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rcksmith · 4 years

Text

Heaven — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Can I get 53, 31, 48 from fluff and 28 and 29 and 68 with heavy smut? Where Five is an emotionless Assassin from the commission and does his job without remorse or mercy until he meets the reader and he will do anything to make her his? And will kill anyone who gets in his way between him and the reader? If your okay with this!”

Fluff prompts:

31. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”

48. “nothing else matters except for you.”

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

68. “Say my name over and over again and, once you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel good.“

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

My God, I loved it so much!! Thank you so much for request, I loved writing it!💖💖 I hope you like!

Guys, I really understand who doesn’t feel comfortable reading or writing Five’s smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, bad words, blood, murder, mention of death (and sooo explicit heavy smut), fluff too.

— — — — —

He was not a saint.

The trail of blood, bodies and the smell of death he had left behind could terrify even the strongest mind. He could get the devil to run.

He has already broken many bones, but none of them were his own. Once, there was an army, he was alone, and he broke many bones.

He was not a saint.

If there was a note for death and danger, it would be his symphony of life. Echoing and constant whenever the viscous and metallic liquid stained him white shirt.

Five Hargreeves did not consider himself a good person. But he didn't think he was bad too. He was just minding his own business. Even if it meant killing the innocent people that the Commission was ordering.

It was ironic. Five had been raised by Reginald to be a hero, to save people, and what he was doing was just the opposite. Was Needed cold blood, a focused mind, an objective.

Five had a closed and serious countenance. And in his case, the book could very well be judged by the cover, because Five it was also closed and serious inside. He It had the typical soul of a storm and a rough sea, where the wind blew with fury and the rain punished, while the sea was brutal and with aggressive waves capable of swallowing up a city in its entirety.

Anyone could see the warning sign hanging from his chest: "GIVE UP ALL THE HOPE IF YOU ENTER HERE." He was advancing with heavy artillery. Five was heavy artillery. The Commission considered he best of the best.

Five Hargreeves could get the devil to run. Nobody couldn't fool him, hook him, he wasn't a trout. He was a shark, dangerous and big. With a sharp and cruelly intelligent mind. Working in an equally sharp and cruelly intelligent environment.

But none of that bothered him. Five did not fear the fury of the Commission or its representatives. Machiavelli said that: you can only insult the other if you are not afraid of his retaliation. And Five feared no one. When angry, he had the same caustic look that Lucifer threw around shortly after The Fall. And it was a surprise that that look did not leave a trail of rubble wherever it passed.

Five did not liked what he job did, but it did not affect that he was very good at it. He had been anesthetized for years. Submerged in an inertia of emotions that not even the largest number of victims could tremble. He was already convinced that his furthermore emotions were buried as deep as possible in his soul of the troubled sea, lost. Such as Atlantida. Perhaps, like Atlandida, his emotions were a myth.

And Five had already accepted that. Even he sets eyes on you.

It was another routine day of that profane work: finding the target, shooting down, not leaving witnesses and leaving. And that was exactly what would be done. If it was not you.

Five was seated at one of the tables at a local Irish bar, the glass filled with cold beer set in front of him. The rays of the sun, from a year that he did not even care to know more about, were entering inside the large windows that overlooked the busy streets. People's humorous conversations filled that place with bright, welcoming walls, but Five felt none of it. Anesthetized.

But for some reason, when the door bell rang when someone came in, he raised his face towards the door and... his breath was gone.

The moment you walked through that door, Five knew it was hopeless for him. Your beauty was blinding. Sublime. Impressive. He felt as if his whole life had been wandering in the desert and finally found his oasis. Lepid, fierce heat swept Five's body from the top of his head with night-black hair to the tip of his feet.

You wandered your eyes around the place, and you seemed to find what you wanted because your eyes softened and you went towards your goal.

But just as Five was oblivious to the world because of you, so were you oblivious to the world, but for something else. And it was like this, oblivious, that you hit your waist on the front end of Five's table, causing his glass to swing and fall on the table, pouring all the beer on the floor. Five stood up quickly to keep from getting wet, but a few splashes of the cold drink had hit his suit.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

You said promptly, trembling hands quickly lifting the glass from the table, your voice nervous and embarrassed. You righted his table while the waitress came to clean up the spilled liquid.

“I wet your suit, god, I'm so sorry.” And when Five noticed,your hands were drying the beer droplets with a napkin.

That was when the two of you looked at each other for the first time. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat.

Something inside him stirred and woke up, something that had been dormant for years. Sensations that had never before appeared now snaked through his body, waiting for the best time to hang him. Even with a layer of clothing and a napkin, Five felt the warmth of you touch, and he wondered if you had been forged in the sun.

Dangerous. The sensations you aroused in him were dangerous. And therefore, you were dangerous.

“It's all right.”

If it had been anyone else, Five would have burst. His moods were not one of the best and he felt that anything could set him on fire.

But apparently, not for you.

That afternoon, Five convinced you to join him, saying, whit charming, he would forget about the incident if you sat with him.

He tried to convince himself not to do that, that he should just give a mocking smile and leave. He had done this millions of times, and he knew it was one of the best ways to avoid headaches. Even so, the smile didn't come and he couldn't turn his back on you.

The sensations you stirred up in him were addictive, and Five was lost in a hurricane, trying to understand what was happening to him. But he couldn't let you go. Not without knowing his name.

But it took on proportions that he never considered. You were funny, witty, with an intelligent, warm gleam in your eyes. At that moment, while Five found himself really enjoying someone's company instead of just tolerating it, he felt out of his own body.

God, he was losing track of reality.

He had a job to do, a person to finish. The list was full but... but his body didn't order any muscles to move. It was like... while you were talking to him, with an extraordinary friendliness and ease of making friends, he felt alive for the first time.

Five had been alive for 25 years. But only now did he feel his own heart beat.

But when your time inevitably came, and you said goodbye and thanked you for the lunch that Five and you had — he didn't even remember how the situation got there. Since when did he have lunch with someone? — As soon as you left for that door, it took with you all the new feelings that were aroused within him.

Executing the target that day was weird, going to Motel's room was weird, and cleaning the blood was weird. There was something different, a shortness of breath, an itch in the palm of his hand, his body desperate for something he didn't know what it was.

Five Hargreeves stayed in that martyrdom for days, weeks. He was trying to understand his own body, his own mind. He felt he was losing his sanity and that the body, now that he experienced what it was like to be alive, repudiated the feeling of feeling dead.

He was trapped in some damn spell that you had cast on him. If Five looked in the mirror at the place of the chest you touched over his shirt, he could feel his skin tingle.

Fuck, he was losing his sanity!

The situation was stupid, he didn't need anyone, he didn't depend on anyone. But after the second week Five found himself returning to that bar again, feeling completely stupid to be looking for someone he barely knew.

What a stupid thing. He said to himself as soon as entered that place.

But that's when he saw you. With the bar uniform on, you hair tied up in a ponytail with a few strands dangling from your face, your chest slightly heaving, a pad of paper with a pen in hands. His heart skipped a beat, as if he found something he didn't even know was lost.

Five felt lost amidst a jumble of thoughts and reactions. But as soon as you saw him, with a smile was purely sincere and happy appearing on you lips and went towards him, the answers to all the questions that plagued him for weeks flashed in his mind like neon lights:

I want her.

He wanted you since the day he saw you. You were beautiful, with a maddening body, a sublime smile and the heat of a thousand suns. Now Five realized that had never wanted anything so desperately in his life.

Five thought he understood the desire: an attraction, a magnetic current between two people. He thought he knew what lust was: an intense hunger, a strong yearning. And he found out that he didn't understand anything.

For when you embraced him and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, the desire was a hot, black whirlwind that ripped you from end to end, with dizzying speed, and dragged you towards perdition, below any intellect. Five thought he was going crazy when he felt your heart beat next to his, in the same frantic rhythm. The same compass needed.

But Five was not going crazy. He wasn’t crazy when he saw your cheeks flush when he looked at you more carefully, he wasn’t crazy when he noticed your hands trembling slightly with his presence.

Were you feeling the same things?

Yes. And he found that out when first kissed you. It had been a few weeks since he had used, for himself, the excuse that he was going to that bar just to drink something and not to see you again.

But that was not how you two met that day

Five had just finished a job that did not end soo much great. A fight had taken place, and a bullet had grazed his left shoulder, tearing through the flesh. His clothes were flooded with red, thick, metallic liquid. His muscles ached and the wound stung like hell.

He was on his way back when the car popped loudly, the car stalled in place and smoke began to rise from the bikes.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Five punched the steering wheel, cursed the Commission for making such a damn fuck thing available.

He had just gotten out of the car when a car passed by and stopped.

“Five?” This time, his body throbbed for something else instead of pain.

He saw you get out of the car, your eyes shocked, the livid concern on your face, your hands shaking.

“My god, are you okay?!”

Five hated to appear that he was not able to deal with anything, but there was no plausible and peaceful lie to what you were seeing. You didn't let him make any decisions at that moment, you just stuck him in you own car, and when the chance of taking Five to the hospital had been vehemently denied by him, you ran the car to you own apartment.

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

You whispered to yourself, now at in your bed, closing the cut on Five's shoulder after he took a shower.

“I can do this.” He repeated it for the ninth time, but you shook your head.

But, while for you the situation was only for first aid, for Five it was torture in a very different sense.

Your touch was addictive, hot and fiery. Five didn't want to want you, but he did. He wanted you to beg for it too, so that Five could pretend to be in control. He wanted you to burn for him, just as he always burned when he was near you.

Under a light gauze, you covered the bruise on his shoulder, letting out a loud sigh that went to another very specific spot on Five's body. You asked for an explanation and he said that he had been mugged and reacted, but that the bandits had received what they deserved. He had to lie. At least for now. At least while he wanted you so much to touch him.

Perhaps this madness would pass.

But it didn't pass, your hands were still on Five's warm skin and he felt his heart pounding in his chest.

He wanted you. Holy Mother of God, he wanted you so fuck much! The knuckles of his fingers were whitened, the strength with which he clenched his fists.

But you whispered his name under your breath, as if you too were trapped in that cloud of lust and passion. So it was the end. Five kissed you, hungry, desperate, as if he wasn't going to have a tomorrow. He pulled you around the waist so you could sit on his lap, his hands roaming your body, squeezing all the flesh he could touch.

“I was asking how much more time was take to you to kiss me.”

You whispered against his lips, with a mischievous smile on your face, your hands roaming through his hair as you held a sigh when he adjusted your hips under you. God only knows how long you've been dreaming about this guy.

“Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” Five barely recognized his own voice.

This time, you who kissed him, your body burning in suppressed passion and desire, burning under the intense touch of Five. You hardly saw it when your shirt left, nor when you skirt went up until it was exposed to him. You whimpered, your lips going down to his neck and hiding your face there, squirming when his hand went up from your thigh to its pulsating center.

“Your skin is so hot. You were wishing for that, weren't you?” Five whispered, his voice hoarse.

You heart was beating fast in chest, cheeks were flushed, and Five brought your face up to look at him, lust bubbling in her eyes. You frantically agreed, rummaging you hips in him when you gasped. He curled his mouth over your left breast, groaning against your skin as you tightened your fingers on the back of his neck.

“F-five!” The liquid dripped from inside you to your thighs, and Five let out a loud moan of satisfaction when he saw it.

He raised his mouth to you, and, without kissing you, he sighed maliciously on yours lips: “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

After that point, everything became more crude. Five's touch on your waist gained pressure, marking your skin with purple marks on his fingers, his mouth bit and sucked on your breast, like a hungry man, and you were being driven crazy.

That's when two of his fingers entered you, deep, strong, opening your walls.

"Five!" You moaned loudly, your body hot under his lap, at the mercy of lustful desires.

“Shit! You are so tight!” His moan transcended between painful and angry, as if you were pushing him to the limit. “How are you going to put up with my dick, doll? You almost can't take my fingers!”

Five jerked his fingers inside you and hit rock bottom. You screamed, tears welling up in your eyes, the walls throbbing on his dick.

“Answer me!” His free hand came down on your thigh, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning loudly again.

“II am going to put up with you-everything.” You whined.

“How much?!” Five pulled your chin up to look at him, the hunger overwhelming his eyes, he's holding on as much as possible so he doesn't deal too badly with you.

Not yet.

“An-Anything as you give it to me.” You purred like a kitten "Fuck me hard, Five."

Oh you didn't say that.

His hand came down on your left cheek, letting out a soft slap and pulled your chin back at him, he jaw clenched by the effort he made to keep from fucking and hitting you so hard.

“Do you want it hard?! I will leave you without walking for days!” Five got up with you on his lap, threw you on the bed and slapped your thigh.

“Turn around!” He ordered in a snarl, removing his own pants, and as soon as you positioned yourself with your hips up and your face on the mattress, a hard, brutal slap made you moan loudly, squeezing your hands on the pillow.

The right hand wrapped around your hair, pulling your face off the pillow as Five positioned itself behind you.

“What you want?” He growled.

“I whant You fuck me hard!” God, you were begging, you needed him so much, you wanted him so much.

“How much hard?”

“Much! I want you to fuck me until I can't stay…”

Five came inside you brutally, pushing your body onto the mattress, making you moan loudly. He didn't let you finish, it barely gave you time to moan. As soon as he started to move, his rhythm became relentless, coarse, rude, forcing himself deeper inside you with each thrust.

Tears stung your face, you pussy throbbed in excitement, so fucking good that you felt like you were in heaven.

“What is it, lillet slut?” He pushed deeper, his voice arrogant and condescending, “Am I too big for you? For that tight pussy?” A slap went down your ass again, the other hand never coming out of your hair.

“F-fi-five! Please, I need this so much!”

The desperation in your voice did things to him, further igniting Five's desire to fuck you until he broke you.

“You were so tight! So. fucking. tight!” And you moaned and pushed him hips at him like you couldn't live without what he gave you. “Fuck, this is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted me to broke you!”

“Yes!” You screamed as he keeping fuck you deeper and deeper “Pl-please!”

Your voice was too much for him! Five's hunger snarled and roared like a beast, increasing the desire to get you so badly. He hit your ass hard, letting go of your hair and sticking both hands on your waist, pulling you violently to his dick.

“Say my name over and over again! And, once you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel good! ” Five combined a deep thrust with the tug on his waist, making his dick reach your unimaginable corners.

“Five!”

“Higher!” A slap.

“Five!” One more slap.

“Higher!” Another slap.

“F-FIVE!”

His mouth went to your shoulder, his lips tightening there as he pushed himself deep inside you. You were very close, super stimulated, your legs were shaking, your heart was pounding.

Five was fucking you so hard that you could barely groan, giving you sensations that you never felt before. You came with a loud groan, trembling on his dick, losing your breath when Five sank to the bottom of the well and came there, filling you with his hot cum.

Five Hargreeves thought that after that he would be free of your effects, freed from that desperation that was always wanting to be with you.

But then again, he was deeply mistaken.

Everything only increased in unimaginable proportions. Jealousy came, the overwhelming sense of protection, the need to be with you. Now he not only fucked you hard, but he made a point of leaving you at work and picking you up at night.

And that's when you said you loved him. And his world has turned inside out once again. Five didn't respond right away, he was dumbfounded and bewildered, and you said he only had to speak when he was ready.

He love you? That question hung around his mind for days.

Five felt at peace with you company, relaxed with your touch, happy whenever he heard your voice. You were the only place he thought about going back after a hard job, after the day had gotten the best of him.

He love you?

That was when The Handler told him, in one day, that it was good that his new “pet” did not make him deviate from the Commission's objectives.

Five has never felt so furious in his life. He came as close to her as possible, making her look death in the eye, and said that if any hair disappeared from your pretty head, he would stop everything and kill everyone on that commission. And The Handler knew that Five was not bluffing.

That's when he found out that he loved you. That the idea of seeing you hurt, even if it was a scratch, was unacceptable. And that's when Five realized that his world only revolved when you were with him.

“I love you.” He released that night, you were lying on his chest, watching some series on TV when Five cut off the characters' lines.

You looked at him in bewilderment, propping yourself up on your elbow to see him better.

“What?”

Five looked him in the eye, and in the most sincere and truthful way, he said: "nothing else matters except for you."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you kissed him as if Five were your whole world. In fact, he certainly were your world. But it was at that moment that he said he had to talk to you, and that's when he told you the whole truth.

Shocked would be an understatement to say what you felt at that moment.

It took a few days for you to digest the whole truth and several conversations with Five to understand what was really going on. You saw his powers, his briefcase, his life story. And Five knew, when the dust settled and you said that none of that mattered, that you really loved him.

“I just can't have anything with someone who hides things from me.” You said “ I understand the reasons why you didn't tell me before, but now I don't want any more lies between us.”

“None.” He smiled, and looked at you as if he finally understood that you loved him.

And it is logical that you noticed.

“ I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you." You laughed.

And in that moment, in that fraction of a second, Five realized that he would never be able to live without you.

“I'm just afraid of your job. Whether you get hurt or they want to hurt you coming after me and…”

Five didn't let you finish. He held you in his hands, your cheeks in his palms, and whispered, “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

703 notes · View notes

shakey-hands · 3 years

Note

please please can we get fukuzawa awkwardly having to tell ranpo he’s dating reader and the two of them start fighting and reader is subjected to it??? 😍😍

haha yeah. first ask that imma answer, let me know if you guys want more. my asks are open for any (except mineta gross) mha, ouran, or bungo characters :)

{this one is gonna be done with she/her pronouns but if you ask for gender neutral or he/him or any other pronouns, i can do it}

---

The clock struck two when Y/N looked at her phone, leg bouncing up and down in a way that always annoyed the people around her. Great. It was thirty minutes past their meeting time and her boyfriend still had not shown up with what she understood was his adopted son.

It had been a good plan. Meet on neutral territory, gas up (what Y/N assumed was) a teenage boy with a sweets addiction, and then break the news. Y/N was not sure why they needed to go through such lengthy troubles to inform her boyfriend’s son that they were dating. He was at least old enough to understand what dating was. And from what she had heard from Kunikida, Fukuzawa’s son had a very prominent dating life of his own. But Y/N trusted her boyfriend, no matter how many times he looked off into the distance with quiet wisdom that felt vague.

Y/N sipped her tea, realizing that caffeine would only worsen her anxiety. It didn’t matter how many times Fukuzawa and Kunikida tried to tell her that the meeting wouldn’t be a big deal and that the son would love her, she wasn’t so sure. He was working at the Armed Detective Agency and was good at what he did. At least those were Kunikida’s words as Y/N and him were quietly reading in the same room as they did on Saturday nights. While Y/N appreciated Kunikida for his straight forward/driven personality, he did not fare well in comforting her.

Which brought her to her boyfriend. His solid, piercing eyes would always soften as she talked about her day over their dinner dates and he would brush the back of his hand on her cheek in the moments they were alone with one another. While Y/N rarely noticed because she herself was too infatuated with him, Fukuzawa cared deeply for her after seven months of dating. Their last hurdle was introducing Y/N to Ranpo. Fukuzawa was not at all worried since Y/N had a knack for making sweets and made people feel as if they were special when she smiled at them. There was never a shortage of praise around her.

Y/N checked her phone again, hoping that an apology text would come through and she would not be left in the dark. That however was proving difficult. Fukuzawa was driving with Ranpo eating cotton candy in the passenger seat. He had to be bribed away from the sweets table Dazai had set up for some ungodly known reason to mess with Atsushi. It was embarrassing how long it took for Kunikida to pry Ranpo’s little grubby hands away from the snacks and then another amount of time for Fukuzawa to get Ranpo to put on his seatbelt.

It made Fukuzawa nervous that he was so late. He knew Y/N would be understanding, it was part of the reason he enjoyed her company so much. Knowing her, she would probably be bouncing her knee and staring down at the table, overthinking things. He, of course, was right.

As Fukuzawa was pulling into the parking lot, he spotted his girlfriend’s car. It was pristine, as always, and had a small cat paw sticker on the back left bumper. He smiled inwardly, realizing that he had been waiting for this. There was a future with Y/N and Fukuzawa couldn’t wait.

Ranpo still had yet to get out of the car, his glasses dangling from his shirt pocket and a light dusting of sugar crystals on his lips. He was pouting, of course. Kunikida did not pack enough snacks for the car ride, meaning Ranpo did not have the mental energy to get out of the car and go into whatever flop coffee shop the president insisted they go into. People were so stupid and Ranpo already just finished a case that was so obvious. The local police really needed to be more useful.

“Get out of the car,” Fukuzawa said, getting more and more agitated.

“No,” Ranpo said.

“Let’s go. I promise there will be sweets inside the shop.”

“So? There were sweets at the agency.”

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes, knowing Ranpo would sit in the car out of stubbornness. “Ranpo-”

“Yukichi?” A soft voice called out from the entrance of the cafe.

Fukuzawa turned to see Y/N standing right outside. She had a to-go cup of something hot in her hands, jacket sleeves pulled over her hands to stop the warmth from burning her skin. Even though it was overcast and windy, Y/N still seemed to have a certain glow about her that always took Fukuzawa’s breath away. She waved timidly, not knowing why he was awkwardly standing behind his parked car with a weird defensive stance. He nodded over to her, giving her a genuine smile before turning his head back to the car and glaring.

