment, he wasn't expecting that, but then he begin laughing

“See!, you are funny!”

“I'm not joking”

“Of course, you are, are I expected to believe that you, his revered Chief Cultivator wants to...to...cultivate with the likes of me?”

“Yes”

Wei Ying scoffs “If it is a joke, I must ask you to stop, you damn well know I can't cultivate”

“It is not, Wei Ying....I....I....”

His eyes go soft. “I see... I didn't want to say anything about that, but I recon this can't go on any longer. I'm not as clueless as everyone thinks me to be”

“I know you aren't. I know you sometimes walk faster”

Wei Ying bites his lips and he goes serious. Hes talking with the Yilling Patriarch and that scares him. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. He might have ruined this friendship.

“You do know that being with me is an act of selfishness I can't allow? The cultivation worlds need you. And I can tell it would be very disappointed if you did something like this. I know you want to help me recover by cultivating, but It won't even work, why bother?”

“If I can't be allowed to be with my soul mate even if the cultivating doesn’t work, then what is the point of cultivating? What is the point of this whole lifetime? What is the point of leading the cultivating sects? “

Wei Ying snorts. “Such a romantic you are”

Wangji didn’t know if he should be offended.

“It's too much trouble even if your intentions are good. Gusu Lan won't just open his arms to me, your brother and uncle...”

“I'm acting sect leader. Xichen is not coming out of seclusion, and I expect it will take him a long time, as for my uncle. He might be disappointed, but not entirely surprised. He asks about your whereabouts often”

“Yeah, because he wants to know when the devil it's in theirs mist”

“Because he knows I care. He may never trust you, but he knows I do. And sometimes, you have to make do with the situation”

“And what about the other sect leaders”

Wangji frowned. “Smaller sects will cave to the bigger ones and their opinions can and are influenced easily. The bigger ones. One is your nephew, whom I know you spend considerable time with, and the other is your brother, you are avoiding him, but I can tell he just acting angrier because he wants you to contact him”

“Thats Jiang Cheng for you, but how have you gained this understanding of him?”

“Is it really that difficult to understand a man that expresses everything with anger?”

“I suppose not that difficult, or different to understand as yourself, a man that expresses everything with a calm stoic face, here we are after all, expressing our feelings in such a matter, I should be offended, you should be more romantic than this”

“Does Wei Ying want to know about what I feel when I see him? about my racing heart, about how much happiness it brings me? about how much I missed him for years and years?”

Wei Ying blushed. “No, no, stop, I thought I could take it, but I don’t"

“um” he nodded and felt the disappointment.

“You miss understand. I... feel very deeply for you too, but this not about what we feel for each other. I do know. I knew that night before the temple. And I though....”

Wangji closed his eyes.

“But the world.....”

“I know”

“I did so much wrong”

“You didn’t.... everyone makes mistakes, but they weren't born out of evil intentions. They weren't plotted and malicious, they never were, and the world knows this”

“They know, but they aren't going to stop being hypocrites and judgmental. How are you going to maintain such an important position, with me hanging from your arm?”

“Then I don’t care anymore.”

“What about our son?”

“He can remain with my uncle. But I gladly would quit and travel the lands. It is our promise to each other. How many years have to pass, before we fulfil it?, How many years are we supposed to wait? I can't...not anymore. Wei Ying is my soulmate”

Wei Ying sighed. “I thought this was going to end sooner too. Less than a year, but they are so clueless, like a pack of children, making and making the same mistakes”

“Then we have to solve it in other ways. We might never agree with the current leaders Wei Ying. But you are an excellent teacher, and you have been taking unofficial hunting trips with the boys of every clan. And the leaders constantly bring this fact to my attention. I think that if you officially joined Gusu Lan Clan, this wouldn’t be a worrying matter anymore, you would have expressed permission to do it”

“And how do I join Gusu Lan?”

“Marry me...”

Wei Ying looks surprised. “you mean...besides cultivating together you want to....not as...platonic soul mates...”

“As husbands”

“With kissing and everything?”

“Everything....”

“Bed sharing?”

“Everything”

“Clan allowance?!”

“Everything”

“Fucking?”

“Yes”

“Oh....”

His heart beat faster and faster and he’s getting light headed, it was not an answer yet.

“Can't say I expected that...you hide it very well...”

“umm” he hums' disappointed.

