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headheartbellarke · 4 years ago

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EIGHTEEN | Charlie Gillespie

PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x sister’s best friend!fem reader

WARNING(s): mentions of abuse, trauma, fluff

WORDS: 3.9k

SUMMARY: “So kiss me where I lay down

My hands pressed to your cheeks

A long way from the playground

I have loved you since we were 18

Long before we both thought the same thing

To be loved and to be in love

All I can do is say that these arms

Are made for holding you.”

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Charlie smiles, watching the sunlight dance on Y/N’s face, almost like little splashes of golden paint. She hums to whatever song is playing through her earphones, a faint smile teasing the corners of her lips. Her eyes are closed, and Charlie marvels at how peaceful and serene she looks. Her h/c hair surrounds her head like a halo, and he is tempted to reach forward and press a kiss to her temple.

He doesn’t do that, of course. Instead, he gets up from his couch and joins Y/N on the floor, lying beside her. Her eyelashes flutter at his movement and quaint, kind e/c eyes hold his stare, eyebrows raised in question.

“I thought you said that you were too mighty for the floor.” She teases, biting her lower lip to hide a smile. Charlie almost melts at that.

“I never said that. Is everything okay up there?” He points his index finger at her head.

The young woman of nineteen laughs mockingly. “Why, afraid you’re rubbing off your crazy on me?”

Charlie rolls his eyes, and shifts closer to her, their arms touching slightly – and even that slight touch makes him feels butterflies in his stomach. It’s not uncommon, of course. Ever since he realized that he is indeed in love with her, anything that she does gives him butterflies. He doesn’t mind, of course – but he hates the fact that he is unable to tell her what effect she has on him. So, he resorts to ignoring or suppressing everything he feels for his little sister’s best friend instead.

She pulls out an ear pod from her left ear and shoves it into Charlie’s ear. Eastside. She’s had this song on repeat, ever since she came to visit him in Vancouver, where he’s filming for the first season of Julie and The Phantoms.

“I love this song. Reminds me of my first boyfriend. Remember him?” She says, softly.

“Aaron. How could I forget? You begged me to cover for you at home so you could hang out with him.” He says, smiling softly at the memory. They were so young, Y/N just fourteen, and him sixteen. He remembers Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he was watching a movie, all flushed and bothered, eyes continuously flitting to Charlie. He remembers saying, “I know you’re dying to tell me something.”

She had nodded, looking around the Gillespies’ living room where they were currently seated in, apprehensively. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

He had jutted out his pinky finger and wrapped it around hers. “Never.”

“I think I really, really, super-duper like Aaron.”

“Aaron as in your next-door neighbor?”

“Yep.”

Charlie had smirked. “He’s such a dork. I can’t believe that you like him.”

“Shut up, Char. He’s the sweetest.”

He chuckled. “His hobby is taking pictures of trees… if that doesn’t scream ‘dork’, then I don’t know what does.”

She had glared at him while Megan had entered the room, plopping down on the couch beside Charlie. “What’s up?”

“I’m telling him about Aaron, and he thinks that he’s a dork.”

Megan shrugged. “What’s wrong with that? He’s really cute. Also, he was asking about you today.”

“Really?” Y/N’s eyes brightened. Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “You girls are weird. But I approve. He’s a nice kid.”

“I wasn’t looking for your approval?”

“Yes, you were.”

The girls had rolled their eyes at him and he had wrapped his arms around the two.

Y/N’s voice brings him back to the present. “Simple times.”

Charlie faces her. “Everyone after him were horrible.”

She narrows her eyes at the boy beside her. “No, you were just too overprotective.”

“Nope. They were all horrible.”

They weren’t. Charlie just hated anyone who showed an interest in Y/N. At first, he thought that it was probably because he had literally watched her grow up. But a couple of months later, when he watched her kiss Levitt from the swim team, he had felt a smoldering rage rise in his stomach, along with his heart clenching. That day, he had realized that maybe there was more to it than watching her grow up. A couple more months later, on his eighteenth birthday, when she had kissed him on his cheek and handed him a present wrapped in shiny, blue paper, he had felt butterflies in his stomach. He also could feel the ghost of her delicate lips against his skin for days after, like the remnants of a fire brushing against his cheek.

When he unwrapped the present, he found a vintage, hardbound copy of his favorite book, Les Misérables, along with a note, saying: ‘I might’ve read your journal. Only the part about how much you loved hardcovers and the part about how much you hated the fact that no bookstores nearby sold it. Well, I also might’ve read the part about how frustrated you are with microwave timers. I feel you, dude. But, yeah, remember when I said that I was going to visit my sister in Montoc? I lied, LOL. I went to a vintage bookstore in Fredericton. I’m sorry for lying, but ‘twas for a good reason, huh? Hope you like this. Also, you’re my second favorite person, after Meg. Happy 18th, Charles. Love, Y/N.’

That moment he had realized that he was completely, utterly, truly, madly, deeply in love with his little sister’s best friend.

It’s been about three years since that, and he still hasn’t told her how he feels.

Now, Y/N looks at him, and rolls her eyes. “Sheesh.”

She props herself on her elbow. “When are we going out today?”

“Jeremy said that he made a reservation at 6. So, we’ll leave half an hour earlier.”

“Okay. Is Owen going with us?”

“Yeah. I don’t trust him to drive in Canada.”

She grins. “He’s cool.”

“Maybe sometimes.”

“Savannah and Madi are the coolest, though.”

“Definitely, yeah.”

“You never told me that you had a cute roomie, though.”

“Yeah – wait what?”

Y/N flashes him a teasing smile and pushes herself upward with the palm of her hands. She brushes off her yoga pants and extends an arm to Charlie who is currently panicking inside.

“Do you like Owen?”

“What if I do?”

Charlie must have looked as horrified as he had felt because she laughs and says, “I’m just messing with you.”

“Thank god.”

***

“Finally!” Y/N yells, kicking off her black, leather heels, which land near Charlie’s feet. He laughs, kicking them to the side.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I dare you to wear heels like that for a day. See how you feel.”

Owen pipes from behind them, closing the door to their apartment. “Oh, I did. My friend Dani made me wear them for a video. It was the most painful day of my life.”

“See!” Y/N high fives his roommate as Charlie scrunches up his face. “How’d she find heels in your size, dude?”

He laughs, and extends an arm toward the other two, who hand him their coats, muttering ‘thank you’ individually. He walks inside, yelling, “I’m fucking tired. Going to sleep.”

“Don’t forget to check the stove!” Charlie yells back, hearing his roommate affirm his request.

It’s just the two of them standing in the foyer now, and Charlie can’t stop staring at her. She’s wearing this beautiful red dress that compliments her skin perfectly, clinging to her body in all the right places – he had himself gifted her this dress on her nineteenth birthday. (Not really. His mother had picked the dress.)

She hasn’t noticed him staring, though.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to get out of this dress.” She walks inside.

Charlie pauses and purses his lips, trying to stop himself from picturing him doing it. He breathes out raggedly and follows her inside – trying (and failing) to shove that mental picture away.

Reaching the living room, he falls back onto the couch, which has been his bed for the past few days that Y/N has been here. She had protested, of course. But she already has so much trouble sleeping – she’s had it ever since she was a child.

Y/N hadn’t had the best childhood. Charlie faintly remembers his mom pulling him and his sister into the kitchen one day when Y/N left their house after spending the whole day there.

“Mom? What happened to Y/N?” Megan had asked, childlike innocence dripping off her tone.

Charlie had nodded, saying, “How’d she fall down the stairs? That bruise looked nasty.”

Their mother had sighed, and Charlie still remembers the pain in her eyes. “Honey. I want you to listen carefully, okay? And not tell anyone. You two think you can do that?”

They nodded enthusiastically.

“There are good people in this world – like Y/N. But there are also bad people, people who hurt the good people. And sometimes, sometimes, your parents can also be bad people.”

“That’s not true!” Megan had protested, their mother smiling.

“Maybe not for you. I hope so. But Y/N’s parents – they aren’t the best people, okay? They…uh… I’m not going to excuse their actions. They, uh, hurt Y/N.”

“So, they pushed her down the stairs?” Charlie asked, his eyes widened. He could not understand how the people that loved you the most could do that to you, especially to someone like Y/N. He’s known her his entire life, ever since the Y/L/Ns moved next door when he was still in diapers.

“I don’t know. Something happened. She was too shaken up to talk about it.”

“But – but – she’s the best person ever! Why would her mom and dad do that to her?” Megan had protested, eyes welling with tears at the thought of her best friend getting hurt.

“I don’t know, honey. I wish I did, I really do.” Their mother paused for a long moment. “I want you two to always be nice to her, alright? No matter what happens. Because, right now, she feels alone. I can see it in her eyes – she’s scared, confused, lonely. I know you two love her so much, and I want you guys to make sure that she knows it, okay? Make sure that she never feels lonely, all right? Make sure that she’s always safe and comfortable, as long as she’s with us, you.”

They had nodded, their hearts welling up with love for their friend.

After their mother hugged the two of them, Charlie’s twelve-year-old sister had run off to the other room, to call her best friend and tell her just how much she loves her.

Charlie had lingered in the kitchen, too sad over what he’d just been told.

“Maman?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Can’t we just keep her for ourselves?”

“If we could, we would. I would like nothing more. But that’s absolutely not legal, mon chéri.”

“Oh. That’s unfair.”

His mother had flashed him a sad smile. He had taken both of his hands in his, and said sincerely, “I promise you, maman. I’m always gonna protect her. No matter what.”

His mother had pressed a kiss into his tousled hair and whispered, “I expect nothing less.”

It’s been more than seven years since, but Charlie still does everything in his power to make sure that she is always safe and happy.

“Hey, Char?” Her voice brings him back from his childhood.

“Yeah?”

“That couch doesn’t look comfortable.” She shrugged one shoulder.

“It is! I promise you.” He lied. It definitely wasn’t comfortable. The blinding pain in his neck is proof of that.

“Don’t lie to me. Come on, sleep in your bed.”

He shook his head.

“You’re not gonna sleep on the couch, Y/N. Seriously. You’re right, it’s too uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t gonna. We’ll sleep together. That came out wrong. I mean, we can both sleep in the same bed, we’re both adults.”

Charlie wanted to protest, but the hopeless romantic in him drowned all objections.

“We’ll put pillows between us, okay? And it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before. Remember my seventeenth? We were so drunk that we thought that the bed was a magnet, and we were screws.” She continued, looking away.

Charlie smiled up at her, remembering the feeling he had the next morning when he had woken up to find Y/N curled up into him, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. “All right. If it’s okay with you.”

She nods, walking into his bedroom, with Charlie following close behind. Both them wordlessly change and freshen up in the bathroom, and Charlie falls face first in his bed.

“Oh. My. God.”

Y/N laughs, sitting at the corner of his bed. “Knew it.”

Charlie grins at her, feeling absolutely euphoric, especially with the buzz from all the drinks he’s had tonight still lingering in his head like a tattoo kiss. She slides under the covers, burrowing her face into the soft pillows. “I can’t function anymore. Bye.”

He laughs softly, squeezing her shoulder, to which she softly smiles. He slides under the cover, resting on his side to face her, or rather a mess of h/c hair and soft, rhythmic breaths. He closes his eyes, switching off the light, but he knows that he will not be getting much sleep tonight, especially with the fuzzy citrus scent of her perfume everywhere and the heat from her body consuming him.

***

It’s 1:20 AM and Charlie can’t sleep. Turns out that being in the same bed with the girl he’s been in love with since he was eighteen is a very, very bad idea. He’s put as much space between them as possible, yet he still feels vigilant and hot. His mind is betraying him: all he can think about is how beautiful she looks when the moonlight streaming through his window is casting shadows on her face, or how she’s sometimes saying things (really, really weird things, though – Charlie doesn’t understand anything), how much she looks like a little cat while she’s snuggled into the covers, or how she flails her arms while she’s asleep.

He considers crashing in Owen’s room for the night. But as soon as Y/N starts moving around, still sleeping, he holds that thought and watches her instead.

He can see her getting agitated, as she tosses and turns. She continues murmuring something, but it’s still all jumbled, and it hits Charlie.

He props himself on his elbow and leans close to her face. “Y/N. Hey. Come back to me. Y/N. Honey. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

She gasps, as consciousness floods in her system. She looks confused for a second, and Charlie sits up, right beside her. “Listen to me. You’re safe. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

She exhales, eyes closing for a second.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asks when her breathing has turned cadenced.

Her eyes widen and lips part. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize for that. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I just – ever since I left home, I’ve been getting these nightmares.” She says, softly. Charlie lays next to her, turning to face her, while she mirrors his actions.

“What do you see?” He asks.

“Mostly my childhood. You know, my dad pushing me down the stairs. Or my mother telling me that I’m a horrible person and no one will ever love me, and she should have aborted me. Or my dad breaking the mirror the one time I got a B in math. Or my parents fighting. Or – you know, just a montage of my parents’ greatest hits.”

She breathes out shakily.

“Getting away didn’t stop the nightmares, huh?” He asks, resting a hand on her warm cheek.

She scoots closer. “No. They still text me sometimes, mostly to remind me that I’m a terrible person and that I’m gonna go to hell for walking out on them and not going to Harvard.”

“Y/N, don’t you dare –”

“No. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Walking out was the best decision that I’ve ever made.”

He smiles softly at her.

“You and Megan… god, you two saved my life. I would never have had the courage to get this far if it wasn’t for you guys.”

“No, honey. It was all you. You’re the strongest person we know.”

“Shush. Let me compliment you in peace. You guys are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know.”

She smiles, reaching forward to tangle run her hands through Charlie’s hair. They were dangerously close now: Charlie could see the curve of her nose, the lingering red lipstick color on her lips and count the number of eyelashes she has.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to us, too.”