“Is everything okay?”

Y/N began to approach her boyfriend. The only other time she had seen her boyfriend have this stance was when she had bumped into some eyebrowless pale emo kid in an accident at the mall. Fukuzawa seemed to pick the weird fights, but she just smiled through it. His eyes held a certain annoyance the Y/N had not seen before. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took a step off the curb. Fukuzawa held out his hand, motioning her to not get closer. Y/N paused, unsure about his demeanor.

“Ranpo, don’t make me ask again.” Fukuzawa’s voice held a bass to it that Y/N had never heard before. She could only assume it was his dad voice that he has never had to use with her.

The window rolled down on the old car for just a crack. “I don’t remember a question being asked.”

The voice was whiny and slightly muffled, as if the speaker had sweets in his mouth. Fukuzawa rolled his eyes and put his hand on the glass. Y/N was slightly shocked by her boyfriend, but decided to let him do his thing. She was not a parent and the closest time she had ever been was when she had a babysitting gig decades ago when she was a teen. While she was interested in a family, she had neither the time nor mental capacity to follow through. So she stepped back onto the curb and took a sip of her tea, relishing in the warmth it provided.

“Ranpo, if you don’t get out of the damned car, there will be no sweets at the agency for a year.”

A clear threat had been made.

The door slammed into the car next to it, causing a dent that Fukuzawa watched form. Out from the passenger seat, a short man with a slight pout crawled out of the car. Definitely not the young teenager Y/N had been expecting. He was only slightly taller than Y/N and wore a cape. In fact, he looked like a full grown adult, maybe only ten years younger than Y/N. Her face said it all, though neither men were looking at her. They just stared one another down before Fukuzawa remembered his loving girlfriend stood awkwardly behind him. He motioned for her to come over.

Ranpo did not look impressed as he looked her up and down. Y/N looked too ordinary to know Fukuzawa in her jeans and plain jacket combo. Her shoes were dirty from all the yard work she had done throughout the years. As she got closer, Ranpo watched closely as Fukuzawa gently touched the small of her back before wrapping his arm around her waist. While Ranpo had never seen the President act like this, he did not care.

“Ranpo, I would like you to meet-”

Ranpo yawned loudly. “She’s way too old for me. Almost to hag status.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. She began to stumble over her words, not knowing how to respond. Fukuzawa’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that Ranpo would even think he was trying to set them up. Ranpo made a disgusted face.

“No offense lady, but you don’t even look fun. Like all you do is sit in the dark and contemplate the excitement of frostingless yellow cake.”

How do you respond to that?

Y/N looked down, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was suddenly thankful for the sudden gust of wind that burned her cheeks, a sign that snow was rolling in. Who insults like that? The little sniffle that Y/N let out set Fukuzawa back into the present instead of the daydream he had slipped into where Ranpo got his ass beat.

“You can’t talk to her like that,” Fukuzawa said sternly. “And she’s not here for you.”

“Obviously. She could never handle the Greatest Detective.”

“No!” Fukuzawa said, tightening his grip on her waist. “I wanted you two to meet because we’ve been dating for a while and I thought it was finally time for you two to meet.”

Ranpo suddenly scoffed dramatically. Once. Twice. Three times. “And here I thought we agreed never to keep secrets! And all this time you’ve been giving your praise to someone else!”

Fukuzawa looked at the small man incredulously. “I’m allowed to date, Ranpo.”

“Not really!” Ranpo exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. Those who were passing by continuously glanced, wondering why they were arguing so loudly in a public space. “How gross is that! You’re like centuries old!”

“Look, I just thought you’d want to be in the know. If I had known you’d throw a tantrum, I would have just waited until after we were married.”

In that moment, Ranpo and Y/N spoke simultaneously:

“Tantrum?!”

“Married!?”

“Oh I’ll show you a tantrum!”

Ranpo pushed the old car to make it move back and forth in its parked place before beginning to punch the glass. There was no real power behind his throws, so there were soft thumps being emitted. Next he started to kick the tires, also without power behind his movements. He truly had transformed into a toddler, making the people walking by walk a little faster. He came off as some random crazy person on the street rather than an acclaimed detective.

Fukuzawa didn’t know where to look until a warm soft hand held his cheek, guiding his eyes towards Y/N’s. She smiled softly, ignoring Ranpo as he began to get physical. Her smile caused a chain reaction in Fukuzawa’s heart, making him resist the urge to get down on one knee at that very instance. He did have the ring adding weight to his pocket. She kissed his forehead, making him awkwardly bend down as she chuckled against his skin.

“You want to marry me?”

Fukuzawa blushed slightly. “In due time, of course.”

She chuckled again and nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m not calling her mom!”

#bungo stray dogs #fukuzawa yukichi #fukuzawa x reader #ranpo

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Text

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #soulmates au #businessman Castiel #mechanic Dean #profoundnet #rae writes fic #i post something new every Sunday #this one kind of got away from me #but hopefully in a good way #deancas #deancas fanfic

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ekaterinatepes · 3 years

Text

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

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A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

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A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

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ginnympotter · 3 years

Text

call it even

Chapter 2: for old times’ sake

A/N: uhhh so spoiler or whatever but this has a small amount of pretty mild smut? which i've never attempted i can't believe i'm pressing post on this thing please don't judge me lol you can also read this chapter on AO3

I’m parked between the Methodist and school.

She read the text, looked at herself in the mirror one more time, and braced herself. She took her coat off the hook and as she was zipping it up she heard her mother coming down the stairs. “Ginny, hun, are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” she said, grabbing the doorknob, trying to get out as quick as she could.

But before she could walk out Molly asked, “You know Harry could have come in, right?”

She looked at her mother’s smug smile and groaned. “Goodnight, Mom,” and swung the door shut behind her.

She walked quickly two blocks down, turned right and crossed the street. It was easy to spot Harry’s old truck, not just because there were only 3 other cars parked on that road, but also because it stuck out like a sore thumb, and also was a staple in so many of their memories. She knocked on the passenger side’s window and opened the car door, hopping into the seat. She looked over at Harry to say hi, and saw him smiling. “Hey, thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course,” Harry said as she shut the door. “But why did you make me park two blocks over?”

“Because I didn’t want it to be awkward, with me staying at my parents’ house, but it didn’t even matter because my mom just knew I was going to hang out with you.”

“Molly knows all.”

“Too much.” She looked over at their old high school building, and then at the field they were parked in front of, nostalgia filling her up. “Nice parking spot.”

“It’s weird working at the school we went to. Where those bleachers are,” Harry responded. She felt a tightness in her throat, feeling both excited and uneasy that he was already bringing these types of things up. “Remember how pissed Molly was when we skipped the prom?”

“Thank God she never found us under those,” Ginny heard herself respond. She and Harry looked at one another, twin smirks on their faces. The school bleachers might not be exactly the ideal, romantic place to lose your virginity, but for them it made total sense. She collected herself before her thoughts would get her carried away. “So, um, where to? Everywhere’s closed.”

“Did you eat already?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay, um...maybe we could just drive around for a bit? And then head back to my place for a glass of wine?”

Memories from last year flashed in her mind. She nodded and buckled herself in silently. He started the car, the engine gave a loud and disquieting noise, and then they took off. “I cannot believe this truck is still running.”

Harry lightly tapped the dashboard. “She never lets me down.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and sniggered. She looked out the window as they drove down the roads. “Believe it or not I kind of missed this place. Has it changed at all?”

“The same as it ever was,” Harry responded. “But I know you don’t like it that way.”

His eyes were on the road but she could feel what he meant without seeing his face. “I do, sometimes,” she clarified, hoping he would hear her for what she meant. “Is Dumbledore still principal?”

“Yeah, he is,” Harry told her. “And McGonagall still teaches math.”

“You were always their favorite.”

“Dumbledore’s, maybe,” he shrugged. “But McGonagall? She still goes on about my dad. They have tea together like, once a month.”

“But McGonagall let you get away with basically everything. She was just sly about it.”

“Much to Snape’s chagrin.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me he still works there?”

“Unfortunately.” Ginny blanched, and Harry laughed in appreciation. “He was so pissed when Dumbledore hired me. I just avoid him at all costs.”

“I can’t believe you willingly accepted a job where you have to see Snape every day.”

“I know. It’s worth it, though. I really love teaching,” he said. They halted at a stop sign and he used the opportunity to look at her as he said, “You helped me realize that.”

“I was a great tutee, if I do say so myself,” she smiled. “How about the coaching bit? Did the kids ever recover from their loss?”

Harry drove them around all the backroads as he talked about coaching and working at the school. Much of the anxiety she was holding inside her had slowly melted away as they eased back into their regular rapport. Her heart felt like it doubled in size as he talked about his favorite students (though at first proclaiming, “I don’t play favorites, but…”). He asked her more about life in LA and her first year being a starter.

When they arrived at Harry’s apartment, Ginny hung up her coat and watched as Harry’s eyes not so subtly raked over her body before he turned to his cabinet and took out two wine glasses. She sat in the same spot she did the last time she was on his sofa as Harry listed off various wine options. Harry updated her on all the most recent Tupelo gossip as they drank and reminisced on the different characters they grew up with. Every time he smiled she felt a piece of her heart break, she missed seeing it so much.

Harry must’ve sensed it- or perhaps he heard the crack inside her chest- as one of those times his smile dropped to a frown as he looked at her with concern. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ginny tried, taking the last sip of her wine and placing the glass down on the coffee table. She then noticed the People Magazine cover where she was in a little square on the top right for her interview with them last month.

She picked it up and held it in front of Harry, who suddenly turned red. “Er, I, um-” he stammered, and she laughed.

“Fred and George were just making fun of me for this yesterday at their party.”

“What’s to make fun of?” Harry asked, attempting to recover. “I think you did great.”

“Just a bit corny of a profile, I guess,” she responded. “Can I ask why you have it?”

Harry sighed, giving Ginny a very pointed look.

“What?”

“I have it because I was proud of you,” he replied carefully, taking another sip of his wine. “Is that a bad thing?”

And before she could register exactly what she was saying, the words “You could’ve texted me” flew out of her mouth.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “About the People profile?”

“Sure,” she said. Her brain telling her shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, but her mouth continued. “Or any other time before that. Or after I left this apartment after my brother’s wedding.”

Just as quickly as Harry’s face reddened before, it had now drained of all color. “I, er… I don’t-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat. “You could’ve texted me too, you know.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Ginny,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to do this right now. Can’t we just...enjoy our time together while you’re here? Before you leave in a few days? I don’t want to fight.”

“Why didn’t you?” she repeated, more quietly this time.

“You know why,” he said defiantly, in an equally low voice.

“I don’t, actually.”

He groaned, putting his glass down next to hers before looking at her intensely. He looked tired, sad. “Because the only thing I wanted to text you was to ask you to stay. And I couldn’t ask that; it wouldn’t be right.”

She had an inkling that this would be his answer, but it still felt nice to hear him confirm it. “No, I suppose not.”

“And I wanted to text you so many times after, but… I was too afraid of what I’d say. And then too much time passed, and- I don’t know, I’m sorry, Gin.”

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Harry blinked, taken aback by the abrupt question. “No,” he said.

“Neither am I,” she told him, and then moved closer to him, so close that their legs touched. “You’re right, you couldn’t ask me to stay. But… how about I stay the night, and we could call it even?”

It took Harry a moment to register her proposal. When he did, he swallowed, his adam’s apple protruding against his throat. “Are...are you sure?”

She decided then to let go of her inhibitions, to act on impulse and burning desire, and placed herself on his lap facing him, her knees tightly against his hips, her hands meeting on the back of his neck, lightly scratching the bottom of his scalp. “I’m sure.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Right, then,” he mumbled, and then his lips were crashing against hers, and his arms moved her impossibly closer to him. She opened her mouth and his tongue swept atop hers; Harry moaned as he did it, as Ginny moved her fingers through his hair and pressed her chest against his. They kissed passionately, slow and hot, then fast and urgent, then slowly again. They fell back into their rhythm seamlessly.

When Ginny pulled away to kiss his neck, Harry’s voice was raspy. “Fuck,” he exhaled. She moved her tongue lightly along his collar bone, up the side of his neck, and to his ear as she ground herself more firmly on his growing erection. He groaned, moving his hands to Ginny’s ass and cupping it. “Fuck,” he repeated. “I missed this. I missed you.”

She was too stimulated to think too much about his words for too long, but nevertheless, they still caused her heart to lurch. And hearing Harry express himself- even just the slightest showing of vulnerability from him- always turned her on even more. She blew hot air on his ear, nibbled on the lobe, and then pulled away to take off his sweater. He smiled in a daze as she got the sweater off of him and discarded it. He didn’t waste another second before throwing off his T-shirt (his glasses momentarily getting caught in the process) and then doing the same to her, so he could have the next several seconds to unhook her lacy blue bra and let it drop to the floor. He leaned back and admired the view of her chest, then glanced up at Ginny before touching her. She gave a quick nod and he let himself feel her breasts in his hands again for the first time in almost a year, massaging them gently, then with more power. Ginny felt herself grow hotter just watching how Harry responded to her. He leaned in and took her right breast in his mouth, using his fingers to play with her left nipple in the way that always drove her mad. She allowed herself to enjoy it fully, moaning as she pleased, arching into him, pulling at his hair as he switched from one to the other.

Before long it was too much, and she grabbed his face and disconnected his mouth from her chest so she could kiss him again. She felt her lips tingle with the touch of his tongue, her skin burn as his hands moved to her back, running down slowly to her waistband, reaching under her pants to touch her bare ass, squeezing and spreading her cheeks gently. God, she loved when he did that. After she kissed him thoroughly enough, and her pants felt too wet to wear anymore, she moved to undo Harry’s belt buckle, which in turn encouraged him to unzip her jeans. She removed herself from him so they could remove what was left of their clothes. Seeing how hard he was for her, full and bare, made her weak in the knees yet simultaneously at her most powerful. She pushed Harry back down on the couch, let her knees give in to the floor, and cupped his balls. “Ginny-” Harry grunted, but before anything else could come out of his mouth she took him in her own, licking up his length, sucking gently as she bobbed her head up and down.

It was only around thirty seconds later that Harry stopped her, pulling her head off of him. “Wait, wait, stop-”

Immediately, she felt embarrassed. “Was that...ok?”

“Oh, God, Ginny, of course, it was more than ok, it was fucking amazing but...but I want to help you out first. Please.”

“Harry, it’s fine-”

“No, please,” he said earnestly. “I want to. I really want to.”

She let go of him and nodded wordlessly. He helped her up, laid her down on the couch, and kissed her gently. He then whispered, “Let me make you happy.”

“You always make me happy,” she whispered back. His features changed from eager to wistful. He kissed her again, much more firmly this time, and then worked his mouth from her neck along her body, over each breast, her stomach, the inside of her thighs, before he reached his final destination. Ginny closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he pressed his tongue up and down against her clit.

She didn’t have to think or speak or do anything; Harry knew exactly the way she liked it, no matter how much time in between their sexual activities passed, he never lost track of exactly what made her scream, what made her shake in ecstasy, as she did only a few minutes after he began. As she came down from her high, Harry kissed his way back up her body, until reaching her cheek, which he kissed delicately. “You feel good?” he asked hoarsely.

“Mm,” was all she could respond in the moment, panting from pleasure still.

He chuckled sweetly, kissing her cheek again, then her forehead, then her lips. Once her breathing had steadied somewhat, she heard him speak again. “What else do you want?”

“To fuck you,” she breathed out.

Harry moaned at her words as he pushed his tongue back into her mouth, the vibrations sending tingles down to her toes. “Do you want to move to the bedroom?”

“We can go to your bed for round two,” she told him, smiling widely. “But round one is happening right here, right now on this couch.”

“If you insist,” he said hoarsely, moving over her, wasting not another second. They had already lost enough time.

***

Behind her eyelids, Ginny could feel the light pouring into Harry’s bedroom. She felt a twinge of joy as she moved her arms to find Harry’s torso, but all she could find were the sheets. She opened her eyes and saw that his side of the bed was empty. Her stomach fell as she scanned the room for him. She sat up and heard a bit of clanging around in the kitchen. The bedroom door was half-open. She rose from the bed, opened the drawer where Harry kept his t-shirts, and threw his go-to blue tee over her head. She stepped out of his room and walked down the hall to find Harry, wearing only a pair of boxers and his glasses, his hair as messy as ever, pouring an omelet onto a plate with expert ease.

“Morning,” she said quietly.

He turned to look at her and grinned, looking her over. “Morning. Nice shirt.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone in there. I just wanted to make you breakfast.”

“That’s sweet, Harry.” She went to sit at the island and he waved his hands. “No, no, not here!”

“Excuse me?”

“Breakfast in bed ,” he clarified. “I’ll bring it in, you go relax, I just am finishing up on the home fries and then I’ll bring it right in.”

“You sure?”

He waved his spatula in the direction of his room. “Go on, now!”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him fondly before turning around and heading back down the hall. “Fine, but I’m using your bathroom first.”

“Do what you must.”

After using the toilet and brushing her teeth, she settled back into Harry’s bed and scrolled through her phone. Only a few minutes later, Harry entered with their plates, handing one to her and planting a tender kiss on her forehead. Her insides melted at the gesture. She softly thanked him, scooted over and dug in. Harry sat on his side but at the foot of the bed, his legs folded and his plate on his lap, that way he could face her. They ate in silence, exchanging occasional grins. She felt slightly distracted by his shirtless form and the way their feet touched. When she finished she handed Harry her plate. “That was delicious, thank you. Compliments to the chef.”

“My pleasure,” he told her. “I like cooking for people.”

“Perhaps if this teaching thing doesn’t work you can go to culinary school.”

“I know you’re joking, but I’d honestly consider it,” he said as he stacked their empty plates and leaned over to put them on his bedside table. He then sat beside her and grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers. “What would you like to do today? That is, if you don’t have any other pressing plans…”

“I do have a hot date or two lined up, but I could always reschedule them for next year,” she joked.

“How kind of you,” he replied, picking up her hand and kissing it. Ginny was finding it hard to control herself with all the seemingly small, natural affection he was showing. “But really, anything in mind?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought maybe we’d sleep in half the day- just for old times’ sake?”

Harry chuckled, glancing at the clock. “It’s already 10am. You want to go back to sleep?”

“Well, maybe not right away,” she said, lacking subtlety. “Thought we could do something to tire us out first.”

“Hmm,” Harry pretended to think. “What could that be?”

She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him, and he sighed, using his free hand to cup her face. After kissing each other sweetly for a minute or two, Harry let go of her hand to grab her and pull her onto his lap. He quickly realized that other than his shirt she wasn’t wearing anything else at all, moaning as he grabbed her ass. He deepened the kiss and Ginny became wrapped up in its intensity, returning it right to him, her hands wrapped up in his hair. Although her body was in the driver’s seat, her mind and heart were racing, thinking about how much this man meant to her, how much she felt like herself when she was with him, how much he made her feel like she could do anything. She cherished every second she could steal with him, before all she’d have is memories to replay until the next time, cementing the feel and the taste of him into her brain. She didn’t want it to ever end.

But not before long, Harry seemed to slow down, and then he pulled away altogether. When Ginny leaned back in to continue the kiss, he barely reciprocated.

“Harry?” she asked, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, I…” He looked at her and she could see the storm of emotions in his emerald eyes. He leaned his head against hers and exhaled. “I’m fine. But...can we pause this for a moment? Can we talk?”

A wave of dread washed over her as she nodded her head and removed herself from his lap. Sensing her tension, Harry grabbed her hand again, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “What is it?” she asked reluctantly.

He inhaled deeply, his forehead creased. “When you leave later today, I… I don’t want it to be like last time.”

“Well, that’s easy then,” Ginny told him, attempting a smile. “All you have to do is text me when I land back in L.A. this time.”

“And what would that imply, exactly?” Harry questioned. “Me texting you, that is.”

“It-” but Ginny realized she didn’t really have an answer- or, at least, she couldn’t give the answer she really wanted. “It would mean that this wasn’t just some meaningless thing to you.”

Harry frowned, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Is that what you really thought? Or what you’ll think if you leave later?”

Ginny considered his question. “I suppose not.”

“Of course not,” he corrected her, speaking with conviction as he squeezed her hand. “Ginny… I still-”

“Stop,” she interrupted him. “Don’t say it.”

She wanted to hear him say it, of course she did, but she would never be able to leave if she let him continue. She felt her heart break a bit at Harry’s disappointed expression. “What do you want me to say then?” he asked, his voice quiet but his tone stabbing. “That I don’t care about you? That I don’t miss you? That I don’t think about you every time I try to date someone else? I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to hear, but I have to tell you, I can’t even fathom you thinking for even one second that anything between us could ever be meaningless to me. I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I don’t know how to do this.”