“So, I wonder if you are as passionate with this in action, as you are with everything else. You are a man of actions, not words...”

He looks into his eyes. They are shinning with mirth.

“Wei Ying might like to find out”

“He might indeed...” he smiled fully. “But seriously are you really sure you want us to be....so publicly together?”

“I'm not ashamed of what I desire, I want Wei Ying as my husband and Sizhui as our son”

“You are being very shameless” he smiled softly. “And... I'm happy. Glad. I do want to be with you, but I need to know you are completely sure you want this”

“I do, with all my passion, with all my hopes for the future. I never wanted to be chief cultivator in the first place. I did it because it seemed the right thing to do. But I can't go on without you anymore, its drowning me, it's killing me, I'm tired and alone, and I can't be apart from you a single day more. They either accept what you mean to me, or they can destroy themselves however they see fit”

“You are so sure...and I....”

“I understand....you want pace, you don’t want to go back to those clowns and jesters”

“I just don’t want to cause more trouble, it frightens me, politics....people's opinions, it has scarred me, it was so horrible last time, I did everything wrong, didn’t save the people I loved, I'm so afraid of failing you”

“Take your time thinking about it. I too need to know Wei Ying is sure to accept me and my responsibilities.”

“Thats a bit unfair. Makes me look like the bad guy. If I don’t go back to Gusu with you, you want to quit your job, how can I steal you all to myself, you know that doesn't settle with me, and this fear I feel.....”

“I don’t need a big position to keep our promise. And I do want to settle with you. We gave them too much before. And I know now what I might lose....I don’t want to lose you ever again....”

They both submerged into a contemplative state, only interrupted by the noise of the overcrowded Inn. When it was time to retire. Wei Ying made a big fuzz about the bed. But then again, he always did.

This time tho, it was different. A soon as the candle was blown. Wei Ying moved close enough to touch. Close enough to be held in his arms.

It felt so right, Wangji couldn't think of ever sleeping apart from him again. He was older now, so he knew that often, what people said it was wrong, it wasn’t actually. It was just misunderstood. And what people thought to be harmless, it often was.

He was not a youngster easily swayed into believing a set of hard rules and supposed truths.

People would always talk, they would whisper, they would plot. But being with this man, no matter what they tough or said. It was not wrong.

What felt wrong was to keep them apart.

If a good man can be driven into perdition, he thought this was his edge cliff.

And he’s sure to jump.

++6++++

Next morning, before sunset, they departed from the Inn in search of the hugger of the woods.

“Let's go this way, there's a stream nearby. And I believe a starved woman would set camp near it, it’s a very plentiful place, been there fishing too”

“umm”

“Hanguan-Jun, please don’t be disappointed if I can't be so sure to answer your kind attentions”

“I'm not. It is a serious matter”

“Of course, and there's also that our son is in pain”

“Must hurry”

“I'm serious, It's not that I don’t want.....its just....I feel fear, I feel so tired too, some days I feel like I can't love anymore. I feel that if I lose a single person on my life, it would break me again, everything would be dark”

“I'm here for you”

“And sometimes I wished you weren't....it's painful to think about, but the fear I have of losing you sometimes keeps me awake at night. Sometimes I dream my sister, and sometimes I dream it's you whose death I provoke. I...I feel so empty without you, but I keep thinking that I can't do this. I can't do it anymore”

Wangji stopped walking and felt his heart shattering.

He knew like an abstract concept that Wei Ying had lost so much, and that his pains and ghost would always be with him. But hearing him say these things, made him feel like he failed him. Like he was not enough to protect him. Like once again he couldn’t do a single thing to stop him.

Maybe he shouldn’t.

When they were younger, he tried and tried to stop him from suffering and that made him go away.

But then, what was he supposed to do?

“Lan Zhan...” he begins. But stops abruptly.

From the foliage, a needle sails the air. Wei Ying’s talisman stops it. A furious scream is heard and in just a matter of seconds, Wangji takes his sword and takes a stance.

The woman comes out of the shadows. Shes as described, a shabby dirty woman with crazed gaze.

“Why are you attacking people?!!” screams Wei Ying full of anger, Chenqing on his hands.

“Not people, just you!” she rages and storms in his direction.

No time to think about it. Wangji sways his sword to stop her. The woman to his surprise, takes a sword out of a shahs on her back just in time to stop him from cutting her in half.