Charlie can feel something in the space between them, something pulling them close. It is cold outside, but here, in the cocoon they’ve created, he feels warm and at home.

“Like, thank you so much for pushing me to get into law school. Now, I’m learning how to help millions of little girls who are going through what I went through, and it makes everything worth it. I feel like I don’t say this enough, but Charlie. Thank you for everything.”

He smiles, trying to retort something funny but her proximity has jumbled his mind.

“I know you’re really busy with your life, but thanks for still thinking of me sometimes.”

That breaks Charlie out of his daze. “What?”

“You know. You’re in a Netflix show, working with Kenny freaking Ortega and all these incredible people – and I’m enormously proud of you, by the way – and… well, you’ll soon not have that much time for your little sister’s best friend, you know?”

“You’re not just my little sister’s best friend, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m your friend, alright. But soon you’ll be meeting celebrities and models and actors and then you wouldn’t have time for me anymore.”

Charlie furrows his brows. “Where is this coming from, Y/N?”

“I just had a lot of time to think today.” She turns on her back, facing the ceiling.

He hates the fact that she is so unpredictable: he never knows what’s going on in her head or what she is feeling. That’s one of the reasons that he’s kept his feelings for her a secret for almost three years.

“I saw you with that model today. At the bar. Uh. So, I thought that you’re probably gonna meet a lot of them in LA. Models and Hollywood girls and all that. So, you’ll probably not have any time for me anymore.”

Charlie shakes his head, recalling the model he was talking to earlier today. Or rather, yesterday. Carol. She was really nice, sweet, and beautiful – and definitely interested in Charlie. But his focus had been on Y/N, who was having a dance off with Owen and Savannah, all evening – or rather, all the time. He had tried to focus on the Carol, he really did – but after an hour, she herself realized that he wasn’t into her and whispered a ‘good luck with her’ to him before leaving to go back to her friends.

“Y/N, that’s not true –”

“It’s okay, Charlie. It’s good. Your life shouldn’t be stuck in the same place. It should be getting better, and you should be meeting new people, you know? You’ve been alone for a weirdly long time and it’s freaking your mom out. So, I know you’re gonna fall in love with someone and then you’ll be too busy –”

“God, Y/N, how are you so fucking oblivious?” Charlie snaps, annoyance coursing through his veins.

Her eyes widen at his harsh tone of voice, and it shocks Charlie, too. He’s never, ever raised his voice at her.

“What?”

Maybe it’s having her so incredibly close that causes him to finally snap. “Y/N, I have been in love with you ever since I was eighteen. You’re the only person that I want, and you’re the reason that I’ve been alone for a weirdly long time.”

He immediately regrets saying that. Y/N is sitting up, and she is looking around everywhere, trying to avert Charlie’s eyes. He hides his face behind his hands, sinking deeper into the covers and trying to create a hole and fall down to the center of the earth.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink today.”

He groans into his hands, glad that he’s under the covers and the girl can’t see his absolutely scarlet face. “Oh, for god’s sake. Dude. I wrote you an entire ballad when I was nineteen because I realized that this is exactly what’s gonna happen – that I’m always gonna be in love with you, and you’re always gonna think of me as your best friend’s older brother.”

He feels the covers shift above his head, and is greeted with Y/N’s face, a vulnerable look in her eyes. “Do you really mean it?”

“Of course, I do. You’re my family – do you really think that I’m gonna joke about something like this and ruin our friendship? The only reason I’m even telling you this is because I’m incredibly frustrated that you’re so oblivious and you’re so fucking pretty. And so close. See, this is exactly why I wanted to sleep on the couch. Because I knew that I would lose it.”

There’s a sudden flurry of movement and her lips are on his’, and they’re kissing, kissing, kissing. Charlie is too shocked to do anything at first but as soon as the warmth courses through his system and the butterflies go wild in his gut, he pulls her closer, rising up. She sits in his lap, straddling him, their hands getting lost in each other’s hairs – both of them trying to be closer, closer, closer to make up for all the lost years and to keep feeling the contentment that they feel from just being close to each other. She tastes like Charlie’s mint toothpaste and his dreams – like everything he’s ever wanted.

As they separate for air, Y/N rests her forehead on his. “I thought you knew.”

“What?” He’s surprised to find his voice hoarse.

“That I’m in love with you.”

He can’t stop the grin on his face from escaping. “What?”

“I thought Meg told you. Or your mum. Or anyone really. Everyone’s called me out on it. I’ve always had a crush on you but dating all those guys in high school made me realize that I was kind of, you know, in love with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Same reason as you. You’re my family, Charlie. I didn’t wanna lose what we have just because of… you know.”

Y/N slides off his lap and lies on the bed, next to him and he mirrors her actions, and she rests her head on his chest, the frantic beating in his chest her background music. He drapes an arm around her shoulders, desperate to have her close.

“We’re both cowards, eh?”

She giggles.

“Wait. Meg knew?”

“Of course. She’s my best friend.”

“You know, one day I got drunk and told her that ‘I’m 100% attracted to your best friend sexually and emotionally and everythingally.’ I kept wondering why she was laughing.”

“I hate her.” She buries her face in Charlie’s chest, giggling.

Charlie laughs and pulls her in for another kiss, desperate to hold her again, to feel the high he only feels around her. She smiles against his lips, before a thought occurs to him. “Wait. You were jealous of the bar girl, weren’t you?”

“Shut up, you dork.”

They’re only half aware of the snowstorm raging outside from the warm cocoon they’ve created in each other’s arms. Maybe miracles really do exist.

***

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jeonsjiddies · 4 years ago

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Lying That You Love Me | myg (m)

Summary - Upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running. You never could have imagined Min Yoongi would be the one to put your pieces back together, but there is always more than meets the eye.

Word Count - 10.5k

Pairing - Yoongi x reader

Genre - smut, minor angst

Warnings - mentions of broken family, family issues, mentions of homelessness, softdom!yoongi, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (female)

a/n - Part of the Tatted Bangtan Series! 💕 Sorry it’s soooo late, I sprained my wrist lol. Hope you enjoy now that it’s finally here! Huge thanks to @nervouskiwi , @sunshinekims , and @excusemin for beta reading. 💕

You know those people you just instantly connect with? You hear their laugh one time and suddenly you feel more connected to a stranger than a friend you've known your whole life? Something in their smile that resonates deep within your soul, that somehow, on some level (whether it be friends or lovers or a kind stranger who changed your life in passing only to never meet again) you are just... meant to find each other.

Those people who feel like sunshine on your cloudy days? The ones who wrap you in warmth and make your heart say "Ah, yes, so this is what home is supposed to feel like. This is what it means to belong. This is what it means to be myself, unafraid."

Somehow, amidst all the chaos and the heartbreak and the hurt, you find yourself cocooned in safety, building your own version of home with these strangers who feel like family; and it's good. And sometimes your heart beats so fast and your chest feels so tight and you feel like you just can't breathe, so you reach out a hand into the dark unknown and you're met with arms wrapping around you and holding you together. Holding you until all your broken pieces can be glued back together, one by one.

Min Yoongi was one of those people.

Now, upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. He looked more like someone who was one wrong look away from tearing you to shreds. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running.

But you… you were a little different. You’d taken one look at the man covered in intricate inky designs and your face had lit up with glee. A few hours prior to meeting Yoongi, you’d been sitting in your car, reclined back with your phone, leeching off of McDonald’s free wifi for the 11th night in a row. Your back ached, your stomach growled, and your foot was one more cramp away from being the end of you. The tiny cabin of your car was no place for you to live.

You scrolled through rental listings, looking for the cheapest option that didn’t look like it popped straight out of a horror movie. Your budget was low, being recently thrown out by your father after a fight about you dropping out of college. Your father was convinced you couldn’t survive on your own and you wanted to prove him wrong.

Finally stumbling upon a small 2 bedroom apartment on the west side of town leasing out the second bedroom, you clicked on the listing. There was no way you’d be able to afford your own apartment in a safe area, so you’d ended up expanding your search to find someone looking for a roommate. You zoomed in on the pictures provided, though there were few, it looked pretty nice. You scrolled down and read the description.

Single male, 27, searching for a roommate. You pay half the rent and utilities. Rent is $950 and utilities usually range about $300 a month, give or take. Pets welcome, but there is a deposit with the apartment complex and a monthly fee. My friend (and ex roommate) recently moved in with his long-time girlfriend and I need someone to help with expenses. Serious inquiries only. Contact for more info. 555-555-1382.

You quickly typed the number into your phone and texted the man to set up a time to view the apartment, but if you were being honest with yourself, you were already sold. This was the cleanest looking unit you’d seen, on a safe side of town, and it was more affordable than anything else you were going to get that was half as nice.

The man was quick with responses and very polite, and the two of you agreed to meet that evening at 4pm. You were absolutely giddy, a petty smirk on your face as you imagined telling your father that you indeed weren’t coming home, tail between your legs. You would not allow him to dictate your life anymore.

3:30 rolled around and you made your way over to the area the apartment was listed in, not wanting to be late. The apartment was part of a large building that was clearly a few years old but still in good shape. You looked around, noting that the nearby houses were well-worn but not worn down. It looked like a good area, and based on your Trulia searches, the crime was low here.

You smiled from your parking space and waited until 3:55 to walk up to the buzzer, hitting the button for apartment 5D which had Min Yoongi listed as a resident. Yoongi. You liked that name. You grinned when a deep voice came over the speaker, asking who was there.

“It’s Y/N, we have a 4pm appointment for me to see the apartment?” you answered back cheerily.

“Oh, yes, come on up.” before he was even done speaking, you heard the door click as he unlocked it.

You pulled open the heavy door and began making your way up the staircase, glancing around for the correct apartment. Near the end of the hallway, you finally spotted your destination, nestled in the corner by a large window that looked out to the rest of the apartment complex. There was a playground and a tennis court, without a net, but you didn’t really care.

You gently knocked against the wooden door, the only one without some form of decoration on the outside and waited for the man to appear and let you inside. You weren’t sure what kind of person you expected to see on the other side of the wooden door; you really hadn’t given it much thought. You were entirely unprepared however, to see the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on swinging the door open and dusting his hands on his worn jeans before flicking his onyx gaze up to meet yours, pinning you to your spot.

You snapped out of your haze and allowed your eyes to roam over his features, from his button nose to his full lips, to his toned arms, covered with decorative tattoos, beautiful inky designs trailing from his knuckles all the way up his veiny forearms, past his biceps, and disappearing into the sleeve of his t shirt. You sucked in a breath, noticing the eyebrow ring and multiple ear piercings.

“Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi.” he smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth, something shiny catching the light when his tongue darted out to wet his lips. A tongue ring.

A shiver ran through your body but you reached out your hand to shake his extended one. His large hand seemed to engulf yours, the veins prominent and a little distracting. Your face lit up in a grin, knowing that if your dad took one look at this man, he’d surely lose his mind.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Yoongi, thank you for meeting me on such short notice!” you smiled, allowing your hand to slip from his grasp and biting back the whine at the loss of contact.

“Come on in, have a look around. Like I said in the ad, my friend moved in with his girlfriend and left me to fend for myself. He did have the smaller bedroom but if that’s an issue, we can switch, if you’re interested that is.” he chuckled nervously, reaching his arm up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Oh, I am interested.” you giggled, looking around the spacey living room, which had an open concept that led into a small kitchen, but it looked like it had decent counter space.

“Oh! This is the kitchen…” Yoongi began, leading you over to get a better look after seeing where your eyes were wandering.

“It’s very roomy.” you noted with a smile.

“Jin did most of the cooking, but I helped out sometimes and we both fit in here pretty easily without getting in each other’s way.” he explained.

“Ooh, you cook?” you turned your gaze to him and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink.

“A little.” he admitted.

“Nice. Me too.” you grinned.

“Cool.” he grinned, his smile was the cutest thing you’d ever seen, the best way you could describe it was… gummy. Sweet. Warm.

Yoongi led you on a tour of the rest of the house, showing you your future bedroom, which was furnished since his previous roommate hadn’t needed to take his bed with him, his bedroom, the bathroom you’d share, and the small laundry unit in the hallway, hidden behind a closet-like door. Nice. In-unit laundry was a definite plus.

The apartment wasn’t super spacious, the bedrooms were on the smaller side, but the living room and kitchen were nice sizes, and there was in-unit laundry, and Yoongi seemed like a very clean, respectful individual. You were sold before you’d walked in, but now you were over the moon about the small patch of paradise you’d stumbled upon.

“Is there a deposit required? Or just first and last month's rent?” you asked Yoongi, who’d taken a seat across from you at the table.

“Oh, just the first month’s rent is fine. I’m not like a landlord or anything.” he said, shooting you a playful smile.

“Okay. Do you want a check or…?” you questioned. “I mean, if you’re willing to let me lease with you.”

“Of course! Check, cash, money order. I really don’t have a preference. If you want a paper trail with the office, we can do a check or money order.” he smiled.

You grinned back at the sheepish man across from you, his eyes shining with excitement. You were absolutely psyched to sleep in a real bed again, so tired of the worn leather seats in your car. Thank goodness it wasn’t summer so your skin wasn’t sticking to the material, but still. It wasn’t exactly a preferred sleeping space.

You ended up going to the ATM and giving Yoongi cash for the first month after adding your name to the lease just before the rental office closed. You both pitched in on a celebratory pizza and ate in the living room. You were surprised the rental office didn’t have to run a background check or something, you honestly didn’t think you’d be able to sleep in the apartment the same day you’d first laid eyes on it, but you weren’t complaining.

You stayed up with Yoongi until nearly 2am talking, drinking, laughing, and getting to know each other. He loved watching WWE, you loved watching K-dramas, he liked pineapple on his pizza and you thought that was basically blasphemy. Yoongi had braces growing up, had an older brother, preferred staying indoors to going out, and had a nasty habit he couldn’t seem to shake of biting his nails.