“No,” she said as she put a hand on his leg. She couldn’t take it anymore. He was right, hearing all of that was too hard for her. Knowing the feelings are mutual “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… The meaningless thing was an overreaction, alright? I know… we’ll always mean so much to each other.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes, his thinking face on. Ginny knew that face too well, and she knew he was trying to work out in his mind how to phrase all his feelings. “I just don’t understand why we gave up two years ago. We did long distance from your senior year in high school through all of college and it was fine. I didn’t want to break up. But you were so insistent that this is what was best once you got a spot on the team and I didn’t want to feel like I had to persuade you to stay together and I just…”

Ginny’s heart dropped into her stomach. There was such an ache in his voice… it hurt her to hear. “I don’t know, Harry, I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing,” she settled on. How could she explain giving up on them to him? To herself? “College was one thing, but as working adults? It just felt like we’d never be in the same place, we’d never be able to actually spend time together… I didn’t want to hold you back. I didn’t realize you…that you would’ve… I thought we were on the same page, I’m sorry.”

“No, I should’ve fought harder for us,” he told her, eyes blazing. “It’s not too late, is it?”

Ginny exhaled as Harry squeezed her hand again. “Harry, I can’t stay here-“

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Well, I can’t ask you to wait for me. I don’t know what’s going to come with my career.”

“I don’t care how far apart we are,” he asserted. “I don’t want to be with anyone else- I’ve tried, and I’m sure you have too, but we always end up back here, don’t we? I want to be with you. We can figure the rest out as we go. It’s us, you know?”

He smirked at the end of his sentence, and all the feelings she’d been holding in for two years seemed to boil over at once. God, she missed that smile. The same smile as the one she dreamed about every day when she was only 11 and he spent every summer day over at their house with Ron. The same smile that he gave her after their first kiss, and after they skipped the prom and hid out under the bleachers, and when he came home to visit from college for the first time, and when he visited her in her dorm, and when he saw her standing in her bridesmaid dress at Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and then when he took it off of her later that night, and when they bumped into each other at the airport a few months ago, and just last night as she curled up against him in his bed and kissed him goodnight.

Tears warned to spill over, and she cursed herself for blinking one free. Harry put a hand on her face and wiped it for her with his thumb. He looked deeply into her eyes, which only caused more tears to fall. He wiped another for her, and then he kissed one away, and then he kissed her lips so gently she could barely register it.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice for some type of answer.

She looked away from him, staring down at their knees. “I still don’t know, Harry. I’m confused. Everything you’re saying… I want that, I do, but it just doesn’t… seem practical. And… I mean, if we did get back together, what about everything after that? Do you want to stay in Tupelo forever?”

“Not necessarily,” he responded flatly. “I love my job now but I don’t know if I’ll still want to be here in a few years… But do we need to be making those types of decisions now?”

“Well if we don’t, then what? We get back together and three years down the line we break up because we realize we’re still not on the same page? I don’t want to waste either of our time.”

Harry let out a defeated sigh, causing Ginny to look up again. The fire in his eyes was being stomped out by disappointment. “Gin, listen… all I know is that ever since I was sixteen all I’ve wanted is to be with you, whatever it took to make that happen. That hasn’t changed, not one bit, even nine years later. I know we can make it work. If it’s not what you want… I don’t want you to be with me if you aren’t fully in it. But I want to be in your life. I don’t know what that looks like for you right now, but however it does, I’ll be there. Even if that’s only as your brother’s best friend.” He offered a sad smile as he finished.

But you’re so much more than that , she wanted to say, but felt like that’d just be proving his point, and she still felt too confused and overwhelmed. Selfishly, she leaned in and kissed him, long enough to memorize the feeling for later but quickly enough to prevent any further persuasion from the magic of his mouth. She braced herself for her own heart’s self-destruction as she opened her eyes and said, “I think I should go home, now.”

Harry’s sadness lingered for a moment, before he channeled his expertise of shutting down, his features flickering to blankness. “If...if that’s what you want. Let me drive you home, at least?”

She wanted to say no, that she’d just order an Uber, but her mouth betrayed her. “Ok.”

He let go of her hand and stood up. “I’ll, er, just throw on some clothes real quick, then run and grab yours and leave you to get dressed.”

She nodded and watched him throw on a pair of jeans, an undershirt, a jumper, and socks rather haphazardly. She listened as his feet creaked across the hallway floors, and waited with bated breath as he made his way back moments later, handing her a pile of her clothes. She muttered a “thank you” and averted his eyes as she took them.

“Take your time,” he told her gently, and made his way back out.

The moment the door clicked closed, she clenched her eyes shut and pushed out all the tears she could, so none would escape for him to see when she would have to face him again. She wiped her face and felt the warmth leave her as she got up from his bed, her haven. She threw off his shirt and put on her clothes from the night before, but folded up his t-shirt and stuffed it in her purse. It was an unspoken agreement between them that she could take as many of his t-shirts as she liked; he bought extras just for her.

She looked in the mirror, quickly threw her hair back in a low ponytail, and inhaled deeply, as if the air entering her lungs would give her courage to move forward as she opened up his bedroom door and walked towards the entrance.

Harry had his sneakers on, her shoes lined up and her coat ready for her in his hands. She slipped on her shoes and against her better judgment she allowed him to slip her jacket on for her, arm by arm. She hated the electricity that crackled through their every touch. She did not want to leave, she hated herself for leaving, even.

As if he sensed her self-deprecation, he took hold of her hand after it slipped through the sleeve. “Gin, it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t believe him, of course, it was just his typical optimism in order to protect everyone he loved, Except it made Harry look out for everyone else’s comfort at his own expense.

He grabbed his keys and led them out of his flat. They got into his car quietly. Without taking the backroads, the ride was relatively short, only taking 3 songs on the classic rock station of his ancient car radio to make it back to her home, the Burrow.

He parked right outside, which was a mistake, as her mother was out in the front with their family dog, Pig. She was wise enough to just offer a wave and a smile and resume walking with him.

Harry turned to her and asked in a low rasp, “Can I see you again? Before you fly back? Will you still be at your family’s for New Year's?”

“Yeah, I will,” she told him. “I’ll...I’ll see you there.”

Harry nodded. He clicked the unlock button for the doors. “Just...just think about what I said, alright?”

Ginny swallowed, nodding back. “I will.”

He kissed her cheek, his lips burning against her cold skin, and as he pulled away he leaned over to open her door for her. She attempted a smile in thanks, hopped out of his truck, and closed the door gently behind her.

She didn’t look back as she walked through her lawn, as she heard him call out to her mother, “See you soon, Mrs. Weasley!,” as Pig barked merrily at him and Harry laughed out, “I’ll see you soon, too, Pig!” before driving away.

She was grateful that her mother didn’t pursue her as her legs worked their hardest to get her to the door, through the entrance, and up the flight of stairs to her room, into her own bed, waiting for a sense of safety or relief that never came.

#hp #fanfic #hp fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #au #alternate universe #modern au #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry/ginny #harry potter/ginny weasley #fanfiction #fan fiction

48 notes · View notes

httpjeon · 5 years

Text

lovebug — jimin (m.)

jimin/reader | angst, fluff, smut | hybrid!au

wordcount: 12k

contents: spider hybrid!jimin, hybrid mistreatment/bullying, love self esteem/self-worth, arguments, crying, physical altercation between jimin & reader, name-calling, attachment anxiety, possessiveness, kissing, scenting, dom!jimin, manhandling, size kink/difference, fingering, dirty talk, cunnilingus, sensitivity kink, wet & messy, lots of cum, cumflation, jimins duality

— synopsis: hybrids are lovable companions for humans. unfortunately, most people simply want a cat or dog with which they can cuddle and love on. while looking for one to adopt, a lonesome hybrid of an unusual breed catches your eye.

note: part of the unadoptable series; masterlist will be coming soon!

blog masterlist

Deciding to get a hybrid is a big responsibility. They require abundant care and love — having been genetically modified as an attempt at a 'super species' when the human race was close to dying out as an attempt to preserve the DNA of humanity.

Now, however, through years of evolution, they have simply become a daily part of life as companions for humans.

After moving out of your college dorm and into a new apartment, you found yourself extremely lonely. So, you decided that perhaps you could look into getting a hybrid. You saved as much money as you could — hybrids were expensive after all.

"Are you sure you want to get one from the shelter?" your friend, Minah, asked as you walked with her on the bustling streets of Seoul, "I mean, a couple more months of saving and you could find a hybrid breeder—"

"I don't really care about that," you waved her off, "I'm not looking to get the best hybrid out there. I just want someone to keep me company."

"Still...a shelter...you don't know where these hybrids have been," she cringed, opening the door which made the bell above it ring to indicate the store there were customers, "They could have diseases or be aggressive."

"I assure you, all our hybrids are tested for diseases and aggressive ones are rehabilitated to become suitable companions," a lady wearing a uniform smiled, hands clasped behind her back. Her name tag read 'Nayeon', "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm looking to get a hybrid," you said sheepishly, heart pounding in excitement as she grinned.

"Excellent! Do you have a type in mind? We have an excellent selection of feline and canine hybrids," she looked at you expectantly as you thought it over.

"I...didn't really think about it," you shrugged, "I just figured I'd look and see if any caught my eye, you know?"

"I understand," Nayeon nodded, seemingly unbothered by your indecisiveness, "Well, you can go through those doors and have a look at the hybrids available."

"Thanks," you smiled, tugging Minah's hand until she began to follow you.

Once you pushed the doors open, you were met with a long hallway that seemed to divert left and right. The floors were white linoleum and the fluorescent lights made the white walls seem glaringly bright. The walls were lined with large viewing windows that allowed you to peer into each hybrid's room.

As you walked, you could see the cat hybrid sleeping and dog hybrids busying themselves energetically. You reached the end of the hallway and paused, looking both ways to decide where to go.

"It looks like it's mostly empty down here," Minah said as she walked a couple of feet into the left hallway.

"Then we'll go right," you smiled, taking a look in the windows. It seemed they were mostly rabbit, rodent, and reptile hybrids in this section.

You were just beginning to give up when something caught your eye — a quick flash of purple. Pausing, you backed up a couple steps to look in once again.

"Whoa...creepy..." Minah squinted into the room that was seemingly covered in webbing with a purple haired hybrid sitting with his back to you.

He didn't have any hybrid ears or a tail and he looked strikingly like a human. Minah picked up the clipboard that held the information on the hybrid inside.

"Spider hybrid?" Minah cringed and made a sound of disgust, "Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

"I haven't, no..." you tore your eyes from his vibrant purple hair to look at the clipboard. "He's 24...no specific breed."

"Don't you think the concept of having a hybrid that'd older than you...strange?" Minah asked thoughtfully, "I think I'd have to get one that’s younger than me...the power balance seems weird otherwise."

"I haven't really thought about it..." you mumbled as you looked around his room.

There was no bed, instead there was a concentration of webbing in one corner that you assumed he probably used for a bed. You could see that he was messing with something in his hands but since his back was to you, you couldn't make out what exactly it was.

"Do you have your eye on anything—" Nayeon approached the two of you and paused. "I see you've found Jimin."

"Yeah, what the hell is up with him?" Minah asked, tapping on the glass. The hybrid inside showed no signs of caring. "I didn't even know spider hybrids existed."

"Ah yes...Jimin is quite special. It's very rare to have insect hybrids," Nayeon said.

"Spiders aren't insects," you said suddenly, taking the clipboard from Minah's hands, "They're arachnids."

"Same thing," Minah mumbled, "Quit looking at him."

"There isn't much information on him," you said, looking to Nayeon as Minah scoffed at you ignoring her.

"Oh um...Jimin is..." Nayeon shifted on her feet, "Well, he's a spider...not many people want a spider hybrid. They'd prefer one they can hold and hug and show affection to. Also...he makes webs and it’s such a huge mess...just not a very house-friendly pet, you know? Most people are creeped out by him."

"Me included," Minah mumbled, side-eyeing Jimin inside his room as Nayeon nodded in agreement.

"I can't go in there...he gives me the creeps. None of the staff really go in there and to be honest he's not very social," Nayeon explained. "Jimin, can you say hi?"

"He can hear us?" you asked, eyes widening as she nodded. You were shocked to hear her speak meanly of the hybrid when he could hear her words.

"See? He doesn't really care about anyone," Nayeon explained, motioning towards where Jimin kept his back to the window as he continued to mess with whatever was in his hands.

"What can you expect from a spider? I'm pretty sure spiders are just like..." Minah motioned vaguely with her hands as she spoke, "Emotionless. They don't have like...consciousness like cats and dogs do, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Nayeon nodded with a sigh. "So, have any hybrids caught your eye, ma'am?"

"I actually..." you smiled lightly towards Jimin's figure.

"Oh...you really don't want him. Trust me," Nayeon shook her head. "Lots of people think they do but the second you go in there and meet him..."

"He's weird and creepy, I swear to God _____ if you get a spider hybrid I will actually beat you up," Minah grabbed your arm and tugged on you, "Please just get a cat or something I won't ever be able to come over if you get him. He's gross!"

You sighed, placing the clipboard up as you got fed up with Minah's whining. As she began to tug you away, you caught sight of what Jimin had been messing with in his hand — a little figurine made of web.

"I swear I'm never going to get the idea of a spider hybrid out of my mind now," Minah mumbled as you made your way home, "Are you seriously not going to check out any other shelters today?"

"Nah," you waved her off, "I'm pretty tired. I'll go tomorrow and see if I can find anyone."

"I have work tomorrow, I won't be able to come!" Minah whined, tossing her head back as she groaned.

You smiled, shrugging your shoulders, "I'm sure I can survive on my own. I'm a big girl."

"You say that as if I didn't stop you from getting a spider as a hybrid!" she cried, shoving your shoulder playfully, "Promise me you won't get any weird hybrids."

"I promise nothing," you turned your back to her, ignoring her whining your name as you disappeared into your apartment building.

You held your bag by your side, swinging it mindlessly as you stood in the elevator on the way up to your apartment. For some reason, your heart felt heavy and you couldn't help but flop onto your bed with a big sigh the second you stepped into your bedroom.

Staring up at the ceiling, your mind drifted to Jimin — unsure why the hybrid left such an impact on you.

When you woke up the next day, you still felt that heavy feeling hanging over you. As you got ready, you were looking up hybrid centers you could stop by to look at their selection.

Instead of going to the one you decided, a small family owned adoption center, you walked the same path as yesterday until you ended up in front of the same hybrid place you went to with Minah.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked at the door as you tried to decide what to do.

Suddenly, the door opened and a couple walked out snickering.

"Did you see it? How weird," the woman mumbled, "I couldn't even look at it without feeling sick."

"A hybrid like that should just be put down, no one's going to adopt it..." the man added, shoving his hands in his pockets, "It's probably just going to die in there."

"It probably doesn't even care...it's just a bug," the woman said before taking her partner's hand as they walked away.

After hearing them talk like that, you found yourself filled with determination to enter the building.

"Hi welcome!" a new woman was working at the main desk — her name tag indicating her as Yuri, "What can I help you with?"

"I'd like to adopt Jimin," you blurted out, watching as she froze where she stood blinking as if your words had thrown her through a loop.

"You...the spider, Jimin?" she asked, mouth falling open in surprise when you nodded, "I...are you sure? I mean there are plenty of other suitable hybrids—"

"I want Jimin," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"This has to be a joke," Yuri scoffed, customer service attitude dropping as she stared at you, "No one wants Jimin. You're just going to regret it."

"Whether I do or not isn't any of your business," you snapped, growing tired of her refusal to let you adopt him.

"How can you want a hybrid like that? Are you crazy?" she spat, narrowing her eyes to glare at you.

"What's going on here?" a sudden, masculine voice emerged from a once closed door behind the reception desk.

Yuri visibly tensed, her eyes going wide as she turned around to look, "M-Mr. Namjoon, sir...I-I didn't know you were in..."

"Right..." the man named Namjoon frowned down at her before looking at you, "Is everything alright?"

"I want to adopt Jimin and she's not letting me," you quickly ratted the rude girl out, not caring for her job after her attitude.

"Jimin?" Namjoon asked, shock evident on his face. "Are you sure?"

You were getting ready to argue again, when he suddenly reached over the reception desk to pull out a form. As he handed it to you, you realized it was an adoption form.

"M-Mr. Namjoon...surely you can't—"

"Yuri, you're dismissed," Namjoon snapped, pointing towards the door without giving her a single look. She scoffed, angrily grabbing her bag from by her chair before storming past you, muttering under her breath as she left.

You grabbed a pen and began to fill out the information on the page, acutely aware of Namjoon's eyes on you. He didn't say anything, however, so you tried your best not to pay him any mind.

Just as you were about to sign your name on the bottom, he placed his hand on the paper to stop you.

"If this is a joke..." he said, looming over you with a frown on his handsome face, "Then it's gone far enough."

"Why does everyone keep criticizing me," you mumbled, standing up straight to look at him.

"No one has ever...genuinely adopted Jimin or even really tried to adopt him," Namjoon explained, "He has been here for over 10 years...in that room, alone," you were shocked to see the way his eyes became glassy with tears, "So if you're planning...to get his hopes up for a sick joke...I really don't think he can handle it."

"I thought no one cared about him here?" you asked, watching his brows furrow,

"Who said that?" he asked.

"Girl named Nayeon," you shrugged, "I came here yesterday and she and my friend told me not to adopt him. I got annoyed so I left and came back without Minah so I could do this without her yelling at me."

"Well she's wrong," Namjoon said, "I own this center. I care for each and every hybrid that comes through those doors no matter where they come from, what breed or species they are, or how they act. Jimin is..." he sighed, "Jimin is special. No one ever looked twice at him unless it's to belittle him."

"Do people...try to adopt him as a joke?" you asked, your heart aching at the sympathetic pain that was in Namjoon's eyes as he nodded.

"A couple times," he said, "Stupid dares or attempts to look cool...they always get his hopes up only to be told it's a joke and that no one really wanted him to begin with."

"That's terrible..." your eyes burned with the appearance of tears at Namjoon's story.

"So please..." Namjoon whispered, voice cracking, "I am begging you to only do this...if you really want him."

"I really do," you said, meeting his gaze as he stared at you for several seconds. He seemed to be thinking it over, whether to believe you or not. Slowly, he removed his hand and nodded, "I'll go get him."

You nodded, watching him disappear down the hallway before signing your name on the indicated lines. Standing there, you couldn't help but think back on Namjoon's words. No doubt Jimin faced a lot of cruelty and ugliness in his lifetime. The very thought of him being shut in a room, forced to listen to people call him names for 10 years had your eyes filling with tears.

You would do everything in your power to make him happy with you.

"You're still here..." Namjoon's voice had you jumping and you spun on your heel to find him standing there — alone.

"Um...of course..." you shrugged, "Where's Jimin?"

"I didn't get him yet," Namjoon explained, walking up to you with his arms crossed over his chest, "Usually when I leave to get him...people run away. So..."

"You decided to test me," you said, chuckling when he nodded, "Did I pass?"

"You'll pass when you pay for him first," he said, rounding the reception desk to take a seat in front of the computer.

"Locking me in with the cash, huh?" you shook your head, slightly offended that he believed you were such a bad person but also understanding his desire to protect Jimin.

You opened your purse and pulled out your wallet, passing your debit card over to him. He held it in his fingers for a moment, looking at it with his jaw clenched. As you were about to question him, he punched a few things into the keyboard and slid your card into the chip reader.

"Alright," he printed the receipt and stood, handing it over to you.

"Hey..." you stopped him before he could get too far, "You only charged me $100. Isn't it supposed to cost $1,000?"

"Keep your money for Jimin," Namjoon said, giving you a dimpled smile before turning and disappearing into the double doors leading to the hybrids once again.

You stuffed the receipt into your purse and inhaled deeply as you waited for them to come back. The doors were pushed open and you turned around to see Jimin face-to-face for the first time.

He met your gaze for a fraction of a second — long enough for you to get a look at his face. His eyes were a striking amber brown with split pupils — two in each eye. The vibrant color seemed even more so against his black sclera. You could see the faintest sign of fangs poking out from between his lips. He quickly looked down at the floor as he and Namjoon approached you.

"Hi Jimin," you greeted with a smile. He didn't respond to you and you deflated slightly before looking to Namjoon, "Thank you so much. We should probably get home so he can get settled in."

"I think that's a good idea," Namjoon said, placing his hand on Jimin's back to urge him forward. The hybrid easily moved closer to you and you were able to see the wisps of web that were attacked to his hair, clothes, and skin. "Bye Jimin."

Jimin froze for a moment, looking over his shoulder at Namjoon. You watched for a second as Namjoon's eyes grew glassy and it occurred to you that Namjoon was losing Jimin after 10 years. Jimin reached out to place his hand against Namjoon's arm.

"You know..." you paused, making both of them look at you, "You have...my address and phone number on the file now. So...if you want to visit any time...you are more than welcome to. I don't live far from here...just a few blocks. I walked here today."

"Really?" Namjoon brightened up, smiling until his dimples appeared, "I appreciate that. I promise I'll visit you, Jimin, okay?"

The hybrid nodded, a smile of his own appearing — letting you see the sharp fangs in his mouth. The way he smiled caused his eyes to scrunch closed and you couldn't help but smile alongside him. He was cute.

"It's not much..." you mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your little apartment, "There's a spare room you can have but you'll have to share the bathroom with me."

He stood in the entryway, looking around with wide eyes at the living room. His mouth was open a bit and he looked amazed.

"It's...nice," he said, speaking the first words to you. His voice was soft, holding a gentle melody to it.