They dance around, taking blows and stopping deathly hits. Shes no joking around, she truly wants to kill them, no explanation.

“WHY?” screams Wei Ying throwing more talismans than what Wangji can track, but she is so much experienced than expected.

She is definitely a cultivator, but her face is not one he remembers

“Who in this land does not want to kill you, Wei Wuxian?, haven't you killed enough people to warrant a revenge?”

“Too many to count!”, he says angered. “But I'm asking why did you attack my son?”

“Lan Wangji son!” she screams and, in her rage, she nicks him on the face. He frowns and looks at her feet.

He’s seen that before.

As soon as he thinks he seen it before, he knows where he’s seen it before. DeJa'Vu.

“This are Gusu Lan techniques, badly done.”

“Shup up!” she screams. “Bastard, fucking bastard, you got the gall to tell me that to my face”

Wei Ying stops long enough to examine her, then he throws into the battle again, dancing in the way the Yummeng Jiang Sect does when in defensive attack, but he does not carry a sword with him anymore. And just dances around, his back glued to his, as the woman desperately moves in look of an opening.

But with Wei Ying guarding his back, they both moving in tandem to the sound of an erratic dark melody. The restless souls in the woods come, ghostly lights in the shape of screaming faces.

No human voice's, empty expression forever etched in agony. Their voices are the cruel screams of the ghost flute.

She keeps the pace, never underestimate the power of anger and the thirst of revenge. And of course, never understimate a Gusu technique even when badly performed. But in the end, she slows down her attacks.

Shes starved, she's tired.

“Why do you want this revenge?!” grunts Wei Ying with the effort.

“Because I swearer to kill you both, that child too, if I could, and the opportunity presented itself”

“What did we do?!”

She roars and moves quicker in one more powerful blow. Shes erratic and she stumbles and yet, she still grazes him in the arm and then very nearly gives Wei Ying a poke. But because he thinks Wei Ying has too many scars. He moves lighting fast and shoves her out.

She falls to the ground with a hard hit. She bleeds from the deep wound he gave her on the shoulder. She hisses.

“Enough is enough” says Wei Ying. “I’ll give you one chace to break my sons curse. Or I'll kill you”

“I won't do it!” she grunts.”

“I'm just fine with it. Some people a better off this world”

“Why couldn’t you stay dead?”

“I don’t know what business I have with you, so you shouldn’t care about mine”

“Underserving bag of dirt” she spats. “You!..... you two!,..you killed my husband”

They both understand then.

“Who?” asks Wei Ying.

Ok, maybe just Wangji understands, but he can't blame him.

“Su she...” he says ending the mystery.

“Who?, ah?!, wait....that guy was married? and to a formidable cultivator?”

She begins laughing. “You ended my life. He was my world. We were very happy”

“He took wrong choices and bad turns” Wangji says. “He was a lying traitor”

Her laughter turns into crying. “Yes....but I loved him”

“You can still turn around, it's not late, whatever he might have done, your life should be spared. You can love again if you wish”

“As if...” she says looking at Wangji. “As if one can have more than a soul mate on one lifetime, you should know Lan Wangji”

He does. It is sometimes impossible. It's so rare to find even one. He can't imagine ever finding another soulmate. Not in the way Wei Ying is to him. He has never doubted that their fates are tied by romantic love from another lifetimes.

A tie so strong can only mean a wife or a husband. Otherwise, his lust is not necessary. Fate could have them as friends, as brothers, as any other thing. But he was born into a cut sleeve to make it work.

“Then its better if you go meet him soon” he says. Because he honestly thinks it's a mercy.

When Wen Ying was lost to him, he considered the possibility of just going after him. Another chance in another place, in another timeline.

He did not, because of their child. Said child was sick and hurting. And that made him pause. If he had given up, he might miss Wei Ying’s return.

“Do you have a keepsake of him?”

“No” she closes her eyes. “We couldn’t....”

“Then why did you hold on? if you don’t have...hope” he asks.

“Revenge is a hope” she says with frown. “Because I promised him at his grave”

“Thats bad...” Wei Ying says. “No matter what he did, he took some Karma he would have to repair later. And if you do more damage, you’ll lose your chance to meet him again, too busy repairing your own wrong doings”

“I don’t care anymore”

Wei Ying sighed. “Then....we.”