Yoongi was funny and warm and inviting. Though he seemed cold on the outside, he was actually very attentive and caring, always offering to refill your drink when he stood up, offering you a spare blanket if you looked cold, and making sure you felt comfortable as possible in your new home. You blamed it on the alcohol, but ended up getting way too personal too fast, telling Yoongi about why you’d moved in to begin with.

“... and he’s so condescending and judgemental, like he would hate your tattoos and immediately label you a delinquent just based on that alone.” you took a breath after rambling on for a few minutes, letting out your frustration for your situation.

“Wow, that’s… a lot,” Yoongi shook his head sympathetically, “it’s your life, you should do what makes you happy. It’s not his place to control everything you do.”

“He always has to be right, it’s exhausting.” you sighed.

“Well hey, bright side, you’re here now, and you’re free to be who you want and do whatever your heart desires. I fully support you.” Yoongi smiled at you and your heart seemed to grow three sizes.

“Thank you, Yoongi. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Do you have anything you need washed?” you asked Yoongi, gesturing to the washing machine that wasn’t even half full.

“Don’t you have any more clothes than that?” Yoongi asked.

For weeks, you’d been cycling the same three outfits you’d been able to bring with you in a small backpack when you’d left home.You’d thought about going back home to get the rest of your things, but you really didn’t want to face your father. You weren’t scared of him, not at all. In fact, you’d love to rub it in his face that you hadn’t failed as he’d expected you to do. You just didn’t want to deal with him yet.

Being around Yoongi, having the freedom to be yourself and being so wholly accepted for exactly who you were was intoxicating, and you weren’t ready to go back into that suffocating environment full of judgement and expectations, even for a short time. You were strong and resilient, but you also knew that your family issues were a sore spot for you.

“I do at my parents house. I just haven’t had a chance to go get my stuff.” you shrugged, starting the washer.

“You haven’t had a chance? Between lounging around watching Netflix and binge eating takeout?” Yoongi chuckled, leaning up against the wall and regarding you with a curious look.

“I’ve had time,” you emphasize with a sigh, “I just… I’m not ready to go there alone.”

“What if you weren’t alone?”

You looked up to meet Yoongi’s gaze in surprise, a supportive smile playing on his soft lips.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your chest filling with hope.

“If you want, I can go with you?” he offered.

“Really? You’d do that?” you tried to keep the astonishment out of your voice in an attempt to not look as pathetic and weak as you felt.

“Yeah, we can take my car, it’s bigger than yours anyway.” he shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and walking closer to you.

“Have I told you lately that you’re amazing?” you grinned, reaching up to hug him.

Yoongi was used to your affectionate nature, but sometimes it still caught him off guard, as he wasn’t an affectionate person. He wanted to be, he just wasn’t always comfortable using physical affection. He froze for a moment, but quickly regained his composure and wrapped his arms around your torso to return your hug.

“Yes, but feel free to remind me anytime. My fragile ego needs it.” he joked, poking your side playfully.

You released him from your hold with a light chuckle, stepping back and grinning up at him. He coughed and looked down to hide his shy smile from your view.

“Let’s go.”

“Wait, right now?” you gasped, eyes wide.

“Do you have other plans?” he questioned with a raised brow.

“Well, no… but I-” you began but Yoongi sent you a look that had you slipping on your shoes and following him out the door.

Yoongi smirked to himself at how easily you caved into him with just a stern look, unlocking the car and ushering you in before settling in the driver's seat and starting the engine. You couldn’t stop bouncing your leg from nerves, and Yoongi glanced your way every so often before gently placing his large hand on your knee for comfort. Except it did little to comfort you, having his veiny hands on your body only sent your heart into overdrive and caused your breathing to become that much shallower. You gave him an A for effort though.

“It’s going to be okay, I’m right here,” he soothed, “I’ve got your back.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” you smiled appreciatively, placing your hand on top of his for a moment before looking out the window, watching the trees fly by as you got closer to your parents house.

You hadn’t alerted your parents that you’d be coming, part of you hoping they wouldn’t be home and you could use the spare key to get your things and get out without having to interact with your father.

When the GPS announced you were one turn away, your hopes were crushed into a fine powder as you finally looked up and shrank back into your seat when you saw both of your parents’ vehicles occupying the driveway. Yoongi pulled in behind your mom’s car and cut the engine, turning to look at you. You met his gaze with your panicked one and he motioned for you to breathe with him, taking a few deep breaths and guiding you to calm yourself.

“You got this. You ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” you sighed, stepping out of his car and meeting him before walking to the front door.

You gripped his hand tightly, and Yoongi looked down at your conjoined hands in surprise but didn’t say anything, realizing that you needed the support.He squeezed your hand gently before rapping softly on the door. Your whole body tensed when you heard the lock click and Yoongi gave your hand another encouraging squeeze. The door swung open and your mother’s face was revealed, causing the hole in your chest to clench.

“Y/N!” she gasped, her eyes trailing along your form, down to your hands, then up Yoongi’s arms to his face, her expression one of astonishment.

“Hi, mom.” you coughed awkwardly.

“Y/N’s here?” you heard from behind her, the smug voice of your father grating against your ears. “Our little baby came home to admit we were right?”

His grinning face came into your view, standing just behind your mother, his smirk immediately falling once he laid eyes on Yoongi.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“This is Yoongi, he’s my-” you began.

“Are you dating this man?” your father interrupted, sounding panicked.

Your eyes flitted from your mom’s face to your dad’s, turning red with frustration. He had always hated people with tattoos, and you’d warned Yoongi about this. You didn’t think he’d get this worked up about it, and suddenly an idea popped in your head, and just as Yoongi was about to argue that you weren’t dating amidst your silence, you spoke up.

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend.” you said quickly, squeezing Yoongi’s hand in an attempt to beg him to go along with it.

Yoongi’s breath caught and he coughed into his elbow uncomfortably, but gave a sheepish grin when he recovered, letting go of your hand and extending his out to your parents.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. I’m Min Yoongi.”

Your mother stared at his hand hanging in the air like it was a foreign object before she collected herself, gingerly taking his hand in hers. Your father followed suit, his expression hard.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yoongi.” your mom smiled, warming up to Yoongi’s polite aura.

“I’m very honored to finally meet you. I see where Y/N gets her pretty eyes from.” Yoongi smiled, causing your mom to turn bashful and swat at him playfully.

Your dad hadn’t budged an inch, his hard gaze focused on the man at your side, scrutinizing and unwelcoming. His eyes wandered over Yoongi’s plethora of tattoos, many piercings, and ripped jeans. He made a face of distaste before turning his gaze to you.

“What are you doing here?” he wondered.

“We’re getting some of my stuff to take back home.” you explained.

“Home? You live with this man?!” you dad guffawed.

“Yes, we live together.” Yoongi supplied for you, stepping closer to you and wrapping an arm around you, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

He mostly wanted to be a shield for you against your father, as he could tell you were starting to shrink in on yourself, and he wanted to offer you a little more strength. You smiled up at him, hoping your eyes showed your thankfulness.

“Absolutely not, young lady. I won’t permit it.” your father hissed.

“With all due respect, you don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m an adult, and you kicked me out.” you shrugged, using your best acting skills to appear nonchalant.Yoongi felt your body shivering slightly against his.

“I- You-” your dad fumed.

“Why don’t we grab your clothes and come back for the rest when everyone has calmed down a little?” Yoongi offered quietly in your ear.

You nodded, pulling him along with you to your old bedroom. You felt your dad’s piercing gaze follow you down the hallway, but you ignored it. You grabbed some clothes and a few other things, throwing them in a decorative tote you’d once used to house scrapbooking supplies. Yoongi took the tote from you and led the way back out of the house, your hand clutching the back of his shirt like a safety blanket, the other arm filled with more clothes.

Your mom watched you quietly, with a sullen expression, seeming to try and express her apologies through her eyes while your dad seethed from his recliner, refusing to look at you. You sighed, taking a look around the house you used to call home before announcing your departure and waving goodbye, following Yoongi out the front door.

Once you’d placed the things in the back of the car and sat in the passenger seat, your body deflated. Yoongi began driving, to get you out of the line of sight of your parents in case you broke down, so they wouldn’t see.

“Yoongi, I’m so sorry I dragged you into that. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just- I saw his face and I wanted to-” you sighed, struggling to explain the reason behind your split second decision to lie about the nature of your relationship.

“I understand.”

“You’re not mad?” you looked over at him in surprise.

“No. I can see the power dynamic in that house. Your family clearly has some issues they need to work out. I’m not mad.” he explained.

“I don’t deserve you,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, “you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had.”

“Dang, that bar is set pretty low, Y/N.” he joked.

You slapped his arm playfully with a grin lighting up your face, suddenly feeling much lighter than you had moments ago.

“How about I pay for pizza tonight as a thank you?” you offered, gazing up at him.

“As long as there’s pineapple on it.” he smirked.

“Half and half.”

Seasons changed, the air turned colder, the leaves on the trees transitioning from vibrant green to deep golden yellows and reds before fading away altogether as the harsh winter breeze bagan to set in. Each new day, you learned more about Yoongi, and the two of you grew closer. Yoongi was respectful of your space and time. He would notice when you were having a bad day and do little things you almost didn’t notice to help you out and reduce your stress. He’d pick up your favorite tea on his way home from work or invite you to watch a movie you knew he wouldn’t have watched on his own.

You tried to show him the same level of respect, like making sure there was fresh coffee for him in the morning, or packing his lunch when he was running late. The more time you spent with Yoongi, the more you adored him. Possibly a little too much… You’d known from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was gorgeous, but you didn’t think it would be so distracting.

Oftentimes, you’d find yourself staring at the way Yoongi’s lips moved while he talked, or watching the way his muscles flexed while he wrote. Your breath would hitch when your bodies brushed against each other in the hallway or maneuvering around the kitchen together. You’d try to slip past him and his hands would reflexively find your hips to steady you and guide you past him. Sparks would shoot through your veins any time his skin touched yours, a warm tingle left wherever his touch had been.

Your eyes would linger a second too long when he’d come out of the bathroom in a towel, or when he’d stretch during your frequent binge watching sessions, the hem of his shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of gorgeous ivory skin. Your mouth would water on the occasions when his hip tattoo would be revealed if his sweats hung a little too low. Sometimes you swore he was doing it on purpose, when you’d look up to find him watching you with an amused expression and you’d tear your eyes away as your cheeks filled with heat.

Yoongi never called you out for gawking at him, he’d simply raise an eyebrow and his delicious lips would turn up in an amused smirk. You weren’t the only one who got caught staring though. You noticed his eyes on you when you would bend over to grab a water from the fridge, or his gaze trailing down your neck towards your breasts when you’d come home sweaty from a run. You pretended not to notice, but you saw the way his eyes would linger.

You danced around each other like that, somehow simultaneously completely at ease and growing closer with each passing day but incredibly bothered with tension and desire. Or perhaps it was all in your head, wishful thinking on your part. You couldn’t count on all your fingers and toes the amount of times Yoongi’s name would fall from your lips in pathetic whimpers while you attempted to keep quiet whilst touching yourself under the covers in your room.

You tried to act like nothing had changed, which is why when Yoongi invited you to watch a movie with him, you’d snuggled up to him on the couch, just like always, a thick blanket wrapping the two of you in warmth. Your head rested on his shoulder and his hand on your knee, the heat from his skin on yours causing other areas of your anatomy to warm up as well. It was hard paying attention to the screen when you could feel the warmth of his skin seeping through your jeans where his hand met your knee but you did your best.

You watched as the main characters began taking their clothes off and tensed up awkwardly, looking up at Yoongi to ask if he wanted anything to drink… at the same time he’d glanced down to ask if you wanted more popcorn. Your faces were mere centimeters away, you could feel his hot breath ghosting against your lips, your gazes locked. Your heart skipped a beat and time seemed to slow, and you could have sworn he’d begun leaning in, but a loud crash in the movie startled you both out of your moment, and you’d pulled away with an awkward cough.

Yoongi scratched the back of his neck and avoided eye contact, and you’d stood up, using his leg as leverage, but your hand slipped and glided up his thigh, almost making contact with his crotch. You wretched your hand away like you’d been burned and mumbled something about a refill before making a beeline for the kitchen. Hand over your heart, free hand resting on the counter to hold yourself up while you struggled to regulate your heartbeat, you closed your eyes and took deep breaths.

Was Yoongi about to kiss you? Surely not, but the way your eyes had connected, the sparks his intense gaze had sent down your spine… you shivered. You refilled your water and grabbed a new drink for Yoongi before making your way back to the living room, sitting a few inches from him and extending out your offering to him, which he took with a quiet “thanks.”

The air was thick and uncomfortable, the lingering tension from the almost-kiss nearly suffocating the both of you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when your phone started ringing, a FaceTime call from your mom. You sat up and sent a panicked look towards Yoongi, who glanced at the screen before scooting closer to you, and pressing the answer button.

“Hi mom!”

“Hello, love. Oh. I see Yoongi is with you. Hello, Yoongi.” she smiled politely.

“Hello, ma’am.”

“Y/N, I packed up some more of your stuff, I felt awful for how the other day went and I wanted to apologize. I talked to your father as well, and… you know how he is. I want to support you and if Yoongi makes you happy, I want to get to know him. I miss you.” she rambled, clearly nervous.

“Oh mom… thank you. I really appreciate that.”

“I do have to admit though, I was very surprised that you two were together, it just seemed so… unexpected. You usually go for a more clean cut kind of guy…”

“Well, you know what they say, opposites attract.” Yoongi supplied with a charming smile after sensing your body stiffen.

“That they do!” your mom agreed with a giggle, “it just didn’t seem real at first, I suppose.”