"Thank you," you smiled, waving him over to follow you, "I'll show you your room."

He eagerly trailed behind you, hot on your heels as you made your way down the small hallway to the last room — right across from yours.

"Is this it?" he asked as you pushed the door open, "My room?"

"Yeah, mine's across the hall," you said, stepping aside to let him step into the room. "It uh...doesn't have a bed but...I saw you didn't have one at the center so..."

"I don't need one," he said, confirming your suspicion, "Is it...alright for me to...web?"

"Um...yeah, it should be," you bit your lip, accidentally meeting his curious gaze.

"Do you not like the webs?" he asked, the happy glow around him vanishing, "I-I won't web anywhere else in the house, I promise. Or...if you think it's gross I can try not to but—"

"Hey, it's alright," you chuckled, shaking your head, "I was just worried that the web might mess up the walls or something. If there's damage then I won't get my deposit back on this place."

"Oh..." he relaxed and looked around, humming, "I don't think it will do anything. It's really soft and it's never pulled paint or anything."

"It should be fine," you waved him off with a smile, "If something happens we can lie or something," he smiled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, "I'll leave you to do...whatever you gotta do."

"Okay," he said, a smile still lingering on his lips as you stepped out and closed to door behind you.

As you stood in the kitchen, you suddenly realized that you had no earthly idea what Jimin would eat. You hummed, going over your options before deciding you'd just ask him.

He'd been holed up in his room for a couple hours so you hoped it'd been long enough. Stopping at his door, you knocked a few times as you waited for him to answer.

"Come in!" he called and you pushed the door open.

"Whoa," you paused, looking around at the changed room.

There was a thick cave of web in the corner that he was sitting in front of, softly smoothing his hands over. He looked over his shoulder with a smile.

"I got my nest done," he explained proudly, "I didn't get to do anything else but...oh well, I have time."

"Yeah, you do," you nodded, "Hey Jimin...what do you eat?"

His smile disappeared immediately and you were worried you'd offended him somehow but before you could apologize, he spoke up, "What do you eat?"

"Um...mostly ramen or cereal, not really healthy stuff," you shrugged, "I get take out a lot — chicken or pizza."

"I eat whatever you eat," he smiled, nodding his head.

"Are you sure?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, "If you're just saying that because you're worried about bothering me, please don't. I have money saved up specifically for you so if there's anything special you need, Jimin..."

Jimin looked anxious for a second, twirling a piece of his web around his finger, "I really do eat anything you do but...there is something..."

"What is it?" you urged, kneeling on the floor beside him.

"It's really hard to get a hold of and I think it's kind of expensive..." he meekly met your gaze, giving you a small half-smile, "There's a special treat that Namjoon sometimes got for me — it's called SpiderSnack...it has supplements and things in it that...help web production and other stuff..."

"Do you know how to get it?" you asked, which Jimin hummed in response.

"I think there's a website online, Namjoon always told me it was delivered so..." he shrugged, sitting back on his hands, "You really don't have to get it though."

"I have no problems getting it," you smiled, patting his shoulder before standing up, "Now come on and help me decide what to get for dinner."

"Alright," he stood up and quickly followed you out of the room and into the living room.

It didn't take long for Jimin to decide he wanted a cheese pizza, which you happily ordered for him.

Once you were both finished eating, he decided to head back into his room to rest. After bidding him goodnight, you curled up on the couch with your favorite movie playing.

At some point, you'd fallen asleep. However, you were woken up by a soft sniffle coming from beside you. The sound had your eyes fluttering open, frowning as you saw Jimin sitting on the floor watching the TV play.

"Jimin?" you asked drowsily, sitting up.

He looked over his shoulder and you could see, off the reflection from the TV, there were tears on his cheeks, "S-Sorry...did I wake you?"

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" you asked, sitting up and kneeling on the floor beside him. "Why're you crying?"

"I...I don't know," he chuckled humorlessly as he wiped his cheeks, "I was trying to sleep and came out to get a drink and saw you sleeping here...I just...got emotional."

You smiled, placing your hand on his back, "A lot happened today, it's okay."

"Why did you adopt me, ______?" he asked suddenly, turning his teary gaze to you.

You were quiet for a moment, staring into his eyes — his double pupils trembling slightly, "I don't know...I couldn't stop thinking about you when I went home. I woke up that morning and I just knew that...I wanted to have you here with me."

He smiled, more tears falling from his eyes as he leaned forward and engulfed you in a warm hug. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his middle to hug him back.

"I'm so grateful..." he whispered, "No one but Namjoon has ever treated me the way you have. Even if you decide to give me back...I'll be happy because I've now felt kindness from someone."

"I won't give you back, Jimin," you promised, your own voice becoming watery with your tears, "You're here to stay and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Hey...how old are you?" Jimin asked, taking a bite out of his toast.

"22," you replied, jumping when he gasped.

"I'm older than you!" he laughed, fangs glistening in the sunlight.

"Don't let it get to your head," you mumbled, a slight pout evident in your voice.

Jimin laughed happily, his smile contagious.

"Hey, can I watch TV?" he asked suddenly.

"You don't have to ask, go for it," you said as you collected the dishes to prepare for washing them.

Just as you turned on the water, however, your doorbell went off. Jimin was standing in front of the TV, remote in hand as he stared at the door. You noticed the strong frown on his lips and the dark look in his eyes. He watched the door as if he were ready to attack whoever was on the other side.

Opening the door, you gasped when you saw Minah's beaming smile.

"Hey!" she giggled, stepping into the apartment. "Did you—" she froze when her eyes landed on Jimin.

"Um...Minah..." you swallowed nervously, "This is Jimin. I adopted him yesterday."

"You did what?" a look of what you could only describe as disgust crossed her face as she looked at Jimin.

Jimin had lost all light to him, curling in on himself as he kept his head down. You could see his hands were shaking as he held the remote. Your heart ached at the sight.

"_____, this is ridiculous!" Minah cried, turning to you almost angrily, "You got a spider hybrid? What is wrong with you? Who the hell goes to adopt a hybrid and thinks 'hmm gee a gross webbing freak would make a good pet!'"

Before you could say anything, Jimin dropped the remote to the floor and took off down the hallway — slamming his bedroom door shut.

"Minah!" you snapped as you turned back to her, "Just because he's different doesn't mean there's anything wrong with him! He's been called names all his life, I'm not going to let someone come into my house and do it to him!"

"_____, I'm sor—"

"Just save it," you hissed, yanking the front door open as a signal for her to leave.

"You can't be throwing me out over him!" she gasped, offended, "I told you if you got that bug—"

"Just get out!" your words made her flinch and she pursed her lips before storming out.

Slamming the door, you let out a sigh. Running your hands through your hair, you realized you were shaking. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself before making your way down the hallway to Jimin's room.

"Jimin?" you called through the door, tapping on it a couple times. He didn't answer and you sighed, "I'm coming in, okay?"

He still didn't respond and you pushed the door open. You jumped when your face was met with wisps of web. Waving your hand in front of your face, you broke the strands and stepped inside the room.

It was basically fully webbed and it felt almost like cotton beneath your feet — soft and fluffy. Making your way across the room, you stopped at the opening to his nest, kneeling down to peer in.

He was sitting down, knees drawn to his chest as he cried. Your heart ached at the sight and you sighed.

"Jimin..." you reached inside the nest to touch him but were met with a sudden, sharp slap that had you retracting your hand. You hissed in pain, bringing it to your chest as the skin burned from the impact.

"I should have known you were just like the rest!" he hissed, the glare on his face was nothing short of hateful.

"Wh-What're you talking about?" your own eyes becoming teary. You felt hurt that Jimin had hit you and was now speaking and looking at you like he couldn't stand you.

"Bringing your friend over to make me feel like shit!" he snapped, a curse surprising you, "I know you think I'm just a disgusting little insect you can step all over but I'm not!"

You gasped, flinching when he shouted the last word. Quicker than you could react, he was shooting from the entrance, knocking you to the side as he stood above you. His shoulders were heaving with anger but there were still tears falling from his eyes.

"Jimin—"

"Don't!" he shouted, shaking his head, "You're just like every other human. You're never going to accept me...I should have known you could never love me..." his anger seemed to dissipate as quickly as it appeared, "I'm not a cat or a dog but...I feel just like they do. Why...why aren't I deserving of affection and care like they are? I always have to watch normal hybrids go to good homes and find someone who will hug them and make them happy. I thought," he paused as a sob broke through his lips, hanging his head, "I thought I could be like that but instead I get stuck with a bitch who thinks it's fun to hurt me for a good laugh!"

Your mouth fell open at the insult, unable to say anything as he turned his back to you. Scrambling to your feet, you breezed past him, pulling the door shut behind you before going into your own room to cry.

The impact Jimin had on you was incredible. In just a day, you already felt nothing but love for him. But in the same amount of time, you'd managed to become the source of hatred. His words continued to bounce around your head as you stayed holed up in your room. Your phone went off, showing a few texts from Minah but you ignored them, intent on letting her know you weren't willing to forgive her for this.

What hurt the most, however, was the guilt you felt over allowing him to be hurt so severely. You'd brought him into your home to make him feel safe and just one thing went wrong and that safe space was shattered for him.

A few days went by with no sign of Jimin. You could hear him leave the room in the middle of the night to get some food or to use the bathroom before he shut himself away once more until the next night. He was doing everything in his power to shut you out and you were too scared to try and corner him. You didn't want to upset him like that again — listening to the way he cried and talked down about himself broke your heart.

He was so wrong, thinking he wasn't good enough to be loved. You wanted to tell him, but there was no way he would listen to you.

You sat on the floor of the living room, typing away on your laptop as you had an essay due for your class. You were on a roll when the doorbell ringing broke you out of your groove. Sighing, you got to your feet and opened the front door.

There was nobody at the door, however, instead there was a package sitting on the floor. Bending down, you scooped it up and brought it inside, kicking the door shut with your foot before bringing the package to the kitchen. With the help of the scissors, you managed to slice the tape and pull the cardboard flaps open.

The words SpiderSnack popped out in bright red letters and you smiled. Pulling it from the box, you took a look at it. Inside the bag looked similar to Chex Mix.

Tapping your fingers on the counter, you debated what you could do. You took a look down the hallway. He most likely wouldn't answer if you knocked on the door.

He would come out later that night, however. Taking a sticky note from the magnetic ones that were on your fridge, you wrote a quick note and stuck it onto the bag.

An olive branch, perhaps.

Smiling, you went back to your computer to attempt to complete your essay.

Entering the kitchen the next morning, you paused when you saw the SpiderSnack still sitting on the counter. The sticky note had been pulled off, crumpled, and tossed away like trash. You bit your lip to keep your tears at bay as disappointment washed over you. Attempt apparently not accepted.

You were laid in bed, watching a stupid reality TV show to pass the time as you had no desire to be up for the day. Suddenly, your phone being to angrily buzz from its place on the nightstand. Jumping, you snatched it up to see an unfamiliar number calling. Swiping to answer, you brought it up to your ear.

"Hello?" you asked through a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

"_____! It's Namjoon," you froze and sat up.

"Oh...hey, Namjoon," you winced at how stiff you sounded.

"How is Jimin doing?" the dreaded question had you casting your eyes downward in shame. How were you meant to tell the man that entrusted you with Jimin that you'd essentially broke his heart, "Is something the matter?"

"I..." before you could get any further, you burst into tears. Namjoon hurriedly spoke from the other side, urging you to calm down and tell him what was going on. After a moment of you attempting to get your breathing under control, he fell silent.

"You regret it, don't you?" his voice was dark, "Thought you wanted him and now you realize...you're trapped with a creepy hybrid you don't actually like as much as you thought you did."

"No!" you cried out immediately, your own volume startling you, "Th-That's not it at all! I just...something went wrong and now he just...he won't come out and I'm pretty sure he can't stand me now."

"What happened?" Namjoon asked, sounding less angry than he did a second ago.

"My friend came over...she got mad that I chose to get Jimin instead of another hybrid," you explained, sniffling as another wave of tears came over you, "She started saying awful things in front of Jimin and now he thinks I set him up for that."

Namjoon sighed, "What'd she say?"

Um," you thought back, "She called him a freak...I can't really remember it, Jimin and I got into a fight afterwards."

"He's rightfully upset," Namjoon's words had a sob breaking from your lips.

"I know...I-I'm so sorry, I didn't think it through. I-I was so caught up in-in getting him settled I forgot to let anyone know," you explained tearfully, covering your mouth as your breathing stuttered slightly, "Maybe I should just...give him back..."

"That would only hurt him more," Namjoon said, "Jimin's more fragile than he looks and when he's hurt he gets tunnel vision...he only wants to see what he thinks it the truth and refuses to listen to anything otherwise. I don't think giving him up is the right thing to do."

"He's only miserable here now," you mumbled, "He stays in his room all day and only comes out for a few minutes each night. It's not fair for him to live like that so he can avoid me."

"I see..." he fell silent once more, "I'm going to hang up now. Please call me when you've made a decision."

Before you could reply, he hung up and you were left with just the TV once more. You buried your face in your hands and cried out everything you needed to before laying back down to try and nap.

You heard a door creak open, rousing you from sleep. Your eyes burned as you opened them, feeling swollen from crying. Sitting up, you realized the TV was still on and night had fallen. You'd slept the day away.

Sighing, you grabbed the remote and began channel surfing for something more interesting to watch as you flicked the lamp on. It was going to screw your sleep schedule up but you didn't feel like sleeping anymore.

As you sat against the headboard, holding a pillow in your lap, you heard three delicate knocks on the door. Your heart stuttered in your chest and you called for him to come in.

He pushed the door open slowly before peeking his head inside, the mop of purple hair untamed and hanging in his face.

"I saw...your lamp turn on..." he said as he stood in the doorway anxiously.

"Ah...couldn't sleep," you explained, shrugging your shoulders.

It felt so tense and awkward around him now and that broke your heart. You bit your lip to keep yourself from breaking into tears again. Jimin slowly approached the bed, weight causing the floorboards to creak beneath him. He was silent as he stood beside you, running his tongue over his fangs.

"Please don't send me back," your head snapped up when you heard him whimper out the words. "I-I heard you on the phone...I'm sorry, ______. I'll do anything, I don't want to be put in that room again to have people stare at me like I'm a freak show."

"Are you sure?" you asked, your own tears breaking free, "I don't want you to have to live with me when you hate me."

"I don't hate you!" he cried, tossing his head back in frustration, "I'm such an idiot."

You watched as he reached up to knock himself on the head with his fist. Reaching up, you grabbed his wrist to stop him, causing him to look at you before sobbing.

"Th-The first person who takes me in and I-I go and ruin it," he whispered, breathing stuttering, "I knew I didn't deserve this."

"Jimin..." you tugged on his wrist so he would sit down on the bed with you, "I don't want you to go either. I-If you'll stay then I want you here."

He paused, meeting your gaze before wrapping you up in a sudden hug, "I want to stay here with you for as long as you'll have me. I'm happy here and I love you."

"I..." you smiled, burying your face in his neck as you smiled, "I love you too, Jimin."

The two of you exhausted yourselves from crying and you both decided to lay down. You reached over and turned off the lamp, snuggling beneath your soft fleece blanket with Jimin pressed against your side. You were pleasantly surprised by how warm he was.

"_____," he said, voice vibrating in his chest where you head lay, "I'm so sorry..."

"Hm? For what?" you mumbled sleepily, vision blurring as you watched the TV. His heart was faster than a humans and calming to listen to.

"I...I hit you and I shouldn't have done that," he said, his hand finding its way around your waist, "And I had no right to call you a bitch. I was angry but there's no excuse so I'm sorry."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's okay, Jimin. I forgive you."

Things seemed to calm down quickly and you fell back into an easy rhythm. You were happy to find Jimin eating out of the SpiderSnack that you had bought him.

"I really appreciate this, you know, ______," he said with a mouth full, "I'm sorry I didn't eat it earlier I just..." he sighed, "I felt bad for how I treated you and it felt wrong for me to take these."

"It's okay," you reassured, patting his back as you sat down with a bowl of cereal, "As long as you can eat it now."

You and Jimin dissolved into a conversation about the dream he'd had the previous night, wondering if he could look up the meaning of it. Just as you pulled out your phone to open google, your doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," you said, missing the anxious look on Jimin's face as you made your way to the door.

Pulling it open, you were pleased to see the glasses-clad face of Namjoon. He smiled sheepishly, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Hey! Come on in!" you grinned, opening the door wider, "Hey Jimin! Namjoon is here!"

There was a momentary pause before you heard the loud scrape of Jimin's chair being pushed back. His hurried footsteps grew louder until he came into view with a huge grin on his face.

"Hey Jimin!" Namjoon greeted, opening his arms as Jimin threw himself towards him for a hug, "How are you doing?"

"I'm great," Jimin breathed as he stepped back, "How are you?"

"Really good," Namjoon replied, nodding his head, "It's really good to see you. I really hope you don't mind me stopping by. I had you address from the adoption form."

"No, it's perfectly fine," you smiled, closing the door before motioning the man to come inside, "We were just eating breakfast. Would you like anything?"

"No, I'm fine thank you," Namjoon said, taking a seat on the couch.

"_____ found SpiderSnack for me," Jimin blurted out excitedly, making Namjoon smile.

"Really? That's great, now you can gorge yourself on it," he teased, making the hybrid laugh.

The atmosphere became one even brighter with the appearance of Namjoon. You could tell how happy he made Jimin and you felt thankful that Jimin at least him him outside of you.

As you stood in the kitchen, eating your cereal to give them some time alone, an idea came to mind and you smiled.

When it was time for Namjoon to leave, you asked to speak privately with him. As you stepped out and shut the door, you met his gaze.

"Do you think it'd be a good idea to introduce him to others...you know — get him some friends," you asked, flushing when he smiled.

"I think it'd be a good idea," he nodded, "Either your own trusted friends or some hybrid friends. There's lots of groups that actively get together in the community for hybrids to get to know one another."

"Really? Other hybrids don't...think badly of him?" you asked, frowning.

"Not typically," Namjoon replied, "They're typically quite uncaring of other hybrids' species...all they really care about is that they're hybrids as well."

"Alright," you smiled, "I have some friends with hybrids of their own. I'll meet with them and see if I can set something up."

"It's a good idea to slowly introduce them," Namjoon advised, "Too many new faces and scents could freak him out and make him insecure. Just expand his circle slowly and at his own pace, okay?"

"Alright, thank you, Namjoon," you smiled, bidding him goodbye.

When you stepped back inside, you were filled with a new found determination to brighten Jimin's life even more.

Your friend Taehyung and his dog-hybrid Jungkook were the first ones you contacted. They lived nearby and you had worked with Taehyung at a local cafe for about 2 years where a friendship had budded. His adoption of Jungkook was what opened your eyes to the possibility of getting your own hybrid.

"Jimin," you called from the front door, pulling your shoes on as you heard his door open. He came into view with bedhead and tired eyes, "I'm going to see some friends so I'll be gone for a little while, alright?"

"Alright," he yawned, "Be safe."

"I will," you waved him goodbye and left.

"_____!" the overexcited voice of Jungkook had a smile spreading across your face as you walked into the ice cream shop that you'd decided to meet at.

"Hey guys!" you greeted, walking up to the table but pausing when you found them, only to pause at the two new faces.

"I hope you don't mind..." Taehyung chuckled nervously, "I brought a couple friends...Hoseok and his hybrid Yoongi."

"You mentioned you have a new hybrid you're looking to integrate?" Hoseok asked, an almost blinding smile on his face.

"Um yeah, that's right...it's nice to meet you both," you smiled, taking a seat.

"What kind of hybrid is he?" Yoongi asked.

"He's actually a spider-hybrid," you said, watching all four faces turn to that of surprise, "I know it's unusual...but he's really sweet."

"Hey I didn't say anything," Taehyung chuckled, "I've just never heard of a spider-hybrid."

"They're like...crazy rare," Jungkook gasped, leaning forward, "I think they're basically an endangered species of hybrid now. There are so few of them, to be honest, I thought they were extinct."

"How'd you find him?" Hoseok asked in interest, leaning forward.

"I found him at a shelter," you explained, "He'd been there for like 10 years because no one wanted him. People are...surprisingly cruel to him."

"Poor thing..." Yoongi sighed, shaking his head, "I think it's great for you to introduce him to some friends."

"Humans can be so cruel..." Hoseok sighed, shaking his head.

"I guess we could hang out at your place in the future?" Taehyung asked, looking towards you.

"I don't think that's a good idea..." Jungkook mumbled, "He probably won't like having strangers in his space right off the bat."

"How about a park?" Yoongi asked, "If he spent pretty much all his life in that shelter then...I'm sure he'll enjoy being outside for a while."

"You know...I haven't taken him out yet..." you admitted, "Do you think I should?"

"I don't see why not," Yoongi replied, "Expand his world, he may enjoy the bonding with you."

You smiled, thanking them for the advice before you all finally ordered your ice cream.

When you returned home, Jimin was sitting in the living room with a plate of pizza rolls while he watched TV.

"I'm home," you said, closing the door behind you as you kicked your shoes off and hung your jacket up.

"Hey! Welcome home!" Jimin greeted, looking over his shoulder as he stuffed a pizza roll into his mouth, "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!" you grinned, making your way over to the couch to have a seat.