She scoffed. “Fuck you....I hate you so much, but the mere thought of ever seeing you again even if I don't know it's you, it's disgusting. I don't want to ever cross fates with you, I’ll let the boy live, but you better kill me, I'm done”

“I don’t want to do you wrong either” said Wei Ying slumping his shoulders.

“Coward” she said. She removed a wooded box out of her sleeve and the putrid remains of a heart were inside filled with needles and ribbons. She untied them all. “He should get better...” she sighed. “You are a such bastards, and I hope one day, you feel this pain again”

She took a dagger out and ended herself. The splatter covered the ground. Wei Ying flinched and looked away as she struggled for breath.

And that was the end of that.

+++7++++

The journey back was peaceful and quiet. Both of them too worried to resume their talk. They needed to know that Sizhui was safe.

But also, the woman's words were etched into their minds.

It sat heavily and unsaid.

++8++++

When they arrived at Gusu, they were informed that Sizhui was getting better. When they visited him, he was awake and full of questions.

Wangji still needed to reprimand him about the incident.

“Be more careful, be more vigilant. Some people would always look to do you harm, just because who your parents are....”

“You mean....”

“I feel responsible for you A-Yuan, when I joke and say I am like a mother to you, what I really mean is that I do love you like a son, I always did. You were so small...” Wei Ying says. “I'm sorry that would make your life harder. But I don’t regret it. Loving you as a father”

The boy blushed and nodded. “Thats...more than I can hope for and deserve, honestly”

“Nonsense, you are a sweet kid”

“I’ll be more careful from now on. It honestly passed my attention. I didn’t feel when she prickled me, but I should have checked out as soon as I felt it, it was just like a bug bite as the days passed”

“Yes, you should inform us at once whenever you feel something out of the ordinary. Your father is the chief cultivator and head of Gusu Lan after all. You are too burdened by us, but also, very, very loved”

“I will!” he says earnestly. Wangji feels a deep warm on his chest.

Even if they aren't husbands in the future, they still are fathers together.

+9+++

After two more days of rest, Sizhui is allowed to stand from the bed. They let him sit on the garden outside the infirmary, he sits on a warmed patch of grass. The sun over his head, book in hand.

Wangji and Wei Ying sit on the shaded porch of the budling drinking tea in pace.

It's very, very peaceful, and exactly what he needed. Those days are blurred with quiet happiness. A vacation of sorts to him.

“He shouldn’t stay in the sun to long unless he gets a hat” comments Wei Ying.

“um” he agrees.

“This feels too domestic”

“um?” he asks

“the three of us.... sitting here as time passes. I know it can't be like this all the time, but this stolen moment is perfect”

Wangji looks over at Sizhui and agrees.

“Maybe we should get another one....”

“Another one?...” he asks confused.

“Another child...” he smiles. “Just to keep stealing moments like this....”

He grunts a small smile.

“We could do that. Adopt another child in need. Educate him”

“Yes...”

“Because no one would bat an eyelash if we are married all good and proper”

Wangji looks quickly at him.

“Yeah...” Wei Ying smiles. “That woman made me think. It's true that soulmates are a rare gift from fate. This is my chance to be with you. Who knows when would I get the chance of finding you again? You are the one for me, we have known this since when were young. As an adult I can't deny that I was born for you. I have done too much damage, and I will be expected to repay all my wrong doings, I'm sure we’ll find each other again, but that’s a problem I don’t have right now”

“What about your fears?”

“Can it really get any worse than what has happened? I'm sure I won't be all very peaceful like this. I'm sure it would be hard and sometimes dark. But you are a light to me. You don’t have to run after me anymore. I'm done running. And I believe it is my time to sit beside you and wait. I’ll wait until you are done with whatever you need to do, and then, when we both are free with our time. We could do anything we want. And besides, I do have a knack for teaching”

Wangji took his hand.

“I’ll be a great life” said Wei Ying with a smile. An Wangji knew then, that it was true.

The race was over, but they’ll kelp walking beyond the finishing line.