You shot Yoongi a panicked glance out of the frame of the camera, silently begging him to turn up the PDA. His lip was tucked between his teeth in nervousness, but he let it slide free and steeled himself before leaning in and brushing a gentle kiss to your cheek. Which would’ve been a great plan, had that not been the exact moment you’d decided to turn your head to look at him.

His lips met yours for the briefest moment, the most tender ghost of a touch, but it lit your insides aflame. Your heart pounded erratically, your chest tightening, and the air seeming to have been stolen from your lungs. Your arm holding your phone grew slack, and you dropped it onto the couch cushion, your hand instinctively placing itself upon Yoongi’s firm chest. The kiss lasted mere seconds, but with the way time stilled around you, it might as well have been hours. His soft lips pressed so delicately to yours suspended gravity itself, and you were floating on cloud nine.

“Y/N? Hello?”

The two of you broke apart in shock, springing away from each other like magnets with the same charge, eyes wide and breathing heavy as you stared at one another. Moments passed with your heartbeat pounding in your ear like a drum before you came to your senses and picked your phone up.

“Sorry mom. Can I call you back?”

“Oh sure, love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

Yoongi had taken your momentary distraction as an excuse to escape to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room with wide eyes and fingertips pressed to your lips in shock. Your lips had barely touched and it felt like your worlds had collided, two missing pieces finally coming together. And it was terrifying, so you decided not to dwell on it, you’d deal with it when the time came.

That didn’t stop you from replaying the moment in your head for the rest of the night, however. Laying in your bed with Yoongi just one wall away, you wondered if he was thinking about the kiss, if he was thinking about you too. Shoving the hopeful thoughts from your mind, you let yourself drift to sleep.

You weren’t sure why you’d agreed to spend the holiday with your family, but your mother’s persistent guilt trip over the past few weeks had worn your resistance thin. Yoongi’s family was back in Korea so he didn’t have any other plans, usually opting to spend Christmas alone with a bottle of bourbon and leftover takeout. He’d agreed to be your buffer between yourself and your father and accompany you to the hellscape that was your old home.

Snow had already begun to softly drift from the skies, so Yoongi had reminded you about ten times to dress warm so you didn’t catch a cold. Upon the 8th reminder, you’d snarkily shot back “yes daddy.” and rolled your eyes, stomping off to pull on your gloves. Yoongi had frozen in place, jaw slack as his eyes bored into the back of your head. You paid him no mind, wrapping a scarf around your neck and tucking it into your coat before pulling on your hat.

“Are you coming?” you asked, your eyes warily running along Yoongi’s rigid body as he stood there with his eyes closed taking deep breaths.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you down there.” he tossed you the keys so you could unlock the car he’d started a few minutes beforehand, making sure it was warmed up.

You trudged down to the car, dragging your purse and the pie you were meant to bring to the occasion, sliding into Yoongi’s passenger seat and placing your hands against the vents for the warm air. A few minutes later, Yoongi joined you, much more relaxed than before. You sent him a hopeful smile and rested your hand on his knee.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course. I’ve got your back.” he shrugged, backing out of the space carefully.

You watched the scenery as Yoongi drove, noting how the snow had dusted the trees with a beautiful blanket, making everything brighter, almost as if it sparkled. You loved the snow as a kid and you loved it still, a fond nostalgia settling in your chest until you noticed you were getting closer to your parents house. Your grip returned on Yoongi’s knee and he tensed a bit before placing his free hand on top of yours.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m right here,” he soothed, then wiggled his eyebrows playfully “plus your mom approves of your boyfriend now.”

“She loves you more than me now.” you pouted.

“Well, I am pretty irresistible.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” you threw back.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you checking me out, babe.” he smirked, emphasizing the last word as you both walked up to the front door, Yoongi’s hand reaching out to knock gently.

“Shut up.” you crossed your arms defiantly.

Yoongi poked at your side, almost making you drop your pie, but he saved it at the last minute by reaching out and grabbing it from you. This caused his face to be just inches from yours and your eyes locked for a moment and you swear time stopped. Your heart was pounding in your chest as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips momentarily, and you sucked in a breath in anticipation. It might have been your imagination, but Yoongi seemed to get a little closer to your parted, waiting lips before your mom opened the door. The two of you sprung apart like you’d been caught at a crime scene.

“Well don’t stop on my account.” your mom giggled, sending you a playful wink before beckoning you inside.

You avoided eye contact with Yoongi and tried to take steady breaths to calm your racing heart, your mind going a mile a minute. Was he about to kiss you? Surely not. You were play dating, and no one was watching. Did he want to kiss you? Your cheeks were on fire and you were honestly a little riled up, pressing your thighs together discreetly. You handed your mom the pie, which she sliced and set on the table.

“Merry Christmas, mom. Where’s dad?”

“Oh he’s taking a nap. Yoongi, come over here! I want to get a picture of you two together!” your mom grinned.

“What are you, best friends now? You guys video chat at least once a week.” you whined.

Your mom waved you off and held her camera up while Yoongi stood beside you, giving you plenty of room.

“Scoot closer. You’re boyfriend and girlfriend, not awkward preteens.” your mom huffed.

Yoongi stepped closer and put an arm around your shoulder, leaning in and smiling for the camera. You heard the shutter go off a few times, attempting to pull away.

“Wait. Let’s get one of you kissing his cheek, Y/N!” your mom gushed.

“Moooooom.”

“Do it.” she chided.

You sighed and glanced up at Yoongi in silent apology, but he only lent over and offered you his cheek. You gently pressed your lips to it, feeling the skin tingle where it met his. The tips of Yoongi’s ears were suspiciously pink, but you paid it no mind. He was probably uncomfortable. Your mom snapped a few pictures and smiled to herself.

“You two act like you’ve never touched each other.” she commented offhandedly while turning around to place her phone on the charger.

“Yoongi’s not a fan of PDA.” you covered smoothly.

“When I was your age my man couldn’t keep his hands off of me.” she shrugged.

“MOM!”

“What? It’s true. Young men always have a one track mind.”

You covered your face with your hands, and your mom laughed. Yoongi wrapped his arms around you from behind, shielding you with his body.

“Don’t be shy babe. I just wanted to be respectful around your mom but she doesn’t seem to care.” he spoke, allowing his lips to graze along the shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run through your body.

Yoongi smirked and kissed your cheek before letting you go, standing up straighter. You glanced where he was staring and your dad was making his way down the hall to join everyone.

“Merry Christmas, dad.” you said politely.

“Merry Christmas.” he responded, his tone a little stiff and uncomfortable.

He wasn’t showing clear distaste for you or Yoongi, so you took it as a win. Your mom must have had a talk with him. You silently thanked her and took your seat beside Yoongi at the table. Dinner was pretty uneventful, light small talk that your father barely participated in and Yoongi relentlessly complimenting your mom on her cooking skills, telling her how delicious the food was and how he needed the recipes.

After dinner, you all sat around the tree and opened gifts, your father having gifted your mother a lovely pearl necklace, your mother giving your father a new watch. You’d gifted your mom a foot massager that looked like slippers you’d seen at the mall, and your father a new set of tools, knowing his were beginning to wear. You’d gifted Yoongi a gift card to his favorite store at the mall, and he’d given you a beautiful bracelet he saw you eyeing a few weeks back.

The last gift to be opened had been a pair of matching couple’s pajamas for you and Yoongi, a red and white plaid design that was actually kind of cute. Your mom made you hold them up and take a picture together, ignoring your protests that she had taken plenty of pictures beforehand. Packing everything up and getting ready to go, you looked up between your parents and sighed contentedly.

“This was nice, getting along,” you smiled at your mom, standing up and dusting off your skirt, “we’ll be sure to visit soon.”

Your mom leaned in for a hug from both of you while your dad stood silently off to the side, hands at his sides, fingers twitching slightly like he was unsure if he should lean in as well or not. Swallowing your pride because it was Christmas, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him. He gently patted your back a few times before stepping back.

“See you around, dad. Merry Christmas.” you spoke softly.

“Merry Christmas.” he repeated, looking away uncomfortably.

You sighed and took Yoongi’s hand in your own, gazing up at him in a silent question. He smiled and pulled you towards the door. The second he opened the entrance, snow blew into the living room from the force of the wind, and Yoongi quickly shut the door, having to put in more strength than usual with how hard the wind was blowing.

“Wow, it’s really coming down hard out there.” your mom commented, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Does your vehicle have four wheel drive?” your dad asked.

“Um… no.” Yoongi scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Oh there is no way I’m letting you drive in this!” your mother gasped.

“Mom, we have to go home. I’m sure we can drive slow.” you reasoned, though your nerves about the weather were grating at you.

“Absolutely not. You’ll stay here.” she commanded.

“YN… your mom is probably right. It looks pretty bad out there. I don’t think it would be safe…” Yoongi said quietly.

You sighed, resigning to your fate and nodded, setting your purse back on the coat rack and removing your jacket. Yoongi followed suit, shedding his coat and hanging it up, smiling apologetically in your direction. Your father had already retreated back to his bedroom to clean up for the night.

“Are the spare blankets still in the hall closet?” you asked your mom.

“Yes, why?” she wondered.

“I was going to grab one, Yoongi or I will probably be sleeping on the couch.”

“That couch is not comfortable enough to sleep on. It’s not like I don’t know you sleep together at home.” she scoffed.

Your cheeks lit up brighter than the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and you didn’t dare look at Yoongi. Your mom laughed at your reaction, rolling her eyes and walking down the hall.

“Goodnight, see you in the morning.” she called over her shoulder.

The two of you stood there silently for a moment before you coughed and gestured for him to follow you to your old bedroom. Most of your stuff had been taken to your apartment by that point, so it was mostly just your old bed and an empty dresser with a lamp on it. You glanced down at the full sized bed, which had enough room for the two of you, but barely enough to ensure that you wouldn’t end up touching.

“Do you care which side?” you wondered, finally looking up to meet Yoongi’s gaze.

“No, it doesn’t matter to me.” he shrugged.

“Okay. You can go change first.” you offered.

Yoongi nodded and disappeared down the hallway to change into the pajamas your mother had gifted the both of you previously in the night. You decided to go ahead and rush through changing while Yoongi was gone, slipping on the matching pair and crawling into bed. The two of you laid straight on your backs, staring at the ceiling for a while.

“I’m sorry about this.” you mumbled quietly.

“It’s okay, really.”

You didn’t remember falling asleep so soon, but you woke up to a pitch black room with something warm and firm pressed up against your back. You snuggled closer to the warmth in the freezing room and were met with a low groan and something a solid pressing against your backside.

“Nnnngh.” Yoongi whined, half-asleep, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you flush against him.

You froze, trying not to rub against Yoongi’s erection that was pressing into your ass, but that didn’t stop the shiver from traveling through your body. With great effort, you managed to turn yourself around in Yoongi’s arms so you were facing him, watching his serene facial expressions in his slumber.

Yoongi really was a beautiful man. You watched him take slow, steady breaths, his face illuminated by the moonlight trickling in between the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him, feel his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, but you didn’t dare in case you woke him.

His body shuffled closer to yours once more, his arms tightening around you until your noses were nearly touching and you had to hold in a gasp. There was no way this would be happening if Yoongi had been conscious, and you weren’t sure if you should let him sleep or alert him to what he was doing. You couldn’t help being slightly elated at the situation though, being this close to Yoongi and being able to study his features without fear of looking weird, and the way his groin felt pressed against your lower stomach wasn’t something you’d complain about either.

You decided you should probably stop taking advantage of his unconscious state and attempted to climb over him to get out of bed without disturbing him. Just as you’d swung your leg over his body, he turned in his sleep, flipping onto his back, effectively knocking you off balance until you landed atop his chest, your legs straddling his hips.

You glanced up at his face and your eyes met, faces mirroring expressions of shock. You were both frozen in place for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. You snapped out of it and tried to climb off of Yoongi’s hips, just as Yoongi tried to sit up, so all the two of you accomplished was grinding your core against Yoongi’s erection. Yoongi let out a strangled moan, reaching out to grab your hips to hold you still.

His fingers gripped the skin of your hips where your shirt had ridden up, and his touch burned in the best way. You fought back a whimper at the delicious feeling, your hips stilling in his iron grasp. The air in the room changed, getting thicker. You swore you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Your racing heart skipped a beat as Yoongi’s eyes traveled down your body until they rested where your core met his length. He shivered. You gulped. Once again, you attempted to flee your current position.

“Please- don’t move,” Yoongi whined, almost desperately, “you’re making it worse.”

“I know I’m irresistible.” you chuckled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood.

“You really are.”

Your brows rose in surprise at the earnest tone he spoke in, his voice bordering desperate. Your mouth slightly agape, you searched his eyes for confirmation he wasn’t joking. He smirked and sat up, holding you against him as his lips ghosted along your neck, barely brushing against your skin. His hot breath fanning against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers dug into your sides almost demandingly, and he let out a low, animalistic growl.

“You don’t even realize what you do to me… how much you tempt me. I see the way you look at me, the way your eyes linger. You’re anything but subtle. I’ve tried so hard to hold back… If we weren’t at your parents house, I’d fuck you so hard you’d forget your name…” Yoongi’s voice was low and quiet, and you let out an involuntary whimper at his words, causing his eyes to darken and a smirk to play on his pretty lips, “but maybe you’d like that, maybe you want them to hear, you want them to know what a dirty slut you can be, wanna show them who you belong to. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby girl?” he purred, rocking his hips up into yours, letting his rock-hard member drag deliciously against your covered folds.

“Oh fuck… yes.” you whimpered, all sense of dignity flying out the window at his dirty words.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this for so long.” he groaned, using his hands to guide your hips along his length.

“Me too.” you whimpered, falling forward and placing your hands on the defined planes of his chest, feeling it rise and fall as quickly as yours.

You allowed your hands to wander underneath his sleep shirt, feeling his warm skin against your own, slowly dragging your digits along his torso and teasingly letting your nails scrape gently against his nipples. Yoongi watched with rapt attention as you explored his body, relishing in the way you attempted to memorize every inch your eyes could devour.