As you did however, you felt Jimin stiffen beside you. You reached forward and stole a pizza roll, popping it in your mouth with a sigh.

"You..." he turned to look at you, a dark look on his face that sent a chill down your spine, "You smell different."

"Eh?" you raised a brow, looking down at yourself, "I...have a new body wash..."

"No you..." he leaned forward, his nose meeting your neck before he took a slow inhale, "You smell like other hybrids."

"Oh," you smiled, shaking off the flutter in your chest from his proximity, "I met with my friend Taehyung and his hybrid Jungkook and they brought their friends Hoseok and hybrid Yoongi."

"I don't like that..." he growled, running his tongue over his fangs, "I don't like their scents on you, _____..."

"I..." the deep tone of his voice has your heart skipping a beat and you flushed hot in response, "D-Do you want me to shower then?"

He didn't say anything, simply nodding his head. You could feel his gaze burning holes into you until you disappeared down the hallway. When you reached the bathroom, you placed your hand over your heart to steady it as it continued to race.

There was something about sweet, soft Jimin acting so dark and commanding that just had goosebumps rising all over your skin. You quickly decided to jump in the shower before your thoughts could go any further.

Once out of the shower, you towel dried your hair as you made your way to the living room once again. Jimin was still sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees as he gazed at the TV. He didn't seem to notice you and as you looked at him, you couldn't help but admire his features.

A sharp jawline and pretty, plump lips that he mindlessly ran his tongue over up to the soft slope of his nose and pretty eyelashes that fluttered against his cheeks.

You stepped up to the couch, finally getting his attention and he turned to look at you. His eyes traveled up and down your body, as if inspecting you, the golden glow of his eyes making those double pupils even more prominent.

He stood up, gazing down at you intently, making you shudder. Reaching up, he cupped your jaw and roughly turned your face away to expose the column of your neck. He leaned forward, nosing at the skin. Your breath hitched as you felt his lips ghost of your pulse, pausing to inhale deeply there.

"Much better..." he breathed, suddenly pulling back and dropping to the couch with a smile, "Come on, I was just about to watch A Star is Born."

As he patted the seat, you couldn't ignore the flame he'd lit within you. His sudden behavioral change left your head spinning but you took your seat beside him anyway.

"Hey Jimin?" you asked, a few days after that incedent. Jimin hadn't brought it up and you pretended it never happened. The two of you easily fell back into a rhythm.

"What's up?" Jimin asked from his bedroom.

"Do you want to go shopping?" You asked, smiling when you heard his muffled footsteps before his bedroom door opened.

"Really?" he grinned, bits of web stuck to his hair.

"Yeah, come on," you reached up to pull the whisps from his hair before he stepped out.

It was endearing how excited Jimin was as you made the short walk to the nearby shopping district. He had his hands shoved in his coat pockets as he talked animatedly about anything that came to mind.

The place was bustling, you and Jimin having to weave in and out of the many people you passed. Jimin looked around in wonder at all the shops.

"Do you want to stop inside?" you asked as he paused in front of a men's clothing shop, "You haven't gotten any new clothes since you came here..."

"Really? Can I?" he asked, eyes sparkling when you nodded.

You followed behind him into the store, the scent of cologne in the air making you wrinkle your nose. Jimin disappeared into the racks of clothing as he located the hybrid section. You decided to follow his lead, taking a look around to see if anything stood out that you could make gift him.

You reached the back of the store, finding a wall of shoes. You heard muffled voices from up front and you turned around to see the top of Jimin's purple head. Frowning, you realized there was someone in front of him.

As you approached, you could make out the words, "What are you?"

"Um...wh-what do you mean?" Jimin asked timidly.

"Your eyes...they're fucking weird..." the stranger mumbled.

"I'm a uh...spider..." Jimin replied, though you could hear his voice tremble.

"Ew, seriously?" the man, you realized, asked in disgust, "Can you make webs and shit?"

"Hey!" you snapped, making both men look at you. Jimin relaxed in relief and the stranger raised a brow, "Leave him alone."

"This bug yours?" he asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Don't call him that!" you spat, breezing past him to grab Jimin's hand, "Come on Jimin."

"Careful and make sure he doesn't end up splattered on a windshield!" the man laughed.

You felt Jimin's hand tighten around yours as you both left the store.

"Jimin..."

"I want to go home," he mumbled, releasing your hand before slowly making his way in the direction of the apartment.

"Okay..." you whispered, trailing behind him.

His form looked so sad, head hung and shoulders hunched. You cursed that man for ruining what could have been a perfectly lovely and fun day for the hybrid.

Once you entered the apartment, he made a beeline for his bedroom but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Don't, Jimin," you sighed.

"Don't what?" he asked, sounded so dejected that it broke your heart.

"Don't shut yourself away," you begged, feeling the prick of tears when he pulled away from you and made his way down the hall once again.

Instead of going into his room, however, he turned and went into your room. A small smile played at your lips in relief before you followed his lead.

He was sitting on your bed, hands folded in his lap when you entered.

"It's just a stupid name...I don't know why it bothers me so much..." he mumbled as you stood in front of him.

"It's okay..." you mumbled, running your fingers through his hand, making him shiver, "Your feelings are always valid, Jimin. If the name makes you hurt then...we just have to find a way for it not to."

"How do we do that?" he asked, looking up at your with teary eyes.

His lashes fluttered as you brushed a stray tear away, "How about we turn 'bug' into something positive?"

"Positive?" a small smile was finally playing at his lips as he looked at you, his glassy eyes shining once more, "What, you going to start calling me a love bug?"

"Jimin the love bug," you cooed, watching how face turn red until he had to break his gaze. You giggled, "Does that make you happy? Being called a lovebug?"

The way he wrapped his arms around your middle, hugging you as he laughed. You couldn't resist wrapping him up in a hug in return.

It had been such a long week and you felt drained. Jimin was bustling about as usual, happy as could be. You were bored, thinking of something to do when your phone went off.

You were elated to discover some of your girlfriends were going out to party.

"Hey Jimin!" you called as you began digging through your closet for something to wear, "I'm going to go out!"

"Huh? Where?" he asked, startling you as he appeared in the doorway of your closet.

"Out drinking with some girlfriends," you said, finally picking out a dress.

"Drinking? Will you be safe?" he asked, following close behind you as you picked a pair of shoes and placed the slowly forming outfit on the bed.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you reassured, feeling giddy at the idea of going out to have some fun.

Jimin lingered, watching you almost anxiously until you shooed him out so you could get dressed. Keeping your makeup light, you opened the door to find Jimin leaning against his bedroom door.

"Alright, I'll be back late okay?" you said, making your way down the hall as you slid your phone into your purse, "Don't wait up."

"_____..." Jimin whined as you opened the door, making you pause. You could see he wanted to say something but he only sighed and gave you a fake smile before saying, "Have fun."

You did feel bad leaving him alone when it was clear he didn't want you to, but you needed to go out and have fun. You adored Jimin but you needed some time away from him, just some simple girl-time with your friends and drinks.

You got buzzed pretty quickly — not wasted but you were feeling pleasantly buzzed. Naturally, such a state interfered with your inhibitions and logical decision making.

Which is why you ended up bringing a man you'd met at the bar home.

It didn't occur to you, as you kissed the man and let him pin you down to your bed, to think of Jimin. He pushed the hem of your dress up and roughly yanked you close to him, making you squeak in shock.

Pinning your wrists down, he began trailing his lips across your exposed collar bones. Before his hand could reach your panties, there was a low growl that ripped through the room.

"Oh shit!" the man gasped, jumping back in shock at the appearance of Jimin standing in the doorway, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Jimin," you mumbled, sitting up to push the hem of your dress down properly.

"Get out," Jimin snarled, approaching the man aggressively.

"Wh-What the fuck are you?" the man sputtered, scrambling out of your bed as he met Jimin's eyes — his double pupils easily following his every move.

"I...y-you should probably go..." you mumbled from the bed, biting your lip as you watched Jimin bare his fangs in warning to the stranger.

"Y-You're kidding right?" the man scoffed, shaking his head, "Fucking freaks."

With his departure, you were left with a very tense Jimin. His chest was heaving with anger as he stared at you, taking a few easy strides to you.

"Did you enjoy that?" he growled, crawling onto the bed. The way he crawled over you was predatory and you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together in response.

"Wh-What?" you breathed, keening at the feeling of his lips meeting your neck.

"Making me angry," he whispered, "Letting him taint you with his disgusting scent when you know...my scent is the only one you should have on your skin."

"I-I'm sorry Jimin..." you whimpered, your panties growing damper by the second, "I'm drunk I wasn't...thinking straight."

"Right..." he scoffed, the dominance he oozed nearly had you moaning, "I want you to go take a shower, wash his stink off of you and when you come back...I'll make you smell like you should."

He leaned back to let you slide off the bed. The way he scanned over your body, tongue sliding over his bottom lip made you clench pathetically in your panties. As quickly as you could, you made it to the bathroom and haphazardly stripped.

When you stepped back into your bedroom, Jimin was still sitting on your bed. The shower had significantly sobered you up and as you stood in front of him, you felt shy with his dark gaze on you.

"What's the matter?" he asked, a smirk growing on his face as you shifted on your feet, "You look nervous..." he stood up, the way he walked was confident and he had his head held high, "Do I make you nervous, _____?"

"I..." you licked your lips as you looked up at him, "I just really want to touch you."

"Oh?" he chuckled, cupping your chin, "Don't you mean you want me to touch you? Hm?" he leaned closer to you, his nose brushing against yours with his close proximity, "Isn't that why you brought him here? I saw the way you let him treat you, pin you down...is that what you like? You want to be treated roughly?"

Your eyes fluttered as you whimpered in arousal, the very idea of being pinned beneath Jimin's powerful form so tempting. Licking your lips, you met his gaze. You were able to see his eyes so much better and they were so beautiful and unique you could get lost in them.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, breath fanning over your lips. It took a second for you to remember where you were before you quickly nodded.

Then a fraction of a second later, his lips were on yours. The kiss started out soft, like Jimin was taking his time to enjoy his first kiss with you. Quickly, however, it turned hotter until he was licking feverishly into your mouth.

As your mind was occupied with his mouth, he reached up to pull at the hem of your towel. It easily came undone and fell to the floor — leaving you completely naked. You gasped at the cool air against your damp skin. He grinned against your lips and stepped away, leaving you feeling vulnerable.

Those enchanting eyes traveled over every centimeter of exposed skin. The urge to cover yourself was tempting and your fingers twitched by your sides.

“You are…” he breathed, tongue sliding over his bottom lip, “Stunning.”

“Jimin…” you breathed his name and you saw his jaw clenched at the desperation in your voice.

He could hear your heart pounding, could see the way your pupils displayed, and could smell your building arousal. His own cock was hard in his pants, dripping precum and no doubt making a mess.

“On the bed,” he ordered, watching as you scrambled to crawl on.

You turned and sat down, facing him. He grinned, showing those sharp fangs, at the sight of you sitting so prettily — waiting for him. You were under his control, giving your body up for him — trusting him to take care of you. The thought made his cock throb and he released a slow groan.

You bit your lip as he began to approach you, taking his time while keeping his eyes locked on you. When he was within arms reach of you, he inhaled deeply and grinned.

“I can smell how wet you are for me…” he whispered, making your cheeks flush hot.

“Y-You can?” he nodded, reaching up to gently wrap his hand around your throat. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, nosing your neck before inhaling deeply.

“Of course,” he breathed, “My senses are much more acute than yours are…and might I say, you smell delectable.”

“Y-You sound like you're going to eat me,” you whispered, making him pause.

He leaned back and met your gaze, his beautiful eyes trembling slightly as he rested his forehead against yours. Then, his eyes slowly scrunched up and he let out a little giggle that had your heart skipping a beat.

How could he go from taking your breath away with starling dominance to making your heart skip a beat with how utterly endearing he was? But as soon as that cuteness appeared, it vanished again.

“Of course I wouldn't eat you,” he whispered, slowly sinking to his knees, “But I wouldn't say no to a taste.”

You gasped as you were suddenly pushed flat onto your back. Rough hands roughly gripped the back of your knees, yanking you forward with surprising strength before pinning them open.

Your cunt was completely exposed to him and he groaned at the sight. There wasn't even a second for you to feel embarrassed before his tongue was diving between your folds.

The first thing you noticed was how hot his tongue was. The second thing you noticed was the foreign texture — similar to a cat's tongue only much softer. You could feel the barbs slide over your clit, making your hips jump.

Jimin moaned, sliding his tongue against your entrance to collect more of your sweet arousal. His lashes fluttered, enjoying the way you tightened around the intrusion.

Your fingers found purchase in his hair, not pulling but holding on. He grinned against your pussy, using two fingers to spread you open. Pulling back, he watched your hole spasm and your clit twitch in arousal.

“So small…” he whispered, bringing two fingers to your entrance, “How will you take my cock?”

“Fuck…” you gasped as he worked the two digits in. Your eyes rolled back at the light stretch, biting your lip as soon as he started scissoring them.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“S-So good...another finger, please,” you whined, a beg he quickly abided.

Jimin let out a soft moan of his own as he worked to fit the third digit in. Your walls were squeezing him tightly, trying to suck him in deeper.

“Y-Your tongue, please make me cum, Jimin,” you begged, lightly tugging on his hair.

He groaned at the feeling, the slight pain making his cock pulse. He had never been harder in his life.

Leaning forward, he swirled his tongue around your clit. Your reaction was instantaneous, your back arching as your walls squeezed tight.

He felt your body trembling, tensing and your breathing picking up. Working harder, he worked his fingers inside of you. Suddenly, he hit a spot that had you exploding.

You cried his name, arching so beautifully as you gushed around his fingers. He groaned at the feeling of his fingers becoming soaked in your cum. Diligently, he worked your spasming clit until you were pushing him away from the sensitive bud.

Pulling back, he pulled his fingers from your cunt. Your thighs immediately snapped shut as you trembled, coming down from the high.

He brought his fingers to his lips, enveloping them one by one to lick your cum off of them. He could feel his underwear sticking to his length from the amount of precum he was leaking. His cock ached, desperate to be buried inside of you.

He stood suddenly, gaining your attention once more. You had more or less settled down while he was in his own world. Sitting up, you watched as he stripped.

His shirt was first, dropped to a pile on the floor. Then he pushed his sweatpants down, revealing his boxers. You licked your lips at the sight.

He was big and it made your throb with want.

Finally, he pulled the last article down and he was as bare as you.

His cock was very similar to a humans in shape. It was thicker than any you'd ever taken and it was drooling precum in strings to the floor. Your mouth watered at the sight and you shuffled forward.

Jimin watched you curiously as you grabbed his hip, urging him to the edge of the bed. You looked up at him and wrapped your hand around the base — your fingers not able to touch around him.

He shivered visibly, goosebumps rising all over his skin as he reached out to grab your wrist.

“F-Fuck…” he whimpered.

“Are you sensitive Jimin?” you teased. The glare he shot you sent shivers down your spine.

Leaning forward, you took the thick head of him into your mouth. His head fell backward and he moaned — a long, drawn out moan you'd only ever dreamed of hearing a man make.

You sucked the head of him, mouth already stretched without going any further. His cock was so fat and drooling precum on your tongue with every pulse you could feel of the thick vein on the underside.

Swirling your tongue around him, his breathing hitched you could see his body tense before a bitter taste coated your tastebuds.

Your cunt was soaking by then. He had cum just from you sucking the head of his cock.

When you pulled off, his cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted with his heavy breathing. You swallowed his cum down, the consistency a little more watery than a human’s cum.

Things were still for a moment before you noticed he was still just as hard as before — and leaking more precum. He moved forward, wrapping a hand around your throat to maneuver you into moving you backwards.

You were laying with your head in the pillows, Jimin sitting on his knees. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked himself with a sigh.

“Pull your knees up to your chest, show me your little cunt,” he whispered.

You did as your were told, hooking your hands beneath your knees to pull them to your chest. You were completely exposed, your dripping pussy utterly vulnerable to him.

He shuffled forward, positioning his cock at your entrance before pausing.

“Will you even be able to take me?” he asked, the fat head of him sliding over you sensitive clit.

“Y-Yes please, please give it to me,” you begged, watching the way his length parted your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asked, finally looking up at you, “I don't want to hurt you.”

Your heart fluttered as you smiled, “It's okay, Jimin, it'll feel good.”

He seemed to relax slightly before the tip finding its way to your entrance once again.

Neither of your breathed as he began to sink into you. The stretch burned, your pussy not used to taking something so big. Reaching down, you circled your clit as he stuffed you full.

He watched as more and more of his cock disappeared inside of you. Quickly, he bottomed out — bumping against your cervix. You gasped at the feeling and he pulled back slightly.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, cocking his head to the side curiously.

“A-A little…just don't go all the way, okay?” you asked, making him smile and nod.

Of course he wouldn't do anything to hurt you.

Replacing your hands on the back of your thighs, he pulled out — your juices clung to his cock and made his mouth water. Pushing back in, he was mindful to not go all the way just like you asked him.

Your moans rose in volume and he could feel your body tremble beneath him. His eyes were on the way your cunt was stuffed so fucking full with him. He didn't know how you were even taking him but it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

You were so wet that every movement was mingled with the slick sounds of your arousal. Reaching down, he brushed his thumb over your clit, making your mewl in pleasure. He could feel the way you clenched even harder around him as he circled the bud.

“Jimin...y-you'll make me cum…” you warned, voice wobbly as your body was jostled with the movement of his thrusts.

He looked up at your face finally, your mouth was open and your eyes were glassy with pleasure. You were beautiful and it made his heart flutter.

“Want you to cum,” he whispered, working his thumb in circles as he continued to fuck you. His cock was so big he didn't even have to try to touch your spot — he couldn't avoid it.

He worked you for less than a minute before you were cumming. Your walls spasmed around him and he felt the hot gush of your cum sprinkle across his skin and over his cock. He cursed, his own cock throbbing in pure arousal at the sight of your squirting for him.

Your cries were of pure ecstasy and it sent him to his own high.

You felt him still, his mouth falling open before a low whine escape his lips. His cock pulsed a few times before he was filling you with cum.

You were surprised by how much there was — much more than he'd released in your mouth. It filled your cunt up and kept coming. His cock plugging your entrance made it impossible for it to leak out.

It was hot and you could feel his cock throb with every spurt of cum he released. You felt so full and for some reason it turned you on to be so full of his cum.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he began to pull out. As expected, his cum gushed out once able to. It leaked to the bed and you mentally cringed as you realized what a mess it'll be to clean.

Jimin seemed transfixed on the way your ruined cunt drooled his cum. He had marked you as his — it was his scent on you now.

“_______…” he whispered, crawling up to cover your body with his.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, meeting your eyes. You were still obviously recovering but you still reached up to cup his cheek.

“I think...I think I really love you,” he whispered, watching as your eyes widened, “You're the only person who has ever...cared for me. I want to stay with you forever.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, “I love you too, lovebug.”

He beamed at the nickname, pulling back to press his lips against yours. It was soft again, he was pouring every ounce of his love into it.

His touch was soft as he treated you like you were the most precious thing in his life.

And to him, you were. You were his everything.

8K notes · View notes

bffsoobin · 4 years

Text

Apartment 370

↳everything about your apartment was perfect. Aside from your neighbor. Choi Soobin has become the bane of your existence. You can’t go a single day without looking over your shoulder for your misleadingly handsome neighbor. Just how many petty pranks does he think he can get away with?

➤ enemies to lovers!au, neighbors!au, arguments, petty behavior, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,062

Requested?: yes

Warnings: none really other than swearing and Soobin kind of being an ass. I also didn’t proof read or edit this, as per usual.

A/N: To be honest I’m feeling a little unsure about this? I loved the concept and I’m very glad that a lovely follower requested it but I feel like lately all of my writing has started out really well and then just got progressively worse? Like all of the endings I write are just kind of lame? Just a weird insecurity I’ve been encountering lately. So please leave me some feedback on what you think about this!

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You loved your apartment. It was small, but just right for you to live in. The shower had hot water, your bedroom had a beautiful window for your plants to sit on and the wifi connection was always working well. You even only had to travel up two flights of stairs if your elevator stopped working. There were a lot of pros to living at your complex. But there was one, massive, glaring and obnoxiously loud con. Choi Soobin. When he had moved in next to you, you tried to be nice. You knocked on his door and introduced yourself; making some kind of lame joke about borrowing sugar.

He didn’t laugh. He just introduced himself back and apologized for not having any sugar. Apologized? Had he really missed the joke that bad? Your delivery had been impeccable. Despite his charming face and annoyingly adorable style, you decided there was no way you could be friends with someone who didn’t understand a classic joke.

Soobin must have decided there was a reason he didn’t like you either, because just about a week into being neighbors he began to wreak havoc. He played music as loud as it possibly could be at the weirdest times of the day and yelled at his television way too much no matter what he was watching. It seemed like every day you had to storm over and knock on his door to complain. This went on for weeks until he finally agreed to stop when you threatened to involve your burly landlord in the matter.