#alightbuthappypen #wangxianLNY21 #*LNYfic21 #*LNYgifts21

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onepiece-writting-forest · 4 years

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Hello my dear friend! I really loved your headcanons with Killer and Hawkins walking in on their crush, and i wanted to ask if we can have a part 2, where this time it's their crush who are walking in ~ SFW or NSFW i let you choose 🤗 (im pretty you were surprised by my request 👀👀)

[Part 1!] [Headcanon of Killer and Hawkins walking ino n their crush changing]

[Totally did not expect this ask...no... 👀 So Since I already like the setup, I will recycle that one. Especially the forest part with Killer, and i continued with Hawkins part. And I made it SFW since it’s two characters and I didn’t want it to be too long ;°; My apologies. Hope you enjoy!]

Your captain had given you the task to go collect something edible. May it be mushrooms, berries or any other obscure plant which wouldn’t poison the pirates. You were the ships medic, and you had the knowledge for it. Especially after you prepared yourself before your crew anchored at this nature-dominated island. You have found some fitting literature for this specific island which had given you the information on what to eat, and what to stay away from.

While you walked in the humid atmosphere, you got thirsty at some point and followed the sound of the river. Your steps were light and quiet as usual. When you arrived, you felt a too familiar presents close by, and tensed up. You looked around, only to spot a wild blond mane. Staying hidden behind a tree trunk you watched him. He was closing the buttons on his jeans. His shirt, his mask and his weapons were laying in the grass. It seemed like he took a quick bath, his hair seemed damp from the water. Understandable considering how many days you’ve been on this island now. All the walking through mud and bushes didn’t do well on the crew hygiene. His bare back was turned to you, and you kept watching him from the distance. He didn’t move, just stood there. You noticed how his back muscles tensed up. His behavior was off.

Within seconds, Killer had one of his scythe in his hand, turned around and threw it into your direction. The speed the blade was spinning at you made your heart stop. Without even thinking you pulled your sword out, enough for the blade to keep the tip in the sword sheath, and blocked his scythe. It crashed against your blade, and made you stumble backwards for a bit. “You should know better to not stalk people when they’re changing.” Without his mask and his shirt, he walked over to you, his voice somewhat amusing. You needed a second to catch your breath, before you pushed your sword back in. Sneaking up on Killer wasn’t smart. “Throwing your scythe wasn’t necessary.” You said with a sigh and stroke your hair back, before you faced him. Seeing him without his mask wasn’t new to you. He was quite comfortable around you, and you were well aware of that. Yet, the way the sun hit against him and contoured his edges wasn’t something you were used to. He caught you starring, again.

Killer snipped in front of your face, trying to get you back to reality. You blinked a few times in irritation, before you pulled your eyes away from his torso and faced him.“I knew it was you. Wanted to test you.” He grinned slightly, and picked up his scythe to put it back into it’s sheath. He knew your skills, you wouldn’t be a member of this crew if you wouldn’t be strong. “Hope you enjoyed it.” He tilted his head, self-confidence beaming from him. He knew how you felt for him, that’s what made him so cocky. Situations like this weren’t rare, the two of you flirted a lot when the others were not around. Throwing suggestive comments at each other whenever you could. You knew it was mutual, yet still hidden. “Of course, thanks for the show.” You said and grinned up to him. He clicked his tongue and bowed down to you, capturing your chin between his fingers. The way his broad form hovered over you made goosebumps spread over you skin. You didn’t back down, and leaned into his touch, a grin still hovering on your lips. “It’s not for free...” His voice was deep and raspy, almost a whisper.

This cat-and-mouse game was going on for a while now, and there were many opportunities you could have taken. Like this one. No one was around, no one would hear you two. However, you didn’t want this to be some friendship with benefits. You’ve seen this with many women on man-dominated crews. It seemed enjoyable, but you wanted something more. Your crush had developed into a love interest, and you were not a toy Killer would play with however he wanted.

Before he could react, you had your dagger pulled, pressed against his throat. It was in no way threatening, Killer was aware of that. It was rather playful, just like him throwing the his scythe. A smirk formed on his lips and he raised an eyebrow. You pressed the blade slightly against his skin, just to let him feel the cold blade. “Ask me out, and I will repay you.” Killers shoulders shook from the chuckle he held back. He loved that on you. You played along with all those dirty jokes and suggestive looks, however weren’t easy to get. A women with dignity and self-confidence. Just his taste.

“Alright.” He pulled away, and walked back to were his shirt and mask was. You put your dagger back and watched him gather his stuff with a smirk. “If we survive this shithole island, I will take you out. Deal?”