His fingers dug into your hips when you flicked your thumb over his nipple, and you smiled innocently before dragging your hands down to the waistband of his pajama pants, gently lifting the elastic and letting it snap back against his skin, causing him to buck his hips up into yours. His hands traveled up your hips to grip the hem of your shirt, pausing and meeting your gaze to make sure you were alright, and you nodded, placing your hands on his and guiding them to remove the fabric, revealing your bare breasts underneath. Yoongi sucked in a breath, a low whine escaping as he released it.

His hands immediately found purchase on your breasts, his thumb and index finger rolling your hardened nipple. You let your head fall back as electricity shot straight to your core at his actions. You felt him move below you, sitting up in order to take one of your pert nipples into his waiting mouth. His warm tongue worked against the sensitive bud, alternating between licking and sucking while he worked the neglected nipple between his fingers. Your breathing grew shallower, your whines needier, and you felt Yoongi smirking against your skin, releasing your abused flesh with an audible pop.

“You fall apart so easily for me… who could’ve guessed you’d be such a responsive, cock hungry little thing.” he mused while allowing his hands to travel down your stomach, so close to where you needed stimulation.

“Yoongi please…”

“Fuck, say it again. My name sounds so much better coming from your pretty lips.”

“Yoongi.” you moaned, nearly breathless. “Please.”

In an instant, Yoongi had you flipped over, resting on your back as he hovered over you, his hungry gaze trailing over your chest and traveling down. He tugged on the waistband of your pajamas, pulling them down past the swell of your ass, then helping you kick them off and aside, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

“Wanna see you, Yoongi.” you pleaded, tugging on the hem of his shirt.

He quickly obliged, whipping it off and tossing it aside, revealing his expanse of glorious ivory skin to you. Your gaze traveled down the expanse of his torso, tracing over the intricate designs that decorated his skin in awe. You’d seen glimpses, when he’d been in just a towel, or stripping off his shirt at the washing machine, but you’d never gotten a good look up close.

You tentatively lifted your fingers, your index gently tracing the inky black lines as tenderly as you could, barely a ghost of a touch as you admired the beautiful artwork that so perfectly suited such a beautiful man. Yoongi shivered at your touch, watching you study his ink with such wonder in your eyes pulled at his heart strings, reminding him exactly why he’d fallen for you in the first place.

“When we have more time, I want to hear all about these,” you mused quietly, “what they mean, when you got them, I want to know everything.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know baby,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “but for now…” he trailed off, slowly moving his body down, kissing a path from your lips down your front until he reached the elastic band of your panties.

He teasingly ran his finger under the elastic, grinning up at your from his spot between your thighs before pulling the garment from your body and tossing it aside, revealing your soaking pussy to him. You tried to close your legs from embarrassment, but Yoongi gently slid his hands up your thighs, gently kneading the flesh there.

“So beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” he cooed, kissing a line from your thigh to your folds, causing you to let out a pleased sigh and spread your legs further for him, “mmm… good girl.”

He rewarded you by licking a long stripe up your slit, gathering your slick on his tongue and making a pleased noise in the back of his throat before diving in, working his warm muscle against your clit in different motions, alternating between sucking it between plump lips, licking broad stripes against it, and drawing figures with the tip of his tongue.

Using your pleasure as a distraction, he slowly eased a finger inside of your entrance, your slick aiding him with the welcome intrusion. He curled his finger and made come hither motions, repeatedly rubbing the pad of his finger against your weakest spot, and it took everything inside of you not to cry out at the intense fire burning in your core as he worked you closer to your first release. He slowly added a second finger, then a third, scissoring you open and prepping you for his cock.

Just the thought of the thick member you’d felt pressing against your lower back earlier nestled deep inside you had you drooling, and Yoongi’s skills with his mouth and fingers were certainly not hurting. Quiet whimpers escaped your lips as you fought the urge to buck your hips up into his mouth as your climax came closer and closer. Yoongi noticed your needy behavior and sped up his actions, working you towards your release.

You bit down on your fingers to stifle the loud moans that threatened to spill from your lips, even in your lust clouded mind, the last thing you needed was to be interrupted before you could get Yoongi inside of you. As your orgasm crashed over you from Yoongi’s ministrations, your back arched off the bed and you nearly drew blood from how hard you had to bite down to keep quiet, your body shaking as you came down from euphoria.

Yoongi kissed his way back up your body, finally becoming eye-level with you, smirking at your fucked out state and heavy breathing. You laughed and hid your face in the crook of his neck, drawing his body closer to yours in an attempt to hide. Yoongi’s low chuckles reverberated, shaking the bed slightly. Your hands traveled from being wrapped around his neck, slowly trailing down his back and pulling on the elastic of his pajama bottoms, desperate to lay eyes on his thick cock, which was pressed into your hip.

“Yoongi… need you. Need you so bad.” you begged.

Yoongi’s cock twitched in his pj’s, and he assisted you with ridding him of them and his boxers in one go, allowing his cock to spring free and slap against his stomach in all its glory. You were absolutely salivating as you looked at the reddened tip, leaking precum, the long shaft, and you couldn’t wait to feel him filling you up.

“Ready, princess?” he wondered, lining his member up with your entrance after gathering your slick to coat the head.

“So ready. Please fuck me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi slowly pushed himself inside your entrance, stretching your walls in the most delicious way. He took his time, periodically checking your expression for discomfort as he impaled you with his length. Your breathing was erratic, you were clutching onto his back for dear life as he split you open, eventually bottoming out. Yoongi stretched you out in all the best ways, filling you up better than any man had ever dreamed of before, and you were living for it.

You rocked your hips up into his, begging him to move, and Yoongi slowly pulled out until just the tip was sheathed inside your warmth before pushing back in, gaining more speed as he went. You couldn’t help the pathetic whines and moans that fell from your lips as Yoongi worked his hips, thrusting into you at a punishing pace. Every rock of his hips had the tip of his cock meeting your cervix, the powerful thrusts sending you closer and closer to oblivion.

“Fuck, babygirl, you look so sexy like this, taking my cock so well… like you were made for me. So fucking perfect.” Yoongi whispered hotly in your ear, licking a bold stripe along the shell, sending shivers coursing through your body.

“Yoongi, fuck.”

“That’s it baby, who’s making you feel this good?” he accentuated the last word with a harder thrust that sent your body a little farther up the bed.

“You, Yoongi! Oh oh o-oh..” your whines grow louder and Yoongi quickly covered your mouth with his own in an attempt to drown out the noise, lest your parents really do hear him defiling their daughter in her childhood bedroom.

You clawed desperately at his back, trying to warn him of your impending orgasm, and Yoongi deepened the kiss in understanding, pistoning his hips with as much strength as he could muster and reaching down to roll your clit between his fingers, sending you sailing off the edge, Yoongi’s kiss stifled your scream before he soon followed you off the edge, painting your walls white with his hot release.

Yoongi pecked your lips tenderly before rolling off of you and landing on his back beside you, both of you panting and grinning like idiots. Yoongi’s cum seeped out of your battered hole, and he licked his lips at the sight, causing you to cover your face and giggle. He stood, walking into the bathroom and dampening a washcloth to clean you up as gently as he could before tossing it into the hamper and resuming his position on his side of the bed.

The sun was just beginning to rise and shine through the blinds as you lay beside Yoongi, still catching your breath. You glanced over at Yoongi to find he was already looking at you. He gave you a shy, tentative smile.

“So…” he trailed off.

“So…?”

Yoongi sighed and sat up, urging you to follow suit so you could both talk. You followed his instructions, wincing slightly. He gently reached out and took both of your hands in his larger ones, looking up to meet your gaze before he spoke quietly.

“Listen… I know this started off as a lie to piss your dad off, but… I would be lying now if i said it was still fake for me. I really like you, Y/N.. I have for a while. I don’t know when it happened but somewhere along the way, I just- I don’t know. But if you’re willing to give me a chance, a real chance, I think I could make you happy.” he spoke quietly, his eyes filled with light and hope.

“Oh Yoongi…” you sighed, cupping his cheek with your hand tenderly and smiling as he leaned subconsciously into your touch, “you already do. None of this is fake for me either, not anymore. I really, really like you.”

A soft knock on your door tore you two from your moment, your heads snapping towards the door as you pulled the blanket up to cover your breasts.

“Morning, guys, breakfast will be ready in ten.” your mom called through the wood.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to look your mom in the eye now.” Yoongi chuckled.

“She already thought we were fucking before this.” you reasoned with a smirk.

Yoongi groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck and you laughed, carding your fingers through his messy post-sex hair lovingly.

“I can’t believe you’re really mine, for real this time.” he whispered into the safety of your neck.

“And I can’t believe you’re mine… for real this time,” you grin, carding your fingers through his hair comfortingly, “let’s eat so we can go home.”

The two of you got dressed and headed out for breakfast, engaging in small talk with your mom and semi-comfortable silence with your dad. You still had a ways to go to fix that relationship, but you were pleased with the progress. You didn’t think you’d ever have a perfect relationship with your father, but you didn’t have to. You didn’t have to fix everything, or be who he wanted in order to receive love, you were slowly learning.

The roads had been salted and deemed safe to drive on, so you and Yoongi bid your parents a farewell, thanking them for letting you stay and for the gifts. Your mom pulled you into a hug, then Yoongi into one as well.

“I just love how happy you are around him, Y/N. It’s like you’re glowing. You two come visit soon, okay? I miss seeing you.” your mom spoke, holding your hand in hers.

“We will. I love you, mom.”

Yoongi reached out and you placed your hand in his, letting him lead you home.

Months later, on another lazy Sunday afternoon, you were cuddled up with your boyfriend on the couch of your shared apartment, snuggling into his chest while the two of you half paid attention to another movie on Netflix. Wrapped up in blankets and Yoongi’s arms, you’d never felt safer, more content, or so unbelievably happy.

Yoongi had your hand wrapped in his, lazily placing kisses along your wrist, palm, the tips of your fingers, anywhere his lips would reach. He wanted to shower you in kisses. You watched him with curious eyes, noting the way his own were shining as he met your gaze.

“What?” you wondered, chucking quietly.

“Say it again.”

“Yoongi,” you whined, looking up at him with a smile nonetheless, “I’ve said it like fifty times today.”

“Just one more time.”

You rolled your eyes before quietly letting the words roll off your lips like dripping honey as you pressed a kiss to his skin. “I love you, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi hummed happily, almost like a purring cat, “Mmm.. I love you too.”

You snuggled into his embrace before he spoke up once more.

“Okay, just one more time.”

You laughed and rolled over so you were straddling him, reaching down and squishing his cheeks together before pressing your lips to his.

“I love you.” you giggled, pecking his lips once more, then repeating the words and actions over and over and over again.

“I love you I love you I love you I love you.” you peppered kisses all over his face, any part of it you could reach until your boyfriend was a mess beneath you, laughing and blushing with the biggest gummy smile on his face.

Every once in a while, you meet someone you instantly connect with. Every so often you cross paths with someone you’re just meant to meet. But, once in a lifetime, you meet someone who makes your soul feel whole again. You see a face in the crowd and instantly feel at home. You hear their laugh one time and suddenly the world has color again. Once in a lifetime, you meet someone who doesn’t save you, but holds you steady while you gather the strength you need to save yourself.

Min Yoongi is that person for you.

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

Note

Can you write QOT MC betraying Glided Poppy by selling them out to FBI and stealing everything they earned and also joining Flashpoint to work with Nadia. This broke Vivienne’s heart as she gets arrested along the crew. Make it angsty as possible lol and thanks!

“You know what you want, don’t you?”

You let out a soft exhale, feeling more and more irritated with each word the other woman spoke. “I’m not playing your games, Nadia.”

“Stop lying to yourself. Tell me. What do you want?”

“For you to leave me alone.”

Nadia’s ice-cold eyes glimmer with amusement. “Quite feisty, aren’t we?” She twirls her knife with practiced ease, her smirk firmly in place. “You don’t want to play by their rules anymore, do you? They could accomplish so much more if only they ignored that pesky moral code of theirs… Vivienne especially. You think so too, yes?”

“Rules are necessary.”

“They are boring. Meant to be broken.”

“If you take those kinds of risks, you’re only asking to get caught.”

“Risks, you say…” She lets out a small chuckle. Leans back against Madame Bisset’s desk, angling herself just so. Her eyes and suit catch the light from the windows and seem to glow, and you are briefly distracted by them. By how powerful and ethereal she looks right now, wrapped in that eerie halo of light like some sort of mythical creature. It takes your breath away. Makes it impossible to look anywhere else but those enthralling, shining blue eyes. “But if I hadn’t taken that ‘risk’ with Inez, where would you be now?”

“I… what?”

“She was a dangerous woman. She’d have taken revenge on each of you. As amusing as it would have been to watch, it makes for a rather flimsy finale. Imagine the Gilded Poppy, only the best of the best, crushed by a mere writer. How insulting. If anyone is going to take them down, it should be another thief, not a weak little mark. And who better that someone who they trust completely, hm?”

“You… you want me to betray-”

“Oh, that’s not what I want. That’s what you want.”

The look of fascination on your face quickly morphs into barely hidden disgust. You’re almost trembling with anger. “How… how dare you-”

“Yes, how dare I speak your thoughts so clearly. Are you still in denial, perhaps? Still trying to convince yourself playing by the rules is the best course of action?”

“Don’t speak as if you know me.” You snarl, seething in rage. Nadia’s smirk doesn’t waver. She just tilts her head slightly and looks at you like a teacher would to an inexperienced student. It only makes you want to wipe that smug expression off her face even more, but the knife in her hand makes you stay where you are, fists tense against your sides, nails digging into your skin. “I’m not going to betray them.”