For a few days, you enjoyed peace and quiet. You came and went from work without seeing him, took naps in silence and remembered how it felt to cook in your own kitchen without the sound of a twenty something year old man screaming at reruns of Survivor as background music.

As they say, ignorance is bliss, because little did you know Soobin’s silence was about to erupt into a new, massive volcano of stupidity. One night you woke up around 4 am to the sound of scratching coming from the wall that connected your and Soobin’s bedrooms. You were already annoyed at the fact that you had to be up at 7am to pick up an early shift for your slacking coworker, so you didn’t have it in you to just roll over and go back to bed. You couldn’t have if you wanted to anyway because the scratching noises were only getting more and more persistent. You flung yourself out of bed with a groan. Pets were allowed here, and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Soobin had gotten a cat who decided to be a little extra scratchy.

You poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen, hoping to clear your mind and sort your thoughts. In the silence of the night, you could hear Soobin’s panicked voice through the thin walls. It sounded like he was on the phone with someone, as you could hear pauses as if he were listening to someone else. What a weird fucking dude, you thought. With eyes still drooping you walked back to your bedroom. The cat would have to be done scratching at the wall by now, right?

Wrong. The same consistent noise that would surely haunt your dreams still persisted. Knowing Soobin was awake gave you enough grounds to throw on a sweatshirt over your sleep clothes and go knock on his door.

When it swung open, you could see just how distraught he was. His usually fluffy hair was flat and knotted and his eyes were sporting huge dark circles that only made the panic in them amplified. Wait, panic?

“Y/N, I’m really sorry but you need to leave,” he had the door open just far enough to stick his head and shoulders out, as if he were trying to hide something.

“No, Soobin. I heard your cat scratching at the wall and it’s annoying the hell out of me. I can’t sleep. Can’t you lock it in the bathroom or something?” His face scrunched in confusion.

“A cat? I don’t have a cat.” Your insides boiled with hatred at the idea of him trying to lie his way out of this.

“Listen up Choi. Unless you have a dragon in your bedroom scratching the shit out of the walls, I don’t want to deal with your lies. Just take care of it! I need my beauty sleep and you and your noisy cat aren’t helping at all.” Soobin’s face paled and for a second you thought that you had finally won. And then Soobin said:

“It’s not a cat. It’s a racoon.”

You almost fell onto your ass right in the hallway. Soobin’s eyes sparked with a type of mirth you never thought such an admittedly gorgeous face could possess.

“I’m calling the landlord.” You snapped the door shut in his face and turned away.

That had apparently been the final straw for Soobin. The next day when you got back from work, you found a handwritten “RACOON HATER” sign taped to your door. What you found inside was somehow even more unsettling. Your whole living room and kitchen had been essentially trashed. Throw pillows and blankets were thrown haphazardly on the floor, many of your photos and art you had on the walls were switched around or taken down altogether. And the worst of it all; everything was covered in a fine dust of glitter. It was a struggle to find a single surface that wasn’t covered in glitter, really.

A new type of dislike for Choi Soobin brewed in your stomach. Hatred. Your kitchen counter- also covered in a dust of chunky silver glitter- became the victim of your frustrations as you slammed your hands down. It would cost you so much time and money to get all the glitter out of your living spaces, let alone the fact that you'd inevitably be leaving some behind for the next poor soul to rent this apartment. Gritting your teeth, you went to work with your poor little vacuum.

You had only managed to clean your coffee table and half of your couch before you heard a series of loud knocks on your door. You grumbled at the idea of having to take a pause in your work but you trudged over to the door anyway.

To be honest, you had no idea who you were expecting to see behind your apartment door-which you belatedly realized was still decorated with Soobin’s handmade sign- but you didn’t think it would be the man himself.

Soobin stood in the hallway, picture perfect as always. His face was tan and smooth and free from any possible blemishes. Had he plucked his eyebrows? They were groomed to neat perfection. His tall frame was dwarfed by a fuzzy blue sweatshirt that was easily a size too big. If you had met him by chance on the street, you would have fallen in love in an instant. But you knew better. You knew he was the one who reduced your once lovely apartment into the mess it was now.

“Oh, sorry,” he feigned innocence, “are you busy?” He didn’t even try to hide the smirk that blossomed on his face. A grumble of a curse fell from your lips before you responded.

“Yeah. Some asshole decided to break into my apartment and spread glitter on everything. So yes, I’m sort of busy,” you laced your voice with enough venom to kill a horse, and it seemed as if Soobin had gotten the message as he shrunk back into the hallway a bit. His mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he struggled to find the perfect retort.

“I-” he cut himself off as his soft eyes became hyper focused on a spot on your face. Suddenly you were a new combination of concerned and offended. His hand hesitantly rose toward your face before the softness of his fingertips made contact with your cheek and brushed something away. You held your breath the entire time, unsure if you should be upset or worried or utterly lost in the way his skin felt against yours. The contact was brief but still made your skin burn bright red. When his hand left your cheek, you saw that he had brushed away a piece of glitter that was now resting delicately on his fingertip.

“Sorry,” he hurried out, “I just wanted to get the glitter off of your face.” His whole demeanor had changed, and you were sure that whatever plan he had in mind when he knocked on your door had vanished.

“Okay, weirdo,” you tried to ignore the way you were yearning to feel his touch again, “I’m still busy so can you like, go away?” Upon hearing your words he turned away to head for his apartment door with ears as red as you’d ever seen them.

Although the glitter incident was now months behind you, you still often found pieces in random spots around your home. And Soobin was still a pain in your ass. He had been quiet for close to two weeks after your odd encounter and you were almost convinced that he had changed his ways. You were quickly proven wrong when he conned the man who works the front desk into hiding your mail for a week straight; making you subsequently late to paying some of your bills.

More recently, a new person had moved into the apartment across the way. The first day you met him, you were busying yourself with taping up Soobin’s door with bright pink duct tape from the outside. Your new neighbor-who you learned to be named Yeonjun- had squatted down right next to you and offered to help tear pieces of the tape.

You and Yeonjun had become fast friends. He was incredibly charming and willing to lend an ear every time you needed to complain about Soobin. For a while, you were almost able to forget the fact that the devil incarnate lived next door to you. While your work schedules tended to be a little crazy, the two of you managed to talk for at least a few minutes every day. He helped you gain some sanity back within your apartment hallway.

Despite also being friends with Soobin, Yeonjun never took sides in your little feud; but you were always secretly worried that somehow Soobin would put a bug in his ear. One day, about two months after Yeonjun had moved in, he knocked on your door while you were in the middle of making dinner. You invited him in but he hesitated.

“I just came to talk to you,” he bit into his bottom lip, “I really like you. But I don’t see us ever being more than friends. I hope you understand.” You scrunched your eyebrows. Where was this coming from?

“Uh okay? I know that. I don’t like you...like that, Yeonjun. Did you hit your head or something?” You were seriously confused. Yeonjun’s eyes widened comically.

“Well Soobin said that-“ as soon as the words fell out of his mouth Yeonjun put together the invisible puzzle pieces. His face morphed into extreme regret. “I’m so sorry. I should have known it was part of your weird prank war. You should have seen how convincing his acting is though, he really had me thinking you had a crush on me.” You scoffed at the idea of Soobin beginning to spread rumors to one of your closest friends just for the hell of it. If Yeonjun hadn’t been mature enough to address it right away, you could have gone through weeks of confusion about why he was avoiding you.

You looked back at your kitchen, catching sight of the steaming bowl of ramen you’d just finished making. Sighing, you shut your door behind you to stand in the hall with Yeonjun. He looked sheepish in your presence as you laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not mad at you, Yeonjun. I’m going to talk to the bane of my existence,” you gestured toward the door with the shiny ‘370’ plaque. “Just don’t bother calling the landlord if you hear yelling.” As soon as you heard the sound of Yeonjun’s door snapping shut, you laid into Soobin’s door with a heavy knock. As soon as it was opened far enough, you wedged your body inside and subsequently sent Soobin stumbling backwards.

“How dare you?” You roared, throwing your hands in the air dramatically. “I’m fine with your petty pranks and all the other stupid shit you pull against me because that’s all between the two of us. At least it’s funny and gives me something to think about in my free time. But when you start to involve my friends? That’s way too far. There was no reason to rope Yeonjun into this. He’s your friend too, Choi.” Soobin seemed surprised that you had come in with so much to say right off the bat.

“Y/N it’s really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to see if you actually had the capacity to have a crush on someone. And you’ve been spending so much time with Yeonjun I figured he’d be the perfect person to test my theory with, plus the humiliation factor of him not liking you back would have kept me entertained for days” he sat down on his couch casually, “I guess he had to break it to you that you aren’t as flirty and irresistible as you think you are, huh?” The air crackled with tension as you gawked down at his sprawled form.

“What are you even saying? Yeonjun and I are just friends. And why does it matter to you if I have the capacity for a crush or not? You hate me. If you’re just waiting until I get a boyfriend so that you can come in and ruin it all with your shitty vendetta then you’re much worse of a person than I ever pegged you for!” Tears welled in your eyes but you wiped at them angrily. Out of all the fights and disagreements you’d ever had with Soobin, this was the first one that stirred an odd emotion in the pit of your stomach. You were tired of the back and forth. Soobin seemed oddly alarmed at the formation of your tears as he got up from the comfort of his couch and approached you like a wounded dog.

“Trust me, I have no grand plan to ruin your life at every turn even though that’s what you think. You spend so much time with Yeonjun, I thought maybe you liked him. I knew he didn’t like you because when I told him that I-” Soobin actually clapped his own giant hand over his mouth as the words hung in the air between you. Anger shot through your mind at the idea that he didn’t even have the guts to relay the entire story.

“You what? You’re so wrapped up in your own little world but you can’t even finish telling me what you said to someone else? I can’t believe you, honestly,” you turned and made your way toward his door, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a hot shower. Soobin’s hand clasped around your wrist as he gently yanked you away from the exit. His strong grip kept you standing right in front of him and although you struggled against him, there was no use.

“I told him that I like you.” For a second, you thought that you had misheard him, but he continued. “I told Yeonjun that I like you. And he told me that I should go for it, because he doesn’t see you as more than a friend. But I freaked out so I told him that you liked him. I knew you probably actually didn’t.”

Your brain was short circuiting at the confession. Choi Soobin, who had complicated your life beyond belief since the day he moved in months ago liked you?

“But,” your eyebrows drew together as you tried to comprehend it all, “you hate me, Soobin. We have a whole...rivalry! There’s no way you actually have feelings for me. I swear if this is just another prank I’ll shove my hand so far down your throat-“ Soobin threw his hands up in front of his body in a form of defense.

“No! I don’t hate you, Y/N. I’ve liked you since the day we met. I just thought the pranks and petty stuff was like...our way of hanging out? That’s why I kept doing them. I thought you were having fun with me.” It was ridiculous how much he sounded like a little boy explaining his side of the story to a teacher. It was even more ridiculous that the corner of your brain where you’d stuffed all your feelings for Soobin began to overflow.

“Haven’t you ever heard that there’s much better ways to tell someone you like them? We could have spent the last 11 months not at each other’s throats if you would have just manned up and found out I like you too.” You saw the exact moment that the words finally processed and his entire face lit up with the recognition.

A familiar, deeply dimpled smile grew across his face as his skin reddened. He clasped his hands in front of him and swayed back and forth on his feet. Before you could think to stop him, he leaned in close enough that you worried he could hear your heart thumping against your ribs.

“You like me too?”

“Yes, Soobin. I like you too. And I would like you even more if you stopped your stupid pranks,” you tapped his nose with your pointer finger twice. He nodded eagerly with his tongue sticking out from between his teeth slightly.

“Deal,” he stuck his hand out to you and you raised an eyebrow to silently ask if he was serious. His hand didn’t waver, so you grasped it firmly and pulled him toward your body until you could wrap him into a tight hug. It was an odd feeling, soaking in Soobin’s scent as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth in his apartment. Odd, but good. Perfect.

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fieryghxul · 4 years

Text

Margaritas, reunions and confessions. [a.h.]

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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warning(s): fem!reader – dom!hotch (well i tried) – last season’s spoilers – drinking – cursing – smut – unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho) – oral sex (fem receiving) – slight chocking – a bit fluff at the end.

A/N: hello everyone! this is super random but i came up with this in the middle of the night and i couldn't shake the idea out of my head. i am not a writer and english is not my first language so if there’s any mistake, i apologize in advance. also, this is my first hotch smut so i hope it’s good. enjoy!

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[March 14th, 2020. 8:30 pm.]

“I have to go but promise me that you’re going to stop thinking about work and that you’re going to have fun these days.” You heard the pleading voice of Penelope Garcia on the phone as you walked out of the bathroom.

“I promise. I love you and I’ll see you when I get back.” You smiled and you knew that she was smiling too.

“It’s a date, angel. Love you more.” And with that, the line went silent.

You put your cell phone aside and took a look at the open suitcases on the bed. You didn't have anything planned but you knew you have to go out to clear your head and relax, things at work have been very stressful lately so when Prentiss told the team about taking some vacation time, you didn't hesitate to get a ticket and get on the first plane you found.

And that's why you were currently in a hotel room in Santorini, Greece. Yes, it seems like a lot, but nothing you can't afford.

A few minutes later, you finished applying some mascara and lip gloss, and took a few steps back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The navy-blue self-tie slit dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly; you paired it with a pair of black heels and a black jacket, just in case it gets cold at night. After taking one last look and smiling slightly at the reflection, you turned to grab your bag and left the room, hoping to have a good night once you were out of the hotel.

▪ ▪ ▪

People flooded the streets and it was understandable, the night was really beautiful, there was a light breeze and the full moon was perfectly reflected in the sea. You have been walking for almost 2 hours, taking photos of almost everything and enjoying the night until you came across a bar, the word "cocktail" in the name of the place definitely caught your attention so you didn't think twice before walking into the place.

You walked to the bar and waited for the bartender to come up to you. While you were waiting, you could feel the back of your neck burning, someone was watching you but you didn’t want to deal with anyone yet, so you just ignored it, concentrating on reading the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order.

“Good evening, ma'am. Are you ready to order?” You look up from the menu, a brunette in her 20s is at the other side of the bar was smiling at you.

“Uh, yes, a margarita would be fine.” You ordered, mirroring her smile, and the girl gave you a little nod before walking away.

In the meantime you took your phone out of your bag and opened the ‘bau ladies’ group chat to send one or two of the photos you took a few hours ago with a “next time, i’m bringing all of your cute asses with me.” below them.

JJ was the first to reply, “oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”

Followed by Emily’s “look at that and some of us are still doing paperwork :( get drunk on my behalf please.”

You chuckled under your breath at her text and the margarita arrives just in time, “i’m on it, boss ;) isn't it a little late to be doing paperwork?"

Penelope replies next, “paperwork hahaha what a weird way to spell tara’s name“ and two “PENELOPE!” appear automatically in chat.

“you two are so obvious and spencer owns me 20 now.” You hit the send button before graving the margarita, taking a few sips of it. It takes about 3 minutes for your phone to vibrate again and you were about to answered but you are interrupted by the bartender.

“From the man at that table, ma'am.” She says placing another margarita in front of you and discreetly pointing at one of the tables that were on the patio of the place, you turned around but the only thing you see from the bar is his back. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t have anything weird on it.”

“Thank you...” The bartender walks away again and you stare at the drink, debating for a moment about whether or not to go and face the mysterious man. Fuck it. You decided before putting you phone back in your bag, forgetting about the messages and graving that and the drink before making your way to the table.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat once you reached said table, "can I seat here or are you waiting for someone?"

“Please.” He murmur in a low voice while gesturing toward the empty chair, indicating that you can sit down and a strange feeling of familiarity floods your body at that gesture. You shock your head trying to ignore that before placing your bag aside and sitting down in front of the man.

“I just wanted to thank you for the—“

The words got stuck on your throat and the world seemed to have stopped when you finally laid your eyes on the suited man that you thought you'd never see again.

Holy shit.

You stood still, a part of you fearing that if you moved he might disappear. Your face probably showing clear signs of confusion and shock as Aaron Hotchner sit right there in front of you.

He still looked serious and intimidating, his gaze reimaging cold to those who didn't know him and you remember all of those times you teased him about being a robot, there were times when you actually managed to make him laugh.

Yet at the same time there was something different about him. There was a different glow around him, he seems more relaxed and you could see it in his expressions, even in his posture.

“Hello, Y/N.” Hotchner said, voice still low but strong enough to bring you back to the present.

“Hey.” You said, still processing the fact that he was here with you and in the most unexpected place. “I, uh, it’s been a long time.”

“Almost 3 years.” He said before taking a sip of the glass that rested on his hand, you assumed that it was scotch.

3 years in 6 months, 13 days, 1 hour and 65 seconds. Give it or take.

“Almost, yeah… so what are you doing here?” You asked, “I mean, you were more a city type of guy.”

“I still am, Y/N, but Jack and Jessica insisted on me going on a little vacation because apparently it’s been a while since I had some ‘me-time’.”

Your face light up a bit at the mention of the kid, Hotch noticed it. “How’s Jack? I can barely remember when the last time I saw him was was but he must be so big now.”

“He’s 14 and almost as tall as me.” A smile appeared on Hotch's face, he didn't used to smile a lot and you thought it was a bit normal considering the work that you two shared, but those times that he did you used to felt butterflies in your stomach. Still do apparently. “What about you? What are you doing here? I mean, you were more a city type of girl.”

You chuckled softly when you heard him repeating your words and you shrugged slightly, “I'm having some vacation time, it's rare to have free time at the BAU, you know? So when you do, you take it without thinking twice.”

“How’s the team doing?”

“Good. We're working on some things, going through a few changes, the usual I guess.” This time it was you who drank, taking a long sip of the margarita that was still in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to hear me talk about it?”

“Of course, unless, do you have somewhere else to be, Y/N?”

“Not anymore. We might need a few more of this though.” You pointed to the drinks on the table and flashing him a smile, catching a glimpse of his before calling the bartender and ordering another round of drinks.

And then you started talking, Hotch listening carefully to every word that came out of your mouth. You started with the cult that kidnapped Spencer and Garcia and then launching into the saga of the Everett Lynch a.k.a "The Chameleon", you mentioned how Emily is now shortlisted to be the next FBI director and how she would name JJ as the next unit chief of BAU unit, but that remains to be seen; you also talked about Garcia leaving the team to work in Silicon Valley and Hotch noticed the sad tone in your voice when you mentioned that but in part he was happy that everyone was moving forward with their lives, making new decisions and following different paths. You continued with Spencer being a consultant and teaching at the same time and finished with Rossi getting married again then talking about retirement but not fully doing it.

“That’s because Rossi’s never going to retired.” You and Hotch said in unison, laughing after noticing that.

“A lot of things had happened then.” He said, not very surprise and titling his head to one side, you nodded mutely. “But you forgot of someone, Y/N.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you. What about you? How are you?” He asked, his tone of voice changing to a concerned one.

“Oh… I, uh, I’m good.” You began but more hesitant this time, “I will never get used to the changes but its part of life so I just have to suck it up and live with it. I don’t have an outer motive yet so I'm not leaving the BAU, that's for sure. I always knew that that's where I belong and I can’t even bring myself to think about other options.”

“You have always been an important asset to the team, Y/N. The BAU is still lucky to have you.” Hotch said, still sounded like the boss but you didn’t comment anything out loud about it. Instead, you smiled kindly at him and both went silent after that, staring at each other every now and then and finishing the rest of your drinks. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one of the many that you two used to share while working together in the office or in the long nights in the jet after finishing a case.

Your gaze swept over the bar, noticing the few people that was still there and the employees staring to clean up the place. You took at deep breath, pulling out your wallet.

“Well, Hotch, this was fun. Unexpected but fun.” You left some money under your empty cup, paying for your part of the drinks and Hotch did the same thing. “I should get going now, so—“

“Let me walk you over to your hotel.” He cut you off, grabbing his blazer from the chair and turning to look at you.

“Hotch you don’t ha—“

“Please, Y/N. I insist.” He said and his voice serious once again, just like when he used to get too bossy with the team but with a smile that contradicted that tone and you couldn’t say “no” to that.

“Alright, Sir. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your things and started walking out of the bar, Hotchner walking behind you.

▪ ▪ ▪

The walk back to the hotel was shorter than you thought; maybe it was because you were so focused on Hotchner and the small talk that you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You murmur while grabbing the room key from you bag, “But you didn’t have to come up here though.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

You could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare to do it and it doesn't feel good to pressure him, so you settled for just smiling at him.

And in that moment, standing in outside of you room and looking closely at him, you realized how much you missed him. You didn’t admitted that out loud after he left the BAU, you couldn’t do it because you also never fully admitted your feeling for him. Partially it was your fault, feelings were never your thing and you were afraid of what might happen if you confronted him about it so looking for excuses and reasons to not doing it always seemed easier.

For a while you truly did believed that it was just a stupid crush on your boss, something temporary, until the days turned into weeks and then months, years even, but then… he was gone.

You couldn’t really blame him for that though; he had a good reason for leaving so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Hotch finally mumbled.

You looked at him in confusion, “For what?”

“Leaving.”

“You did it to protect Jack; it was the right thing to do.” You reassure him with a smile, you unconsciously took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping your son safe, Hotch.”