“Deal.”

You were really thankful that you were allowed to use his bathtub. It calmed your mind and relaxed your body more than ever. Not only taking a bath, but generally the atmosphere in his bathroom was so cozy. He had a good sense for decorating the room, and those essential oils for the water were amazing. He knew how to relax, that was clear.

The last time he allowed it to you, without you asking. It was an offer you gladly took. This time, you wanted to ask him for a second allowance. The relationship between you and your captain seemed pretty down to earth from an outta perspective, yet you two get along really well. So well, that he indeed allowed you a second time. The crew had noticed that you sometimes got a different treatment from the captain, and they didn’t begrudged it. They actually liked seeing you two together and only waited for the moment when it would finally happen. Your personalities fitted perfectly for each other, which you had noticed as well. But for now, you thanked your captain for being able to use the bathtub again. You agreed on the evening, since the crew had business to take care of the whole day.

That business ended in a bloodbath, a glory victory for you crew. Some small injuries but nothing to be worried about. Your clothes were soaked in blood which slowly beg an to dry and smell of iron. Dirt and blood from your enemies covered your hands and some drops even landed on your face. You felt disgusting and the only thing you wanted was that promised bath. A quick visit to your own room to grab your stuff, before you headed to the captains cabin. You knocked, yet no one answered. Thinking Hawkins wasn’t there, you opened up the room and peaked inside. It was empty. You closed the door behind you and were about to step into the bathroom, when you spotted that the door was open. You froze in place when you saw your captain sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He had his shirt removed, and tried to scrub the blood stains away. A red splash of it was on his face and on his torso. He looked like he came freshly from combat, which he actually did.

He didn’t look up, yet spoke to you which made you flinch just a bit. It felt like he didn’t notice you, yet he was well aware that you were in his room. He didn’t forgot the promise he made. “My apologies, I will leave in a minute.” You nodded and stepped into the room, to place your fresh clothes in your hand on a stool close by. He was still scrubbing his shirt, but at some point gave it up. He tried to remove the fresh blood as good as possible, so the later washing would do the rest. Looking up, he faced you, and watched how you placed your neatly folded clothes aside. His eyes then darted to the bathtub. He’d love to take a bath right now, he felt as dirty as you did. You caught him looking, aware of what he was thinking. A silent sigh left your lips as you sat next to him on the edge of the bathtub. “Hawkins...I think the thing between us is pretty obvious now isn't it?” He looked at you for a moment and nodded. He thought the same. “I guessed you would want to speak about it today. It was time anyway. Waiting longer wouldn’t do any good.”

There was a short silence between you two, both trying to think of words to say. The right words. You mind was circling over so many thoughts and questions you had, you couldn't decided which one was the right one. “...Should we?” You finally broke the silence and looked at the blonde one. This questions was probably one he could answer better than you. Not only with him reading cards, but also him having a good gut feeling for decisions. That was the reason he was the captain after all. He knew when the risk was worth it, and when not. Hawkins looked into his lap and tilted his head. He was thinking about it. He had thought about it for a long time actually. And the answer was yes every time, the chance of a successful relationship with you only grew by time. However, he didn’t want to answer with a simple yes.

Actually, he didn’t answer you at all, and simply stood up. He turned around to close the plughole of the bathtub, before he turned on the water. You watched him curiously, knowing you captain would give you an answer eventually, which didn’t have to be verbal. He took a few of the essential oils, looked at them and tried to decide which one to pick. A floral one got chosen. He let a few drops fall into the water and put the glass bottle back into the basket. The candles in the room got lit, and the bullseye covered with the curtains. When he closed the door of the bathroom and stayed with you, you knew you got your answer. It was a clear ‘yes’. A small smile formed on your lips and your heart raced liked wild. Even more when he began to strip down completely and sat into the tub. He looked at you, nodding into the water. You of course understood his silent demand, and removed your blood soaked clothes. Hawkins held a hand out for you and helped you get into the tub. You made yourself comfortable between his legs with your back resting against his chest.

His arms wrapped around your form, and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “Well, since it’s official, how about we share my room as well. How does that sound?”

#hawkins was pretty fun to write actually #one piece imagine #One piece killer #Killer x Reader #reader insert #one piece x reader #basil hawkins #hawkins x reader #one piece supernova #romance #hawkins hc #killer hc

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