“So you say.” Nadia pushes herself off Madame Bisset’s desk, walking like someone who owns the world. She’s heading for the door, everything in her demeanor signaling the conversation is over. When she passes by you, she lingers just enough to slide a card into your pocket, meeting your gaze the whole time. “Call me when you accept the truth. I’ll be waiting. Just think, who’d you rather be with? Someone who could be hunted or someone who does the hunting?”

Moments later, when Nadia is but a bitter memory, Vivienne enters the room with her usual confident stride. Her presence does little to ease the complicated feelings swirling inside of you.

“Is everything all right?” She asks, her concern open and true. It’s when you turn to look at her – at the paper in her hands, signaling her part of the con – that you begin to wonder if Nadia is right. If Inez would have hunted them down. The Gilded Poppy didn’t kill. That rule would have been their demise.

“…Yes. Everything is fine.”

At least, everything would be.

…

“Was I wrong?” Nadia’s voice washes over you, grounding you, keeping you in the present and not memories of nights with the Gilded Poppy. Their laughs. Their voices. Their excitement for an upcoming heist. Their beautiful, annoying rules.

You let Nadia act as your anchor, as you look down at the street. You’re in an apartment just in front of the Gilded Poppy headquarters, watching them being taken away by the FBI. Technically, the apartment was occupied by a couple, both just fresh from college and eager to start their life together, but that’s hardly an impediment. They are both unconscious in their room, not likely to wake up at any time soon, and so you can watch the arrest without any interruptions. It’s amazing how much freedom you have, when you don’t need to worry about rules and morals.

“You weren’t.”

Nadia’s smile is almost blinding. “Perfect. I hardly ever am.”

…

“I thought you had a seventh member?” The investigator in front of Vivienne asks, squinting at the list in his hand, and the seductress does everything in her power not to flinch. Yes, they had a seventh member. She looked so kind, acted so innocently, enjoyed the thrill of a heist as much as any of them… but clearly, she enjoyed it far too much.

How could someone so sweet fall so low?

“We did.” She answers in a broken murmur, remembering her laugh. Her voice. Her pretty, honest, warm eyes. Her beautiful, once pure smile. “She’s the one who sold us out, actually.”

“Oh.” The investigator says, nodding. “That’s why you can never trust a thief.” He says, in a vehement tone of voice. Vivienne almost wants to scream that it hadn’t been like that, at the beginning. Wants to trash against the cuffs restraining her while she tells them their forger had been an entirely different person then. She had been someone that had snuck past Vivienne’s walls and charmed her with her clear, vibrant sincerity. Someone that had proven to the Gilded Poppy over and over again how valuable she was, not just as a thief, but as a friend.

But she doesn’t say anything, because it’s no longer true. Just lets the investigator keep talking while she sits there in silent agony.

“What she did won’t keep us from finding her, though. She’ll get no special treatment.”

Jett snorts, somewhere behind her. “Yeah, good luck with that, mate. The group she belongs to now aren’t people you should mess with.”

The investigator dismisses Jett’s claim with a small, unconcerned shrug. Turns around to level an uninterested glare at their living room, currently infested with various members of the law. “Where is everything you stole, anyway? There’s only a couple of paintings here.”

“She took everything with her.” Remy answers, scowling at nothing in particular.

The investigator looks at them with suspicion. “Did she, now? She just sold out her accomplices and escaped with the goods?” He scoffs. “Well. Catching her is only a matter of time, then.”

Vivienne grits her teeth and looks away. Her whole soul aches with the pain of betrayal, as if it were a physical wound that becomes more painful and deep with each heartbeat, a wound that begins from her chest and grows wider with every breath she takes. She shivers, feeling the sharp pressure of metal on her wrists.

She doesn’t want to carry this pain anymore, not when doing so means acknowledging the betrayal. She doesn’t want to think of this as true, not when, just a few months ago, everything was going so well… where had they gone wrong…?

Why, just why, would someone so sweet…

“...fall so low…?”

#Anonymous #angst #vivienne x reader #vivienne tang #lovestruck #vivienne x mc #qot #qot vivienne #woeful wednesday

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inforapound · 5 years ago

Text

Emboîté Part 1

A/N - I sat down to write a one-shot for @youbloodymadgenius‘s 400 writing celebration and I accidentally wrote 19k words of the sappiest, fluffiest modern Ivar. I love you @youbloodymadgenius. Series is pretty much done so I will post a couple of chapters a week - 6 parts total. Please see warnings.

Pairing – Ivar and Sarah (Aethelswith)

Words – 1,500 approx

Series Warning – explicit smut, dance industry inaccuracies, fluffy Ivar, possessive Ivar, semi-slow burn, ‘baby’ used as a term of endearment.

When our eyes met through the crowded reception, it startled me. It was the bleakness of his expression. As if he had just received bad news and his body was yet to react. I didn’t mean for my eyes to linger but I was curious. Somehow drawn. The emotion just under the surface of his face held my eyes to his and I couldn’t turn away. When he looked away first, I felt almost jarred, like someone had snapped their fingers in front of me. It was the strangest thing.

---

“Fuck off.”

Wincing, he leaned on his crutch, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You would be less miserable if you sat down.” Taking a sip from his glass of vodka, Ubbe ignored Ivar’s glare, setting his drink down on the tall table in the cocktail area of the ballroom. “Just head to our seats,” he nodded toward the far side of the large room set up as if it were a fashion how. Chairs lined either side of a catwalk with a stage and podium behind.

“I wouldn’t have come if I knew it was going to be like this. What is taking so long?”

“Chill Ivar, it’s a benefit,” Ubbe said, his tone placating. “They want us liquored up before we bid.”

“It’s not too late for you to go,” Hvitserk chimed in, his eyes scouring the females in the room. “I’m surprised you even came.”

Grunting in the back of his throat, Ivar again shifted his weight on his cane, ignoring his drink on the table. “Our father left me chief controller, not you,” he glanced at Hvitserk. “And Freddie said we need charitable write-offs. Mom loved this place….”

“You mean we aren’t here because of your love of the fine arts?” Hvitserk smiled taking another drink but stopped and frowned. “Shouldn’t this be an open bar for how much these tickets cost? And... this is a two-night gig, there’s still that silent art auction thing in a few weeks at the gallery on Hereford.”

“Forget that,” Ivar sneered. “I’ll write the cheque tonight and that will be that.” Picking up his highball of dark liquor, he knocked it back, plunking the glass down onto the table.

---

There was no time to dissect my reaction to the striking man in a dark suit across the room. The tall, handsome Ronan Dorst approached, stopping beside me, standing so close the arm of his suit touched the skin of my shoulder. My black formal gown was not overly revealing, but I still felt a chill from the low neckline and off the shoulders cut. Looking up to him, I flashed a quick smile. Ronan’s smile was so natural, if one didn’t notice the way his eyes roamed the figures of every dancer, performer, server who passed, they would almost believe him to be a gentleman. But, I suspected differently.

“You ready to shine?”

“In truth, I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Meh,” he took a long drink, emptying half his glass. “You are used to being in front of a crowd. It’s all in fun.”

“Says the man who won’t be paraded down a stage in hopes of attracting bids for an awkward supper out with strangers. Anything for the ballet.” I groaned, fidgeting with the glass of wine in my hands. Too nervous for it to taste good.

“I will bid on you and then you won’t have to suffer through the boring dinner with the Ravenhurts. You weren’t here last year, were you?”

“No, I had just been signed.”

“They do this every year. Outbid as many as they can and then throw a large, stiff dinner party at their big house. They like to remind us, peasants, that they are the theatre’s primary donors. Relax,” he looked down, and I could feel his eyes on the skin of my chest. “I’ll rescue you.”

Comforting, I thought, taking a sip of my bitter drink. Looking over at the older couple, the man was wearing a tuxedo and his wife, a purple glittering dress that resembled a housecoat my mom used to wear. They looked sweet. And dripping with money. The entire room was dripping with money, including my charming, googly-eyed friend standing next. How much would they bid, I wondered if they saw my shitty apartment above a laundromat with a bifold door on the bathroom. My eyes skipped back to the three reserved and well-dressed men standing around a table.

“Who are those men over there not talking to anyone?”

“Where?” Ronan gawked, failing at being discreet.

“Closest to the bar.”

Straightening, he looked away, his expression sour as he took another drink. “The Lothbroks. I would suggest you not wonder over.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“You are too sweet to mix with that crowd.”

“How do you know I am sweet?”

Glancing down at me he rolled his eyes, “Nice try gorgeous.”

Continuing on, he gave me no time to ask questions.

“What kind of bid are you hoping to get? I am feeling generous,” he wiggled his eyebrows looking less and less attractive the longer we talked.

“Ugh,” I grimaced. “Giovanna is lead and Nicole has an incredible following for a second.”

“You are a second.”

“Yes, but they are stars. They can work a crowd. Mikal is a legend and Jono is a straight-up peacock. They’ll bring in the money. Jono will have eyes for all the older ladies with fat diamond rings. I will be happy if someone bids, something.”

The sound of chimes came through the speakers. It was time to be displayed like a cow at auction.

---

“Ladies and gentlemen, we now welcome one of our two understudies. All the way from Montreal, Canada, Sarah Pearson.

Oh god, I exhaled and stepped out onto the shiny surface of the stage relieved that they were clapping.

“Sarah has been with our company for one year. She….”

Tune it out, tune it out, I chanted in my mind, attempting to focus on my breath and maintain a smile. The blaring voice of our director drolled on the details of my life like it was a shopping list. I took comfort, as always, in the blinding lights. They prevented me from trying to make out the features of the faces lining the stage, staring. It all felt like some 1950’s bullshit. The music rattled on, not as loud as her voice over the microphone and I marched forward, careful not to roll an ankle. Wouldn’t that be something?

“Dancing since the age of three and from a long line of dancers, Sarah…”

Hmm, I pressed my lips together now at the halfway point on the walk pleased she left out the details of my ex-ballerina mother now permeant-couch-dweller, chain-smoking, alcoholic. She was usually surrounded by garish glamour photos of herself in a slightly rattier apartment than mine and one that always had the choking smell of ashtrays and Chantilly talc powder. Yes, that snip-it of information would not bring in the bids.

“We will start the bidding at five hundred dollars. Five hundred!’ she immediately repeated pointing in the direction of a paddle being held up in the air.

“Fifteen hundred,” a man’s voice called from somewhere on my left and I knew immediately it was Ronan.

“Three thousand,” a woman’s voice called out and I wondered if it was Mrs. Ravenhurst in her rhinestone housecoat.

It felt as though I should look over, but I pretended to be oblivious to the figures being hurled in my direction.

“Five thousand dollars,” another man spoke, his voice sounding shaky, making me think he was another one of our more elderly patrons.

“Seven thousand dollars,” Ronan interjected, and our director, turned auctioneer, all but orgasmed over the mic.

“Eight. Thousand. Dollars,” the woman called out pointedly giving the impression she would not be rattled by little boys playing with their father’s money.

Would she keep bidding, I wondered, knowing there were still nine dancers to follow?

“Ten thousand dollars!” Ronan shouted, sounding theatrical and sparking the crowd to clap and cheer.

Rounding the end of the catwalk, I began my painfully slow trip back to the stage. The auctioneer repeating and calling, ‘ten thousand going once, twice….”

“Twenty-five thousand,” an unknown voice cut through the excitement. Instinctively, my head snapped in its direction, the lights on the stage stinging my eyes. Squinting, I looked down at the floor with a large black spot in my vision unable to see who had made the bid. Stopping at center stage, I spun and lifted my face back to the crowd with a smile, listening to the applause.

“Going once!”

Our director was truly embracing the moment.

“Going twice!”

The mallet dropped with a hollow whack.

“SOLD for twenty-five thousand dollars!”

Nice to have the value of my life confirmed with the drop of a hammer.

“Ladies and gentlemen, now THAT is how you support the ballet. Yes, give our generous donor a round of applause. Thank you so much number 24. Mr.…” hesitating she looked down at her podium as if searching a list, “ah, thank you Mr. Ivar Lothbrok.”

@youbloodymadgenius @naaladareia @whenimaunicorn @lol-haha-joke @ceridwenofwales @jaydelesley4 @sweeneythots @squirrelacorngliterfarts@funmadnessandbadassvikings @fangirl-nonsense @thiahilmarsdottir @redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog @yourpurplequeen @londongal2810 @fields-and-fields-of-poppies @readsalot73 @hexqueensupreme @silly-bullshit-collector @littlecarolina94 @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @blonddnamedhandz @waiting4inspiration @flowers-in-your-hayr

#ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar fluff #ivar fanfic #modern ivar #ballet #ivar and oc #Ivar and sarah #ivar the boneless #ivar love story #ivar romance #Ivar and Aethelswith

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vecna · 5 years ago

Note

Oohh for the fandom meme! Dragon Age?

Send me a fandom!

Oh boy, this is going to be spicy.

It’s also very Anders-negative, so apologies up front.

The character(s) I first fell in love with:

I’m actually not sure which was the FIRST, but it’s a tie between Morrigan and Alistair. I saw fanart of them going around at the time Origins first released, and that’s what got me to try the game!

Alistair was a breath of fresh air, because at the time, I was used to warrior men in games being all Edgy and Rough, and he was the total opposite and a sweetheart.

And Morrigan was just instantly my goth wife, and had Claudia Black as a VA, so I was sold immediately.

Both still hold a special place for me!

The character(s) I never expected to love as much as I do now:

Loghain is the main one. He does a lot of truly reprehensible shit in the first game. But once I sat down and read the prequel novels about young Loghain, plus saw what he’s like if you recruit him, he grew on me A LOT and now he’s a top fave.

Nathaniel I expected to hate as soon as I saw his name + who his father was, but then the expansion came out and I ended up loving that dude almost immediately. I really wish he was around more after Awakening, and also really wish he’d been a romance option, especially for a Cousland haha.