“I know, choosing to be a full time dad to Jack is something I do not regret. It was something that we both needed it, especially after everything that happened with Haley.” You gulped at the mention of the name, remembering how devastated he was after her death. He took a deep breath, “But what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I didn't came back to you or the team, I should at least have called to let you know that we were fine but I got so caught up with the mundane life that it was a little too late by the time I realized about everything I left behind.”

To you.

Those two little words echoed in your head as you look at those chocolate eyes that used to drive you crazy without knowing it. You noticed that he was even closer now, slightly towering over you. It’s now or never, Y/N. You thought to yourself before speaking.

“I waited for you. I never told anyone but for a whole I waited for you to come back, hoping one day to see your demanding self in an expensive suit walking through the BAU doors again but deep down I knew that eventually I had to let you go.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding until now and smiled sadly, “That was easier said than done considering that I never stopped thing about it, about you. Because the true is that I loved you, Aaron. Maybe I still fucking do… but I doubt that this makes any difference now because maybe you never saw me in the same way that I saw you or just because it’s a little too late now.”

You finished and Hotch frowned, probably processing what you just admitted to him. He was silent for a few more seconds and you took it as your cue, letting go of his hand and turning around to open the door of you room. “I had an amazing night, thank you. See you around.”

But before you could even step foot in the room, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and your chest hitting his. The next thing you knew after that was that his lips were on yours.

Aaron Hotchner was fucking kissing you after admitting your feelings for him.

He pulled away before you could react properly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours; this time he looked at you in a way that you had only fantasized about until now, there was love and lust on them and you could feel it, just all those feelings that you tried so hard to keep locked in the deepest part of you.

And that's all you needed before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, in a matter of seconds you two were inside the room. His lips were warm and the kiss quickly turned into a desperate one once the door was locked behind you, you could already feel yourself melting in his arms.

You didn’t even realize how it happened, but in one quick moment you were being totally pinned against the door with Aaron holding you by your thighs as your legs were wrapped around his waist. The position was now lifting your short dress, leaving your thighs even more naked but you didn't mind considering that now you could perfectly feel Aaron's hand caressing your hot skin. You move your hands from his shoulders to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt and stripping him off it, dropping the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. As you were doing that, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess almost immediately. The sounds being like music to his ears.

“Aaron , please.“ You moaned, this was good but you need it more. You needed him.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He asks, slightly biting the skin of your neck and you bite your bottom lip.

“Please, Sir. Fuck me.” You let out, noticing a sparkle in his eyes that you've never seen before and that only turned you on even more.

“Since you ask so nicely…” He said before walking to the other side of the room where the was a big bed in the center of it, Aaron kissed you lips and put you down in front of him, his hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked and Aaron stares deeply at you, the sudden seriousness on his eyes making you gulp. You nodded.

“Words, Y/N. I need words.”

“I’m sure of this, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Fuck, he was hot.

“Yes, sir.”

He bent down, his hands working on your zipper as he whisper “Good girl.” in your ear and you bite your lip once more, muffling down a moan.

He finally pulled down your dress, tossing it onto the floor completely and leaving you with only your red lace underwear; you weren't wearing a bra tonight, so you were much more exposed to him than you thought. He took one really good look at you before throwing you onto the bed, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Guess that we’re done playing around.

He kneels down on the bed, moving your legs with his knees and positioning himself between them. His hands are caressing your legs again, making their way up to the sides of your body and he leans in, kissing you again, your hands flew up to grab his hair, eagerly responding the kiss. You didn’t care how needy you seem right now, you’ve been waiting year for this, fantasizing about it, and now you had it, not really knowing for how long and that only gave you more reasons to enjoy every second of it.

“You know?,” Aaron began, his lips leaving yours and making his way down your neck, placing kisses all over your skin, “if I had know about how much you wanted me, I’ve would done something about it earlier.”

“Yeah?” You asked, arching your back as he bites one of your nipples gently, his other hand working on the other one.

“I would've pinned you down on my desk and take you right there on the office, baby. Not caring about anyone who could hear us.” He casually said, like he thought about it before and you moaned. You definitely thought about that particular situation too.

When he finally reached the place where you needed the most, he stopped and you were about to complain but Aaron shut you up by grabbing your ankles and yanking you down the end of the bed. He kneels again, parting your legs a bit more, placing one of your legs over his broad shoulders and kissing you inner thighs, slowly making his way to your soaked panties.

“I barely touch you and you’re so wet for me already?” Hotchner asked teasingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on your clit but over the fabric before taking a hold of them and ripping them out. And with no more words, Hotch held both your legs open and buried his face between them, making you moan in a matter of seconds.

He swept his tongue over you pussy swiftly, tasting my arousal first and groaning again your skin. A shiver ran through you as he stared circling your clit with his tongue and then moving down between your folds before going up again, alternating his speed and pressure.

When you thought that it couldn’t get better, Aaron proved you wrong by teasing your entrance with one of his finger and looking up at you, locking his eyes with yours. He wanted to see your reaction. You try to maintain the eye contact as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you, curling them an hitting the right spot, a string of cursings leaving your mouth.

It didn’t take much for your legs to start shaking around his head, the knot forming on your lower stomach.

“I’m- fuck, I’m close.” You breathed betweens moans and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled away.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” He shortly kissed your mouth and you tasted yourself in his before he got up off bed, his hands immediately went to unbuckle his belt and now you took your time to watch him. From his messy hair, to the red marks on his shoulders caused by your heels -oops- and then stopped at the large bulge formed in his pants, you groaned at the sight of that.

Fuck, he is big. God, if you weren't so desperate to feel him inside you, you wouldn't hesitate to drop on your knees and start sucking him.

“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk on his face while taking off the rest of his clothes.

“Just fuck me already, please.” You begged and he positioned himself between your legs again, but he was hesitant. “Hotch?”

“I don’t have condom on me and I doubt that you have one, Y/N. I’m clean but if you—”

“I’m clean too and on the pill so don’t worry.” You smiled at him and gave a little nod.

And apparently he was as desperate as you because at all at once, Hotch took grip of your hips and pushed inside you. You immediately arched your back, moaning loudly in both pain and pleasure, your hands grabbing the sheets at your side. You were surprise that you didn’t ripped them apart yet.

“Fuck, Hotchner.” You screamed and he didn’t move for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. He really is big.

“You’re so thigh, baby.” He moaned in your ear, the raspy voice sending shocks straight to your core. He was capable of making you cum by just talking.

That’s how much power he had.

And then he finally started moving, pounding in and out of you slowly at first and working his way up, picking up a pace that had you both groaning and moaning.

“F-fuck, Y/N. I love hearing you scream my name.” His lips attacked your neck again and you threw your head back against the pillows, giving him all the space that he needed to play with your neck. And he took this as a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand around it, squeezing under your jaw around enough for your eyes to roll back in total pleasure as you instinctively wrapped your finger around his wrist, holding him in place. You didn’t expect him to be into chocking but you were definitely not against it.

“Harder, S-sir. Please.”

“You’re taking it so good, just like I expected it.” He growled, pulling away enough to look at the whimpering mess that you were right now, his hand never leaving your neck as he pounded even harder into you with every word. “Calling me ‘sir’ and everything, I didn’t even had to ask you to do that. You’re such a slutty responsive whore for me, aren’t you Y/N?”

The sudden dirty words coming out of your ex-boss’s mouth did nothing but to turn you on even more, if that was possible at this point. You weren’t able to form a proper sentence so you limited to nodding and moaning his name. He didn’t like that.

“I asked you a fucking question, sweetheart, answered it.”

“Y-yes, I am, S-sir.” You chocked, the knot on your stomach forming once more and by the way that his pace flickered you knew that he was close too. “I’m close, Aaron.”

“Then cum for me, baby.” He commanded, continuing his thrusts and you were already oversensitive from his earlier work so it didn’t took you long before you started clenching around him.

“Fuck, Aaron.”

“Say it louder, Y/N.”

“Aaron!” He bottom out inside of you again and you moaned loudly one last time as your body reached its limit, hitting your climax with every nerve in you tired body.

“That’s a good girl.” He said between moans, his dick twitching softly as he release himself inside of you with one last and hard thrust.

He let go of your throat but didn’t’ pull out immediately after that. His breathing was a little erratic, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a thin layer of sweat all over his body. He looked disturbingly hot.

Of course he did. He’s Aaron fucking Hotchner.

It was as if these last 3 years had never existed.

Neither of you said a word as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom of the room to grabbed a wet towel to clean you up, doing the same thing on him before putting back his boxers, you didn’t have the strength to grab your clothes so you just put the sheets of the bed on top of you, covering you nudity.

“Oh, sp now you’re shy?” He snorted, chuckling softly and you smiled.

“Shut up and come here.” You patted the bed and he didn’t hesitate on laying next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You felt safe, like there’s was nowhere else you rather be in that moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered after a moment breaking the silence, his face resting on your shoulder.

“For what?”

“For all of… that.”

“You’ve always have such a ways with words, Hotch.” You chuckled as you looked down at him. “Thank you for ordering my margarita in the first place.”

“It was a pleasure.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a playful way.

“How long are you staying here, Y/N?” He finally asked and you let out a tiny sigh at the question.

You knew you weren't here for a long vacation and neither was Aaron, you two have your lives outside this room , but being here now felt so good and peaceful. So… right. This, also, was probably a one-time thing, something that was destined to happen eventually, no matter how long it took.

But you didn’t want- no, you couldn’t face the fact that you may have to let him go again. Especially not after what just happened. I mean, how could you?

And little did you know that Aaron was feeling the exact same thing.

“Enough not to have to worry about it right now.” You answered with a shrug while your fingertips trace invisible circles on his back.

“Good. I can live with that, for now at least.” And then he broke the comfortable embrace by getting up and out of the bed, you furrowed you eyebrows and he extended on his hands towards you, “Come on, let’s take a shower so we can sleep properly.”

“Yes, sir.” You took his hand, getting up with his help and trying your best not to limp as you made your way to the bathroom, “By the way, where are you staying while you’re here?”

He turned around at the question, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing your lips before using a more serious tone to say, “In the room above this one.”

Of course he was. You thought while you watched as he began to prepare the bath for the both of you.

Funny how destiny works sometimes.

#cm #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x y/n #hotchner imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #sorry if this is a bit out of character #i try my best #thanks for reading

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unioncolours · 3 years

Text

Fic: CLEAR

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, this has barely a plot

Pairing: implied Shikajin

Lenght: 2,2k

Inojin notices Shikadai behaves oddly. Something is not right and Inojin is determined to find out what it is, and help him when needed.

Alternatively: This is a brainworm that has lived in my head since April 2020. You’re welcome.

Please read down below and keep reading! 🖤

CLEAR

They were sitting out in the meadow bordering to the Nara Forest, just talking about this and that, passing time, like they liked to do, just the two of them.

It was a beautiful day in Konoha and Inojin enjoyed this afternoon immensely. He finished the juice they had with them, swallowing the final drop of liquid, as some guests peeked out of the edge of the forest a bit away from them.

Two deer.

Inojin liked the deer. Not the same extent the Naras did, but he found them beautiful to look at. That was why he became so excited when he saw the brown animals sniffing the fresh spring air out in the open.

“Look!” Inojin whispered, looking at the deer. He didn’t dare pointing at them, in case his movement would spook them.

Shikadai looked up and stared. Just stared. He didn’t say anything, just let his gaze wander along the line of trees. Inojin looked at him, waiting for a response.

It didn’t come.

Shikadai’s wrinkle between his eyebrows let Inojin know he was confused.

“The deer,” Inojin said and pointed at them. “Over there. By the big tree.”

Shikadai stared some more before breaking out in a smile.

“Aaah,” he said. “Yes. They are brave when they come out here. Normally they hide inside.” He nudged Inojin gently. “They’ve gotten so used to you, since you come here so often as well.”

He laid down flat on his back, closing his eyes. Inojin looked at him, feeling a little but concerned by the weird reaction. Shikadai’s peaceful face was however enough to calm him down. Maybe he just had been a little bit tired. Inojin followed him down on the ground and let his eyes close as well.

The next time Inojin noticed Shikadai was behaving oddly was when they watched TV. There was a humour show going on, where the participants had signs with funny text written on them, and even the funniest jokes didn’t immediately warrant a laugh from Shikadai. The laugh came delayed, after Inojin had laughed and after the narrator read the signs out loud and Inojin found that odd.

And after that he found a lot of different moments that only served as proof to his theory. Shikadai didn’t tell hi to friends who walked the opposite direction towards before it was almost too late and both Inojin and Chocho noticed training didn’t go as well as before. This behaviour spanned on for a couple of weeks, before Inojin finally decided to confront him.

“Can you read what it says on that sign?”

They were out on a market square and Inojin had spotted a sign for a teashop a bit away from them, golden text against black metal. It seemed like the perfect text to test Shikadai.

“Which sign?” Shikadai sounded indifferent.

“The teashop sign,” Inojin said. He followed carefully how Shikadai’s eyes darted across all the signs along the streets. He didn’t seem to find the sign. “Black and gold,” Inojin helped even more.

“I don’t know,” Shikadai finally muttered. “I can’t see the sign you’re referring to.”

Inojin grabbed Shikadai’s arm and gently dragged him with him.

“Tell me when you see it,” he said, and they walked closer and closer to the sign. Inojin waited with anticipation for the moment when Shikadai would see the golden text.

“There,” Shikadai said when they were close to the sign. “Golden Leaf – Tea Shop.”

“Yes,” Inojin said. He took a deep breath before opening his mouth. “You know, I saw this text from where we were standing at first. It was sharp and clear from the very start.”

Shikadai was quiet for a while and Inojin gave him all the room to puzzle through the reality.

“It’s not normal to not see it sharply before at this length from it,” Inojin continued softly. “You don’t see things well far away, isn’t that right?”

Shikadai stared up at the sign, clearly irritated at it.

“I guess,” he finally muttered. He sounded angry. Defeated. He turned around to walk back to where they had walked from.

“It’s easily fixed,” Inojin said, trying to level down the situation. He followed Shikadai, who had his eyes steadily fixed on something invisible in front of him. “Hey. Talk to me.”

“This is just so troublesome,” Shikadai muttered.

“But easily fixed,” Inojin continued, on purposely sounding light-hearted. Shikadai shrugged. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Dunno,” Shikadai said.

“You seem like it,” Inojin said. “It’s fine. It is nothing weird to wear glasses. Sarada does it.”

“Sarada has worn them since she was like three years old,” Shikadai retorted, as if that was the only allowed age to have decreased eyesight if one was younger than fifty.

“And it doesn’t matter,” Inojin continued. “What matters is that you don’t seem to see things like deer in your own forest. That we have managed missions so far is a miracle. What if you get hurt because you didn’t see something approaching you, or someone in camo clothing? And what if your eyesight continues worsen? What then?”

Shikadai pressed his hands down his pockets, annoyed, but he knew Inojin was right. He didn’t see faces of people standing further away from him. Animals disappeared for him among the green and brown of forests, the colours blurring together. He couldn’t always read texts in the tv if he didn’t sit closer than the sofa.

He could work around his weakness, and it had worked thus far, but it only worked so far and so long. Soon he’d begin to suffer from not seeing. The worst part was the colours blurring together. Roots in the ground weren’t as visible anymore and he had tripped a few times.

“I’ll talk to my parents,” Shikadai finally said.

“Good,” Inojin said.

Shikadai stared out of the window while eating dinner with his parents. He saw a big lump of green from the trees, individual leaves not existing for him, only a big green cloud with blurred edges. He stared at the blurry edge, feeling angry, because why wouldn’t his eyes make them sharp again like they once had been?

“Dad,” he finally said, accepting defeat. “I don’t think I see that well anymore.”

Both Shikamaru and Temari looked up.

“What do you mean?” Temari asked.

“I can’t… see things far away,” Shikadai said. “Like the leaves outside.” Both his parents looked out of the window at the leaves in question. “They’re all blurry. I can’t see deer in our forest. I can’t read signs if they’re not close to me.”

For some reason he had expected them to be disappointed. Disappointed in him and his body for not following the perfect shinobi mould. Instead, they offered empathic glances.

“How long have you noticed this going on?” Shikamaru asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Shikadai said. “It’s not like you notice when it happens. Probably for months. All of a sudden it hits you that you can’t see. And I’ve tried to work around it, tried to ignore it and make up alternative ways of working where sharp eyesight isn’t necessary so no one would know. I thought I could defeat it on my own, you know. But I don’t think I can anymore.”

To his surprise, Shikamaru just shook his head fondly and chuckled.

“Awfully stubborn as usual,” he said. “You should have told us as soon as you noticed something was up. It’s okay, Shikadai. Let’s appoint a time for you to an eye doctor and get it checked.”

Shikadai sighed, not knowing how to feel. Partly relieved that he would get to see well again, but also annoyed at having failed making this on his own.

He was a stubborn boy, but one that finally accepted his little weakness.

“I want to come with you to choose your glasses!” Inojin pouted in the phone when Shikadai called him after the visit to the optician.

“No, I want to choose myself without your input,” Shikadai replied, voice filled with warmth, as he sipped a bit of the milkshake he had bought himself as a reward after the weird experience of having someone shining bright lights in his eyes and having him look at letters, red and green, dots and stripes through prisms and glasses. “I’ll go back to choose frames soon after my milkshake.”

“Choose something colourful!”

“Never,” Shikadai smiled to his phone, sipping some more. “You have to wait until your eyes suck as well.”

“What if mine never sucks?” Inojin teased.

“Hah ha,” Shikadai said dryly. “My milkshake is empty now. I’ll go back and choose some frames for me. They’ll come in a couple of weeks, whichever I choose.”

“You’re going to be so cute,” Inojin said and Shikadai blushed a bit.

“Bye,” he said and his voice sounded like a sunny smile.

The couple of weeks rushed by. Shikadai lived in the world he was used to and that had become his normal, with leaves not visible and faces he couldn’t recognise. It was what he was used to, and he was a bit nervous as he walked into the opticians’ shop to fetch his glasses. Now something was going to change, he wasn’t going to have to squint all the time or accept some information was inaccessible for him.

And something was going to change about his appearance as well. He didn’t care about that part too much and was more concerned about other hassle that came with glasses.

His first thought when he got the glasses on was disappointment when he became hyper-focused on the black frames around his eyes. So, I am going to look at this all the time, huh? He even expressed his concerns and the optician promised him he’d get used to it and he’d forget they’re there. He’d even forget to feel them on his nose and around his ears. She warned him he could be dizzy or feel nauseous, but he just had to get used to see again without straining his eyes. Seemed fair.

Everything seemed okay and Shikadai walked out of the store, only to stop and just stare.

Everything was so clear. Edges were so sharp he wasn’t even able to comprehend this was normal and this was what the world looked like with a clear eyesight, something he now realised he hadn’t had for months. The depth of his surrounding felt different as well and he walked as in a daze, just staring around him through clear glass with the right adjustments and strength.

He had learned how to recognise Inojin even with the weakened sight of him – it was hard to miss the whirlwind with blond hair and most often purple clothes, but now he could look at Inojin’s features without standing close to him.

Shikadai could see Inojin’s face and despite him feeling like walking on clouds thanks to his depth perception feeling off when he just had everything corrected, he walked faster up to him. His own face cracked up in a smile.

“Hi, handsome,” Inojin said when he was closer. “Oh, they look really good!”

Shikadai put his hand instinctively up and touched the temple pieces. It still felt very new and odd.

“Hehe, thanks,” he said. “Do I look smarter now?”

“You look gorgeous as always,” Inojin said. “Milkshakes?”

“Yeah,” Shikadai said, still feeling the glasses on the side of his face.

He spent the day marvelling at the world around him. Feeling shocked at the brightness, the everything he hadn’t known he was missing out on. The milkshake tasted extra good, despite his head feeling weird from the new perception of his surroundings. It helped also that Inojin smiled to him in that terribly sweet way all the time.

Two deer were peacefully munching on the grass and Shikadai was sitting on the other side of the river. He observed them while aimlessly touching his face, feeling what would become his new normal and every day. He could see them sharply, every thine on their antlers clear as they’ve never been before-

His parents had taken a look at him and nodded affirmatively when he had come home with the added aid to his face, but they had not drawn any attention to it. Shikadai was grateful for it. This was nothing spectacular after all, just a new look on him and nothing more. When he had gotten used to the glasses, and he took them off before bed or a shower, he couldn’t understand he had once been satisfied with blur around him.

“How many deer do you see?” Inojin asked.

“Three,” Shikadai snorted back at him.

“Good,” Inojin said. “Was just gonna check if you’re eyes work.”

“I hate you,” Shikadai jokingly said and affectionally pushed Inojin.

“Have I told you how good you look in those?” Inojin asked, through a little laugh.

“I don’t need to look good; I need to see!” Shikadai replied, knowing well that Inojin had been staring at him nonstop since a few weeks back when he received his spectacles the first time.

“Sure thing you do, sure thing,” Inojin said and leaned against Shikadai, lacing their fingers together as the deer peacefully kept munching on.

The End

#shikajin #majsasaurus #this is just random fluff i have thought about haha #maybe one day on ao3 #shikadai x inojin #naras in glasses are such a cute thought #especially shikadai

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

Not Necessarily a Virtue

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Practical Magic AU

There hadn’t been a plan when Obi picked up the phone.