Merrill is a weird one because she was totally uninteresting to me in DA:O, so when they announced her as a companion in DA2 I was like, “Ehhhh.” Then they punked me by making her adorable and sweet and now I love her.

Plus a bunch of side-characters like The Architect? I liked him a bunch in the novel + Awakening – although I found his Plan in the novel much more appealing. But as the years have gone by, I keep surprising myself at just HOW disappointed I am he’s never appeared again haha.

The character(s) everyone else loves that I don’t:

There’s a few, and all of them will get me yelled at, but here we go.

First: Isabela. This one’s a bit complicated, but it really just boils down to her attitude towards how you play your character. I actively dislike characters who are super sexual – regardless of gender. But Isabela in particular bothers me because she’s constantly pushing her lewdness and sexual humor on you, and when you try to discourage it, she admonishes you with, “Well, you’re no fun.” Her whole character is just… like that for me. Super pushy, overly lewd, gets uppity when you don’t have the same ~liberated~ opinions she does, and this is all played up in the writing like she’s this Empowered Woman the player absolutely must love, especially if they’re playing a male character lol. I hate her for the same reasons a lot of people hate Liara in Mass Effect, but with the addition of pushy lewd jokey characters always rubbing me the wrong way.

Second: Iron Bull. I’ve written a lot about why he makes me more uncomfortable than any fictional character I’ve ever encountered, and I just outright hate him, he makes my skin crawl. If you want details, feel free to DM me, I don’t really want to rant about it again publicly.

Third: Anders. Again, I’ve written a lot about him before, but. I hated him in Awakening, for a lot of the same reasons I hate Isabela in DA2. But the changes they made to him in DA2 are just kinda :/. While I absolutely agree with him about Mage Rights, the level of preachiness they added to him drove me nuts, and the fact that you’re painted as a Bad Guy if you don’t like him blowing up the chantry. And from a purely OOC standpoint: He’s become a figurehead for all the aggressive Discourse people in the fandom, and if I see someone list Anders in their sidebar bio, I know pre-emptively that their blog is going to be full of 6 page long essays of meta about how everything is Problematic, and no thanks.

To a lesser extent, I’m also not fond of Zevran. But in his case, it’s not anything major like the others, I’m just tired of Bioware’s habit of making the bisexual characters overly lewd sex-focused rogues/deviants.

The character(s) I love that everyone else hates:

Loghain, lol.

But also Sebastian Vael? There’s so much about him that I find genuinely fascinating, especially regarding his backstory, and his struggles between his feelings of responsibility to his family vs his dedication to the Chantry and bettering himself. He’s such a dear character to me, and such a pivotal part of any playthrough, I’m always blown away when I remember he’s a DLC character and many people don’t have him.

HOWEVER Anders being the fandom darling means that people tend to unfairly shit on Sebastian for reacting poorly to the Chantry explosion. People also like to label him as a poster child of a White Straight Church Boy, while refusing to acknowledge he’s… not straight, and not exactly a church boy either lol.

Also Vivienne, but I think that one’s really self-explanatory. I love her, and she gives a really needed perspective on the Circle, since most of the mage companions previously were apostates. But of course, she gets written off as a Chantry apologist, and an uppity bitch, when people would def love her for the same traits if she was not black lol.

The character(s) I used to love but don’t any longer:

Justice. And by extension, Anders. A lot of people like to rant about how Justice ruined Anders, but I always saw it the other way around.Justice was my favorite character in Awakening. The whole concept around him, that he was a Fade spirit who took human form and was experiencing life for the first time was SO fascinating. I felt like there was so much to explore there with his character.

Buuuut then they had him merge with Anders. With the narrative being that he WAS a spirit of Justice, but the moment he connected with Anders, it corrupted his entire spirit into something he wasn’t anymore. So essentially, the character I used to love no longer exists, thanks to Anders. And it reminds me of that phrase recently, about how the destination is so terrible you can no longer enjoy the journey? I can’t even appreciate Justice in Awakening anymore, knowing what happens to him.

To a lesser extent, Corypheus. He was SO COOL and the premise of him was AMAZING when he first appeared in the DA2 DLC, but then Inquisition had to go and turn him into a weird shallow mustache twirl villain.

The character(s) I would totally smooch:

None? Idk I don’t really have the Smooch Fictional Character gene.

The character(s) I’d want to be like:

MAEVARIS TILANI. May I one day finally have the confidence in my identity that she does, and also marry a sweet bear man who adores me.

The character(s) I’d slap:

Too many to list, really. Probably Anders.

The pairing(s) that I love:

THERE’S SO MANY. And most of them are with the PC, because I generally don’t ship NPCs together. But my top 3 are:

M!Hawke / Fenris is my ultimate OTP in the Dragon Age series, by a long-shot. Not even sure where to start on how much I love it, but two damaged guys leaning on each other to work through their respective loneliness and trauma is MY JAM. And lmao I love silver-sideburned Hawke chillin in retirement somewhere but being a supportive husband while Fenris goes off hunting the Bad Guys, it’s great.

Solas / Lavellan is a close second, with the caveat that I increasingly prefer it with a male Lavellan. Having the Inquisitor in love with Solas just changes the entire tone of the game for me, for the better, and him actually being the villain trying to end the world while in love with this normie elf is just (chef kiss). Too bad I’m burned out by how overly spammed it is.

Dorian / Inquisitor is in third, I will just always be fond of how it’s a story of the Inquisitor helping Dorian be happy with who he is, escape an abusive family, and realize that he’s allowed to be loved. Good shit good shit.

Some others:

Warden / Morrigan is probably my favorite Origins ship, and that only intensified with the way she talks about the Warden in Inquisition, esp if they’re Kieran’s other parent. What a cute goth family, regardless of the Warden’s gender, cause you can pry Bi Morrigan from my cold dead fingers.

Cassandra / Inquisitor might have a lot of Romance Cliches, but I adore it – although, similar others, I increasingly prefer it with a female Inquisitor. I actively dislike the weird no-homo rejection with her, and come on, a lady Inquisitor being her Knight In Shining Armor is just good storytelling.

Cullen / Inquisitor, for a lot of the same reasons as Cassandra. I love me a cliche romance, but I’m also fond of the narrative w/ him of someone he loves helping him heal through the lyrium withdrawals and take time to rest.

Josephine / F!Inquisitor is just adorable all around, and wholesome, and great.

Varric / Hawke COME ON HOW WAS THIS NOT AN OPTION.

On the rarepair end:

Sebastian / Hawke doesn’t seem like it would be a rarepair – you’d think everyone who loves Cullen/Inquisitor would love this one too. I do! But alas. That said, I’m also pretty aggro about this one with a male Hawke because SEBASTIAN IS CANON BI. WHY WAS HIS ROMANCE STRAIGHT.

Maric / Loghain is a rarepair I will take with me to my grave LOL. Never forget the scene where Maric thought Loghain was leaving, and bolted across the camp with almost no clothes on to beg Loghain to stay. Come on.

Nathaniel / Cousland is dear to me, and I love it so much more than Alistair / Cousland haha.

Greagoir / Wynne, I can’t believe this got validated in canon ahhhh.

The pairing(s) that I despise:

Again: THERE’S SO MANY.

Iron Bull / Dorian is my least fave by a longshot. Again, I have written about why I hate this pairing a great many times, but it’s awful and toxic and makes me deeply uncomfortable, and I could happily go the rest of my life without seeing anything about it ever again. Please keep poor Dorian away from that man. He deserves someone that doesn’t sexually harass him until he’s finally worn down into dubious consent (while drunk) and then outted to everyone about it.

Isabela / Fenris. Sorry, but it’s just bad writing that Fenris bails on Hawke because the physical intimacy triggered his PTSD and he needs space to process, but then will turn around and have a casual sex relationship with Isabela instead. Yikes.

Anders / Fenris. Aveline / Isabela. Alistair / Morrigan. All of the DA2 Hawke/companion rivalmances. I don’t enjoy “these two people hate and antagonize and want to kill each other… but they fuck” in any form.

Cullen / Amell. Yikes.

And basically ALL of the canon wlw pairings in this series suffer from the fact they have men writing them, and as a result they’re almost always some kind of abusive or racist, and skeeve me out. See: Celene / Briala, Leliana / Marjolaine, Branka / Hespith, etc. Please Bioware, I’m begging you to consult some actual queer women. It’s insane how badly they’re treated compared to how the canon mlm couples are written.

FINALLY, I recognize this will be the most unpopular of all, but. As much as I love M!Hawke/Fenris, I just honestly cannot stand seeing F!Hawke/Fenris. There are some pairings where I’m so attached to the m/m or f/f version, I cannot deal with the m/f version anymore, and that’s one of them. (The others are mainly non-Bioware.)

#LONG POST #REALLY LONG #SORRY #misc: text #misc: asks #misc: meme #series: dragon age #gen: bioware #utopianoverlord

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bleucheesy · 6 years ago

Text

Seduction - Kinkance

After a short hiatus, I’m back with more for @voltronbingo~ @voltronbingoworks

Prompt: Seduction Ship: Any (I chose Kinkance) Rating: M Word Count: 3708 For: @edhelwen1

This went so long...lol

Also available on AO3. Request a drabble here.

Sold out by his own team. Typical.

Pike kicked at a loose stone in the path, his gaze flicking up toward his captor. Tall, dark, handsome…nice butt. Ancients, if he wasn’t currently leading Pike to his death – or, at the very least, some serious jail time – Pike might have considered making a move. But, things being the way they were…

“Are we there yet?” Pike asked for probably the tenth time in as many dobashes. This was part of his plan to annoy the man until he got so sick of him, he’d let him go. But, as with all the other times he’d asked, his question fell on deaf ears. Not literally, Pike was pretty sure. But then again maybe the mercenary after his bounty was just really good at reading lips.

He’d been so cozy earlier that morning, snuggled up with his teammates by the fire. It was the first time since joining up with their little band that he felt comfortable and relaxed enough to come down from the trees and join them.

Big mistake.

Pike had been the first to rise, carefully extracting himself from beneath Meklavar’s legs and under one of Gyro’s arms. He’d been heading toward the river to wash his face, when he heard it. The snapping of a tree branch. But by then, it was too late.

An arrow whizzed by his ear. A warning. And then two more caught his sleeves, pinning him to the trunk of a large tree. One of the arrows had just barely nicked his shoulder. But whatever the point was coated with, it inhibited his ability to teleport.

Yes, his adversary certainly knew what they were doing.

Pike sighed and raised his hands – as high as they’d go, considering how he was trapped – and looked up toward the canopy, the light of early morning barely visible. “All right,” he said. “You’ve caught me.”

A man swung down from a branch, landing softly, despite his tall stature and build. Pike’s ears flicked with interested before he remembered his position.

“Pike Sovnya.” His voice was deep, velvety, and Pike’s tail curled at the sound of it. “Common thief,” he continued. “Wanted for petty theft, grand larceny, aggravated assault-”

“Hey!” Pike interrupted. “I’ll admit to the first two, but there’s no way I-”

“-on a klazgool.”

“Oh.” Pike lowered his ears. “Well, he sort of had that coming…”

“And failure to obey orders,” he finished, finally making eye contact. And, wow, his eyes were pretty. Not that Pike should have been thinking his captor was good-looking, but he was only human. Well, half-human.

Once Pike’s crimes were read to him, the man rolled up his scroll and tucked it away before walking toward him. And it was then that everything became very real.

He was trapped, unable to escape, and someone was about to turn him in.

“Stop right there!” a familiar voice called and Pike could have cried. It was Gyro. “Who are you and what business do you have with our party member?”

The man turned toward him and lifted an eyebrow, but before he could speak, Block and the others appeared. Now he was completely outnumbered. “Your friend is a wanted man,” he said in that deep voice of his.

“Wanted?” Valayun furrowed her brow.

“On what charges?” Meklavar asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Once again, the man listed Pike’s transgressions. “Across multiple kingdoms,” he added this time. And that was when Pike noticed his uniform. It was unlike any guard he’d seen – or taken advantage of – in their travels.

This man was a mercenary.

But that didn’t matter. Because there was no way his comrades were going to let this guy take him. No way. Even if they were all in a huddle… Whispering to each other…

“Um…” Pike cleared his throat. “Guys…?” He swallowed and faced the other man.

“How much did you say his bounty was again?” Meklavar poked her head out from behind Block.

The mercenary simply pulled out another roll of parchment. This time, when he unrolled it, he held it out to show them. Pike had to admit that the artist’s rendering was spot on. But below that… Well… Wow, that was a lot of zeroes…

“All right,” Meklavar disappeared into the huddle again and after a few seconds, they broke. “You can take him,” she said.

Oh, good. He knew his team wouldn’t let him down.

Wait.

“What?” Pike’s eyes grew large. “You guys can’t be serious?”

“My apologies, Pike,” Valayun began. “But it is a great sum they’re offering.”

“So?” Pike gesticulated wildly as best he could while trapped against the tree. “It’s not like you have to pay him! Shoot him with a magic arrow or something!”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Pike.” It was Gyro who spoke this time. His tone conveyed finality, though his expression was almost sad. Maybe he’d argued in favor of rescuing Pike? Maybe.

Then again, Gyro had a giant, blazing sword that could have easily downed the entire tree, let alone the two measly arrows holding Pike captive.

“Sorry, Buddy,” Block chimed in.

Pike looked at each of them, expecting at least one to come to his defense. But nothing. Nada. Zilch. They were seriously just going to let this mercenary take him and turn him in. All over a few gold coins.

Okay, a lot of gold coins.

“Wow.” Pike’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat. “Fine then.”

Flash forward to hours later. Pike had been following his thus far unnamed captor for miles, his hands tied together, the other end of the rope gripped tightly in the man’s hand. Pike had plenty of stamina, he liked to think, but even his legs were starting to get tired.

“Hey,” he called, knowing he probably wouldn’t get an answer. “Don’t you think we should set up camp for the night?”

To his surprise, the man stopped and turned to face him. “You tired?”

Pike released a breath and nodded. “Exhausted.”

The mercenary grunted and looked up at the sky before giving the rope a tug, leading Pike off of the path and through a thicket. Pike winced as the thorns on the bushes poked into his skin, hooking onto his clothes and tail.

Once he broke free of the vicious shrub, he found himself in a clearing. It was quiet, save for the gentle sound of water. He was certain they were quite a ways downriver from where they’d started hours earlier.

Not that he expected his friends to show up.

Pfft. Friends.

Well, Pike had gotten himself out of worse situations.

“So,” he began, but didn’t get to finish as the man yanked on the rope, which would have sent him sprawling, if not for his catlike reflexes. “Hey!”

“We’ll camp here,” he said before tying his end of the rope to a nearby tree. He whispered something which caused the knot to glow bright before dimming back to normal.

“You know magic?” Pike gaped. Just great. No wonder he had those arrows earlier. Pike had just figured he’d stolen them off of an archer like Valayun.

But, once again, the man didn’t answer. He just set to gathering up kindling for a fire.

With an aggravated huff, Pike crouched down beside the tree, miffed at being ignored. This man was proving to be quite the tough nut to crack.

Fire ablaze, the man pitched a tent – large enough for only one, Pike noted – then sat down and pulled out a small pouch. When he opened it, Pike perked up at the delicious aroma of dried meat, cheese, and crusty bread. His mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. And even though his captor had been kind enough to give him sips of water during their journey, that wasn’t going to cut it.

“Hey,” Pike began, moving closer. “You think maybe I could get some of that?”

The man looked up at him, brought the bread to his lips, and bit into it before turning back toward the fire.

Rude.

“Fine then!” Pike puffed his chest out. “I’ll just die of starvation and you’ll lose all your reward money.” He harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking his nose in the air, his tail swishing angrily from side to side.

The mercenary chuckled. Chuckled!

“What’s so funny?” Pike glared at him, too cheesed to notice how handsome the other looked when he laughed. Well, mostly.

He pulled out the poster again and pointed to the bottom. “Dead or alive.”

Oh, great.

“But,” he continued, rolling the ad back up and stuffing it into his pocket. “You’re worth more alive, so…” He tossed a chunk of bread Pike’s way. And, pride be damned, Pike pounced on it, bringing the stale treat to his lips and devouring it before licking the crumbs from his fingers.

After that, they sat in silence while Pike tried to formulate a plan. There had to be something the other man wanted. More than the large sum of money he’d get if he turned Pike in. But what?

“You got a name?” Pike asked. Maybe if they got to know each other, the other man might think twice about handing him over. Not that mercenaries were known for their soft hearts. “C’mon,” he continued when he received no answer. “If we’re going to be traveling together, I need to know what to call you.”

That seemed to get his attention. He turned Pike’s way, his dark eyes and skin lit orange by the fire’s glow as the sun dipped behind the trees. “Ryan.”

Pike blinked. He figured the other man would be named something like King or Lightning or Big McLargeHuge. But Ryan? Hmm…

“Well, Ryan…” Pike drawled, arching his back as he gave a stretch. The other looked at him before returning his attention to his meal. But now that Pike had something in his belly, he was less distracted by hunger and ready to make a deal. “I wonder how much they’re offering for me,” he mused, bringing bound hands up to tap a finger to his chin.

Ryan cleared his throat, but Pike couldn’t be sure if it was in acknowledgement of his talking or if the other man had simply tried to swallow too large a piece of bread at once.

“I can’t imagine it’s a fortune greater than the one up in the Feldakor mountains…” He puckered his lips, waiting for Ryan to take the bait. When he didn’t, Pike continued. “Gold as far as the eye can see. Coins, baubles, trinkets, rare items-”

“Not interested,” Ryan said flatly, not bothering to look up from the fire.

Pike bristled. What kind of mercenary didn’t want more money?

But then Pike grinned. If riches weren’t what tempted this man, perhaps it was the thrill of the chase. The challenge. And Pike was as competitive as they came.

“So, you’re pretty good with that bow, huh?” Pike gestured toward the weapon nestled between the quiver of arrows and the small tent. “You missed me though. That first time.”

Ryan looked his way, eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t trying to hit you.”

“Sure, sure.” Pike raised his palms and nodded along. “Of course. Every MERC wants to give their target fair warning. You know, so they can escape or whatever.”

“You didn’t escape,” Ryan pointed out, narrowing his eyes.

Ah-ha! He bit.

Now to reel him in…

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” Pike replied, studying his nails – easier said than done with his hands bound the way they were – then he glanced up with a smirk. “Bet you can’t hit that fruit over there.” He pointed, best he could, toward a dangling appauava high up the length of a tree toward the very edge of the clearing.

Ryan turned his head toward the fruit and then looked back at Pike. “Not much of a challenge.”

Pike could practically taste his freedom.

“What say we make a deal?” Pike began, barely containing his glee. “If you can knock it down in one shot, I’ll go quietly the rest of the way.” He paused, tail flicking excitedly. “But if I hit it-”

“I don’t cut deals with wanted men,” Ryan interrupted, grabbing a stick and poking at the campfire.

Pike bit his lip. Hard. Internally screaming. What kind of man was this Ryan? Couldn’t be bribed. Couldn’t be challenged. What in all of Aurita could tempt him?

Then Pike got an idea. A wicked idea.

He got into a crouched position, tugging feebly at his bindings. “Ryaaaaaan…” he whined, jutting out his lower lip. “Can’t you loosen the ropes? My wrists hurt…”

Ryan scoffed, shaking his head as he continued to ignore Pike.

“I think it’s broken the skin,” Pike continued, standing up.

Still no response.

Fine. Time to up the ante.

“And I’m cold…” Pike shivered. “The fire’s too far away and I’m freezing.” He made a show of puffing up his tail, his teeth chattering. “I think I might die, Ryan.” He raised his hands, closing his eyes and striking a dramatic pose.

Suddenly, his bound wrists were pushed up over his head, gripped tightly and held against the tree behind him. Pike’s eyelids fluttered open, going wide when he realized just how close Ryan was to him now, the other’s breath warm against his face.

Maybe Pike was kind of cold, after all.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Ryan ground out, dark eyes narrowed, pupils blown in the low light.

Pike swallowed, large eyes staring up at Ryan. He knew he was tall, but up close like this…

“Um,” Pike faltered, his ears drawn back. “I, uh-” He tore his gaze away, his cheeks growing warm. This was embarrassing. He was never without a witty comeback.

“Run out of things to say?” Ryan challenged, releasing Pike’s wrists before making his way back to the campfire.

“I’ve been told I can get pretty noisy,” Pike managed, finally collecting himself now that Ryan was a safe distance away. “But there’s one way to shut me up.”

This was it. Pike’s last ditch-effort. If money and winning didn’t do it for Ryan, maybe sex would. And Pike liked to think he was well-versed in the art of seduction. Besides, once Ryan had his pants down, Pike could make a break for it.

It seemed Ryan had returned to his stoic, less-than-talkative self. And Pike was about to give up hope until the other made his way over, a small blade in hand.

Shit.

Pike tried desperately to get away, but whatever enchantment Ryan had put on the rope held firm. He lowered his ears and ducked his head. But instead of feeling the sharp blade against his skin, he felt the taut rope go slack.

He opened one eye and saw that Ryan had cut through the knot tying Pike to the tree. The rope and knife glowed briefly before dimming. Ryan put the blade back into his pocket and gripped the end of the rope, giving it a pull and leading an astonished Pike toward the fire.

Ryan sat down and when Pike didn’t immediately follow suit, he looked up at him and quirked a brow.

Quickly recovering, Pike smirked, easing himself down beside Ryan, close enough so their shoulders and thighs brushed. At this distance, he noticed how the light from fire danced on Ryan’s high cheekbones, illuminating the golden rings that decorated the braids in the other’s hair. “How kind,” he purred, wrapping his tail around himself and leaning into the other. “But you know,” he whispered in Ryan’s ear, “you’re even hotter than the fire.”

A bad line, sure. But it was the truth. Never mind that the mercenary was extremely good-looking. His body temperature was also relatively high in comparison. And if they’d met under different circumstances, Pike would have gladly let the other be his bed-warmer.

Then again, it wasn’t too late for that…

“I thought this would shut you up,” Ryan replied, using Pike’s earlier phrasing. “Since you were so cold,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, about that…” Pike let his lips brush against Ryan’s ear. “I thought of a better way to warm up.” He gave his lobe a teasing nip before pulling back.

Ryan was looking at him with an unreadable expression. But the blush on his cheeks gave him away. And Pike rolled with it.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Big Bad Mercenary?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Flustered by a little flirting?” He moved quickly, maneuvering himself so he was in Ryan’s lap, one leg on either side of the other’s hips. He bumped their foreheads gently. “Or am I too much for you?”

Pike sat, quite pleased with himself.

“You’re wrong,” Ryan breathed, his hands finding Pike’s hips and gripping them tight.

“Oh?” Pike let himself be pulled against the other. He looped his bound arms around Ryan’s neck and drew close enough that their lips nearly touched.

Ryan reached up, wrapping his fingers around the base of Pike’s tail and giving it a pleasurable tug. Pike tipped his head back and let out a low moan while Ryan pressed curved lips against Pike’s neck, chuckling lowly. “Yeah.”

Pike’s head swam. When was the last time he’d been in this situation? Well, not this exact situation. He didn’t often let himself get tied up. Maybe a few times. But that was neither here nor there. What was he saying?

Right. When had he been this close to another without interruption? The rest of the team was always barging in on them when he and Gyro-

“You’re pretty desperate, huh?” Ryan’s hot breath caressed the sensitive skin of Pike’s neck.

“Y-Yes…” Pike whined and then cleared his throat. “I mean, no. What?”

Ryan chuckled and drew back. “Come on, now,” he teased, the slight lilt in his deep voice doing things to Pike. Delightfully sinful things. “You’re the one who came on to me.”

“Yeah,” Pike purred, rolling his hips. “I was, wasn’t I?”

“Mhm,” Ryan hummed, canting to meet his thrust. And wow. Okay. So, he was packing.

Pike shivered, his tail curling at the mere thought of anything inside him. Let alone something so…substantial. It had definitely been too long. And once he got back to his team – if he felt like gracing those slimy traitors with his presence – he was going to rub it in Gyro’s face.

“You know, you don’t look like you’d put up too much of a fight,” Ryan said, bringing Pike out of his own head.

“Huh?”

“Yeah.” Ryan rubbed his palms up and down Pike’s sides, gazing at his form appreciatively. “But maybe you got away from me,” he added. “Sneaked off during the night or something like that.”

Then Pike caught on. “I am pretty sneaky,” he breathed, brushing their noses and wanting so badly to close the gap between their lips.

“You’re going to get me in so much trouble,” Ryan said with a slight shake of his head. And Pike readily embraced this new flirty version of his captor.

“Yeah, I do that,” Pike snorted and then let out a startled squeak when Ryan pressed their lips together, the hands on his waist lowering to grip his backside and pull their hips flush. “A-Ah,” he gasped, opening his mouth and letting Ryan inside.

It had been way too long and this was so good. No, better than good. Amazing. Ryan’s earlier blush had given Pike the idea that he was flustered. And maybe he had been. But now he was in control and Pike was loving it.

“Mmm…Ryan,” Pike moaned, rutting against the very obvious tent in the other’s pants. He pulled back, panting, and glanced down. Then he licked his lips, not missing the way Ryan’s dark gaze followed the motion. “Hey, do you think I could-”

“Pike!”

Both Ryan and Pike straightened, their heads whipping toward the direction of the shout. And there, bursting through the brush in full armor was none other than

“Gyro?” Pike blinked, confused as to why he was there. But, more than that, disappointed that he and Ryan had been interrupted. He’d really wanted to get his mouth around the other’s-

“Get your hands off him!” Gyro snapped, his glare directed not at Pike, but at Ryan.

Oh, great. A few nights together – or a few dozen, maybe, Pike had lost count – and now Gyro thought he needed to fight for Pike’s honor or something. Ah well, time to set the paladin straight. But Pike had barely opened his mouth before Gyro continued.

“I went along with the plan and followed after you two-”

Wait. Plan?

“-but I lost you at the bend in the path-”

Hold on.

“-and then I come to find-” Gyro faltered, wildly gesturing toward them. “This!” He shook his head. “And even though I was supposed to let him turn you in and then take the reward money-”

Ah.

“-which, honestly, didn’t seem like the right thing to do, but Meklavar had phrased it in such a way-”

Of course.

“-anyway,” Gyro paused, raising his sword and getting into a fighting stance. “I demand you release my teammate this instant!”

Pike sighed. He couldn’t be mad at Gyro. Well, yes. Yes, he could. But Gyro was only trying to do the right thing. Pike let his head fall back. Gyro was noble to a fault and a great comrade, but damn, why did he have to show up before it got good? Well, maybe Pike could convince the paladin to make it up to him later.

With another sigh, Pike lowered his chin so he was looking at Ryan once more. The mercenary simply raised his eyebrows and Pike gave him a sheepish smile. “Raincheck?”

At that, Ryan’s lips curled, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Or…you could convince your friend to go for a walk around the woods,” he suggested.

In his periphery, Pike saw Gyro’s grip on his sword slacken. “…Pike?”

“Or…” Pike began, mimicking Ryan’s tone. He glanced over at Gyro, flicking his ears and curling his tail. “I could convince him to join us.”

Hey, two for one. And, as he’d mentioned earlier, Pike was always up for a challenge.

#kinkance #ryance #lance #ryan kinkade #shiro #pike #gyro #voltronbingo #voltronbingoworks #seduction #long post #vld

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