All it had taken was one rogue text-- another case assigned to his social worker, one that was enough of an emergency that it his behavioral issues seem tame in comparison. Her chair rattles when she stans, its plastic back hitting the filing cabinets with a metallic tang, but her hands tremble more.

“This will be just a minute,” she says, smile plastered tight to her face. And then she leaves him there alone, his file open on her desk, flaws left out for the world to see.

It doesn’t bothered him. There’s no point, not when he already knows: he’s trouble with a capital-T, each failed family drawing him closer and closer to being unplaceable. Some people have a face only a mother could love, but Obi-- Obi has that for his personality. Though considering how each of his six almost-moms signed him away with a sigh of relief, walking out the plate glass doors without even a glance back, maybe he has the sort of personality that makes people reconsider whether they could be a mother.

So here he is again, freshly abandoned, back in the sterile halls of social services for the seventh time without a place to call home. He’s not even twelve.

Not that these people aren’t trying to change that-- he’s not some cat left at the shelter, free to a good home. Unless Kerry or Janine or the girl at the desk he didn’t get to read the name tag of wanted to sleep on their couch, they have to find someone to take him for the night. And he knows from experience, there’s always a family that believes they can change him. A young couple who thought all problem children needed was just a little extra love. By the time Kerry came back, there’d be good news waiting, a miracle crafted by three people who didn’t want to miss the Masked Singer finale. They’d pack him into the back of a car and ship him off to a new place to fail. Because no matter how many homes they tried to make for him, it’d never change how he felt.

Obi had tried, at first. He was just a little kid, wanting to be loved, but every home he went to itched like hives in his head, a constant buzz that set his teeth on edge and made him do anything, try anything to leave. He belonged somewhere else, somewhere not here, and he knew it like he knew Kerry’s other case had overdosed on a bottle of sleeping pills in his foster mother’s cabinet-- with an inexplicable certainty.

He waits thirty seconds after she leaves before he slides off the the plastic seat she’d put him in. They love these things, oddly shaped and in primary colors that make the little kids giddy, but Obi hates them. He’s undersized, and putting him in these kiddie rooms always makes people treat him like he’s eight instead of eleven, asking him about Blue’s Clues.

But that’s not why he gets up, not entirely. There’s a buzzing in the back of his brain, a knowing, and it makes him stand, his hand straying to the glass door. He can’t see anything outside, at least not anything besides more kiddie chairs and offices, but he steps out nonetheless. He steps out and, unerringly, turns to face the girl waiting for him down the hall.

“It’s you.” Her tawny hair stresses the elastic she’s trapped it in, too thick. It’s not one of those hair ones either, but one of those thick rubber bands they use on the produce in grocery store. It hurts; he knows because it’s common sense, but also because he just...Knows. Their eyes meet, and even though he doesn’t her name, they’ve known each other forever.

His mouth is dry when he asks, “Do you know me?”

“I saw you in a dream.” She takes a step toward him, her sneakers scuffed and worn, just like his. “You’re Obi. I’m Torou.”

He doesn’t know this girl. There’s a hundred ways she could get his name; one of them is sitting on a desk behind him right now. But when she looks up at him with eyes he’s only ever seen in the mirror, he holds out his hand. “Come here.”

His heart pounds with each mincing squeak of her sneakers on the tile. She’s taking too long and she’s coming too fast; each terrible second convinces him he’s making a mistake at the same time he’s doing what he was always meant to do. By the time she slips her hand into his, he’s trembling, but it doesn’t matter because they both are and this--

This is right. And he knows exactly what to do.

It’s holding her hand that he picks up the phone. He fucks it up the first time-- he gets that gross digital buzz before he notices the sticker beneath the speaker, informing him 9 dials out-- but the second one his fingers guide him, releasing the number he has no reason to know. A number he has no reason to believe will work, that could have just come from the weird recesses of his mind but--

But he’s not surprised when a man picks up. “Who is this? Do you know what time--?”

“We’re here,” Obi says, and it shouldn’t be enough, but it is. “Come pick us up.”

A specter arrives on the front walk at noon.

Obi knows by the hush in the office. Or really the weight of it-- it’s been quiet like this since last night, since he and Torou sat down on the big bean bag couch in the waiting room, and Obi announced they wouldn’t be letting go. His case worker had crouched in front of them, that sweet smile plastered to her lips, and told him that they’d only have to be separated for a night. But he’d known-- the way he always did-- that every word was a lie. His fingers tightened in her grip, narrowing his eyes until the woman shivered, and that was that.

Kerry stayed with them, of course; she’d slept in her office, under a blanket it’s clear she’s never used and had only just discovered wasn’t comfortable no matter how many Sesame Street characters were on it. They’d been tucked under another by a younger girl with trembling hands, her eyes darting between them as she smoothed out its edges. He’d heard them through the walls this morning while the rest of the office filtered in-- government buildings like this were always cutting corners, leaving things like this paper thin, stuff that would go up like tissue in a fire.

Do you think they’re twins? one asked. Trembling hands, he guesses, since her voice does as well, like a chihuahua in a sweater. I’ve heard about this happening with twins. They look and just know.

Can’t be, we have their birth certificates, says another. Kerry, probably; she might be a liar, but she’s one of the only people in this place that has her head screwed on right, too. Two different sets of parents.

And the man they called last night? This one is stern; their manager maybe. He’s not really sure how this all works; he’s not even twelve, and he can only just know so much. Who is he?

There’s a heavy pause. I...I don’t know.

So when he arrives, dressed like an undertaker and holding an umbrella beneath the bright New Mexico sky, the whole place goes quiet. When he walks it’s stiff, like it took a hundred volts to get him up off the table and he’s only just gotten used to the idea. Obi casts a look down at Torou, at where her hand is white knuckled in his, and thinks about how he knows things, and wonders just what she might be able to do.

The man enters, umbrella folding in a single neat motion, before he says. “I am Lata Forenzo. I believe you have my...niblings.”

Niblings, Obi learns, is like siblings, only sideways.

“It was a simplification,” Lata says, his voice a deep, hesitant gravel. He casts a speculative look at the taxi driver, adjusting the gloves on his hands. “Niece and nephew is an unwieldy phrase, and time, after all, is of the essence.”

“Is it?” Torou’s eyes are wide, and for the first time since last night, her hand leaves his, gripping on to the cloth at Lata’s knee. “Is there something after us? Those bugs, they’re not--”

“No.” Obi’s known his uncle for barely more than a half hour, but he knows he isn’t a tactile person. Even still, Lata looks down at Torou, his not-gold eyes somehow softer, and puts two fingers over the bones at the back of her hand. “But it is time to bring you home.”

Home is an island. It takes the whole night to fly in, and when they land the sun is just barely scratching the sky. Even still, there’s no stopping; Lata bundles them straight into a cab, shushing them before they can make much more than a peep.

“We’ll be home soon,” he says, and the next time he wakes them, salt stings Obi’s nose, and he’s being carried over a threshold.

“Are we here?” he slurs. The house is weird-- angular, really, with a hall so narrow he could kick out a leg and stop them up like a cork. He nearly does, just to be cussed, but he catches Torou still wrapped up in her blanket, lolling on the couch, and says instead, “Can you let me down?”

Lata hesitates, fingers stiff where they wrap around his knees and shoulders, but he nods.

Obi’s feet-- just wearing socks now, somehow-- press on the floor, and he knows: he’s home.

“Oh,” he breathes, hands flying out to steady himself. “Oh.”

When he looks up, Torou’s eyes meet his, round and wide. “I felt that.”

Her own feet swing down-- bare-- and the moment she touches the wide old planks--

“Oh.” Lata braces himself against the wall, the sound bitter on his lips. “So it’s true. There will always be two.”

They aren’t his words, Obi knows, but they’re important. They’ve got that feel, the same as when Torou said she dreamed of him. The sort that are going to be life-changing, one way or another.

But Obi’s had enough of that today. Enough of it for a lifetime. He glances over at Torou, and she nods. “Can we go outside?”

Lata blinks, eyes pulling from the wallpaper to fix on him. After a long moment, he says, “You know where the door is.”

Obi does, somehow, and when he opens it--

It’s paradise.

Home has rules too, loads of them. It’s quiet time from nine to eight, though Lata doesn’t much care if they’re sleeping, so long as they’re in bed. Teeth have to be brushed twice a day-- he’d glowered when Obi said he had good teeth and only needed the once, standing over him for a week morning and night to see the rule stuck. There’s only one dessert after dinner; Obi balked at that one, until he’d learned that a limit on quantity wasn’t the same thing as size. He and Torou find three old sundae dishes in the cabinet and pile them high with ice cream and every topping they can find, and when they slap Lata’s down in front of him, cheeks bulging with their own towers of sweets, all he’d does is give them that small, reluctant twitch of a smile and dig in.

They have to make their beds and pick up after themselves-- this house has treated us well, Lata tells them, it’s only right we take care of it in return-- and they have to tell him if they plan to play in the yard; but in return their sheets are always clean, and dinner’s promptly at six. When they come back in, sweaty and exhausted from the summer heat, there’s always a bowl of fruit waiting for them and cold drinks.

He’d known, in the way he always does, that this couldn’t last. So when summer’s heat began to cool, he’s not surprised to see Lata waiting on for them on the veranda, mouth pulled into an even grimmer line.

“It’s time,” he says, “for a Family Meeting.”

“School,” Lata says with the sort of relish and derision only a professor like him can summon up, “is starting. Which means there are new rules.”

Fingers brush at Obi’s, and when he reaches out, Torou’s fingers knit in his. He knows what rules these will be-- his parents had them to, the only ones they’d ever made. His mother had gotten down on her knees the night before kindergarten, nails digging into his shoulders, and used a voice so dark, so unlike her, he’d dreamed of button eyes staring into his for a week. His father had tossed out their Coraline DVD after that.

“Forenzos,” Lata starts, already sounding weary, “look after each other. So you’ll walk together, both ways, and if one of you gets into trouble--” he fixes them both with a stern look-- “I expect both of you to run.”

Obi stares. “What?”

“You’ll come back right after school, unless we have previously discussed plans,” Lata continues. “You’re far too young for...cellular phones, so I expect that if you make plans with friends, you will discuss them with me the night previous, or you will come home first and ask permission. Not,” he murmurs, just barely audible, “that I expect you’ll have much trouble with that.”

“Is that...” Obi’s jaw works. “Is that all?”

“I expect you to keep up your grades.” Lata’s brow furrows, taking them in, as if he’d never once questioned whether or not they would be stellar students. As if most people don’t look at the both of them and see future high school flunk outs. “If they are slipping, I’m afraid I’ll have to limit your free time until we are able to bring them back to an acceptable level. Homework is to be done at the table, and once you are done, your time is yours until dinner.”

Torou’s hand squeezes his. “We?”

Lata blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You said ‘we.’“ She clear her throat, eyelashes fluttering with nerves. “If our grades are bad, you said we would, uh, fix them.”

“Of course.” His mouth pulls at the corners, annoyed. “How could I possibly ask you to rectify such a thing on your own? You’re already doing the best you can, if you still struggle, then it’s clearly something we both-- oh my,” he murmurs mildly, “she’s leaking.”

“Sorry,” she sobs, pink burning on her cheeks, the way it never did on his. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no.” Lata flails out, yanking a tissue from the box, shoving it into her hand. “I just...hope that you find this all fair. I was always quite good at school, but my sisters--” he glances at them, wary-- “varied. I hope I can only...encourage you to your best.”

“But what about...” Obi snaps his teeth around the words. If he doesn’t ask, then it won’t become a rule, and his uncle can’t be disappointed when he breaks it.

The pictures on the wall prove that they’re family, that Lata truly is his mom’s brother, even if they don’t share much more than a hair color. But Obi’s never seen it, the way he does in pictures of Torou’s mom, where there’s a flick of the hand or a cock of a hip that says they spent their childhood together, inextricably intertwined forever in ways they would never understand.

But Lata raises a brow now, and he sees it, that small thread that ties him to his mom, that says brother. “About...?”

“The other stuff,” Torou blurts out, coughing down a sniff. “He wants to know what we...”

Her words peter out too, like she can’t figure out what to do with them. He can’t stop knowing, and she can’t stop dreaming, and the thought of having to pretend they can is...tiring this time, in a way it never was in the system.

His mouth wraps around the words with a curious sort of wonder. “Other stuff?”

“You know,” she mutters, so small. “The weird stuff.”

Lata jolts in his chair, spine as straight as a poker. His hands press flat against his knees, and when he looks at them, the gray in his eyes in thunderous.

“This is the most important rule,” he tells them, voice oddly resonant, “you must follow it. Promise me.”

Obi’s heart sinks into his stomach, but he nods, fingers squeezing Torou’s tighter.

Lata’s hand presses heavy on his shoulder, leather flexing over cotton. “Don’t ever hide yourselves. Not for anything. Not for anyone.” Obi dares to look up, and Lata’s gaze is waiting to catch him. “Being...normal is not necessarily a virtue. There is no shame in being who you are, none at all.”

Or what you are, he doesn’t say, but his eyes do, loud and clear. He doesn’t say what that is either, but--

Obi knows. Just like he always does.

And if he didn’t, well-- he would have found out soon enough.

It’s a small island; small enough that K-12 are all squeezed into one school, though Lata tells them that by the time they go to senior high, they might have built another. It’s still not small enough for Torou and him to be in the same class, so he drops her off at the door with promises to find her at lunch and moseys down to his own. It puts him a little behind schedule, the school bell ringing on his heels, and when he steps in--

The room goes silent. Twenty pairs of eyes stare at him, round and wide, not a single person daring to do much more than breathe.

“Forenzo,” the teacher says, faint. “You must be...the Forenzo boy.”

“Yeah.” He grips at his shoulder. “Obi.”

“You can take your seat...at the back,” she says, before hurrying to the board, eager to put her back to him.

“I thought my mom said all the Forenzos died,” a boy whispers as he passes. “Except the old man, of course.”

“No, they just left,” says the one next to them. “Chased out. Because they’re, you know...”

Obi does; he always had, even before he had a word for it.

“I don’t think a boy can be a witch,” a girl says, thoughtless and thoughtful at the same time. “They’re wizards, or something.”

“Warlocks,” scoffs another. “Don’t you know anything? And they do blood magic with little girls--”

Obi grits his teeth, eyes forward. There’s two empty chairs in the back, one in the corner by the window, and the other next to it, and he steers toward that one-- window seats always get him in trouble--

And the boy next to it scoots away, fear bright in his eyes. Obi looks back at the teacher, but she’s writing her name on the board real slow, like she’s hoping this might solve itself.

Fine, he can take a hint. He takes the window, sliding in behind the desk. The girl in front of him scoots forward too, making sure her chair doesn’t touch his desktop, and he sighs. At least they’re all getting this out of the way first.

A bag drops, right next to his seat.

“Ms Kino!” There’s a girl there, smaller than everyone else, though her voice makes her twice as tall. In the morning sun, her hair burns bright like the horizon. “Can I change my seat?”

“Shirayuki?” The teacher blinks back at them, and Obi could swear she breaks into a cold sweat. “Shirayuki, I’m not sure that’s--”

“I can’t see the board from over there,” she says, every syllable digging in its heels. “There’s glare. Because I’m so small.”

Ms Kino squints back at her, and really-- there’s no denying how small she is, at least a head below Obi and he’s nothing to write home about either. “If you’re sure...”

“Great.” She drops into her seat with a thump as loud as thunder, setting out her notebook and pencil with the sort of purposeful efficiency that says there’s no doubt she’s here to stay.

Obi slips his out of his backpack too, so quiet so the other kids will stop looking at him like he’s going to set the place on fire, but he hears, “You’re new, right?”

He looks down, and there’s the girl, smiling across the aisle. “Yeah. I’m--”

“Obi, I heard.” She leans toward him. “I’m--”

“Shirayuki.” His mouth twitches. “I also heard.”

Her smile stretches towards a grin. “You know, Ms Kino likes group projects.”

He blinks. “Does she?”

She nods. “Would you like a partner?”

“She hasn’t assigned one yet,” he says, a little lost.

“She will,” this Shirayuki says, confident. The way he is, when he knows.

He nods, slow. “All right, so for the next one.”

“To start.” She fixes him with a look he can’t get out from under. “Are you eating lunch with someone?”

“Ah, yeah.” He feels guilty about it now, for some reason. “My um. Cousin.”

She brightens. “Great. I’ll show you guys the best place to sit.”

He’s been adopted, he realizes, like the way the cats around the house aren’t. And this girl means to keep him.

For once in his very short life, Obi doesn’t mind knowing. Just like he always does.

#obiyukibingo21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #practical magic au #ans #there is so much to be written for this fic and i desperately want to write all of it #like honestly consider this a teaser for a fic i COULD write #one that would involve shirayuki obi and torou being childhood friends #and obi casting a spell of forgetting #and later shirayuki finding obi and torou again #after they have possibly murdered the resurrected then killed again torou's ex #and obi trying to hide that secret at the same time he's trying to keep shirayuki from remembering #while also desperately wanting her to remember because sure this Zen guy seems rich and nice but ALSO MAYBE YOU COULD LOVE ME???#like the notes i have for this potential multichap are CRAZY i wish to UNLEASH them #also LATA/GARRACK #and also Lata ruminating on love and loss and the complicatedness of inherited trauma #but uhhhhh with magic you know how it be

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twinkleallnight · 4 years

Text

A Twisted Tale

Chapter 2

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Word count: 2334

Characters: Liam, Drake, Riley, Olivia.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: mention of death.

A/N: I m We are participating in @wackydrabbles prompt: "That makes my {body part} tingle." that appears in bold.

Catch up here

An AU of The Royal Romance paving it's way through mixed emotions of wants, needs and desires, of revenge and regrets, of trust, faith and hope.

A joint venture brought to you with love by @twinkleallnight and @annekebbphotography

Liam’s POV

Riley looks at me with concern and all I can do is shake my head, I didn’t want to get into it right now. All I wanted to do was talk to Olivia and she didn’t even give me a chance to say anything, just assumed she knew what I was doing.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask as we walk towards the jet.

Riley beams at me, I have never seen blue eyes sparkle like that. “More than ready. I am so excited.” She giggles as she walks towards the steps. I let her go first and damn, she is making it hard for me. She’s wearing a tight blue jean with a pink flowing shirt, but her ass is on display as she climbs the steps of the jet. I know it’s wrong, I am in love with someone else, but damn she’s beautiful and can I mention that she is making my pants pretty uncomfortable.

I shake my head to get the thoughts out of my mind, I need to focus. All I need is to get back to Cordonia and see Olivia. Then all of this will be over and I will be back to normal. Riley will only be working for me and probably become my friend.

The flight back to Cordonia is spent with me explaining to Riley how things work in Cordonia. I tell her about the ins and outs of the royal council and how to address each of the court members. She impressed me with knowing most of the things I was teaching her. I believe that she will do well in the Palace. She will obviously be my right hand, and she will have to attend functions and meetings with me, until I finally find my Queen. No wait, scratch that. Until I get married to my Queen. I just need her to fall in love with me.

The pilot lets us know that we will be landing. “Look out of the window.” I motion to the window next to Riley and I can’t help admire the happiness and excitement on her face.

“Wow, It’s really something else.” She says, a little too excited.

*****************

After getting checked by security and getting the all clear, Riley and I make our way to the palace. Seeing the excitement in Riley’s eyes makes me see the place and the country in a different light. I have been here all my life and love my country, but I think I might have taken it for granted.

“Is this where I will be staying?” She points to the palace and I can’t help but smile.

“Yes, you will have your own room. Normally we will put you in the guest rooms, but I want you close to my wing. You will not be alone. My best friend, Drake Walker also stays in the wing you will be staying in.” I nod to Bastien as he pulls up in front of the palace.

“I can’t wait to start work. It might be weird, but I want to learn as much as possible.”

Bastien opens my door before I could say anything else. As I get out I see Olivia coming down the front step of the Palace. This is even more bad timing.

Olivia crosses the distance between us in a few swift steps. She curtsies in front of me dramatically, "Welcome back home, your majesty." I can feel the bite in her tone.

"It's good to be back Duchess." I smirk, as I take her hand and kiss the back of it. My eyes never leave hers. That is until she breaks my gaze and looks over my shoulder. I turn around to see that Riley has just stepped out of the car.

"Since when did you start bringing your dinner home?" I don't know if it's her regular snarky comment or is she jealous.

"Since it's too good to leave behind!" I say with a grin on my face. Lets see how far this can go.

She sneers at me and almost looks like she is going to attack me when Bastien interferes. "Can we take this inside, Duchess."

Olivia glares at Bastien. She turns around and storms back inside without saying anything.

I turn towards Riley. She is a bit flabbergasted at what just happened. "That's Duchess Olivia Nevrakis of Lythikos for you." I offer her my arm. "Shall I show you to your room." She links her arm with mine and I can't help but smile at the jolt of electricity I feel when she touches me. Her cheeks turn a soft pink when her hand touches my arm.

As I am walking her in, I pass through the corridors and see Olivia sneaking into my study. I am a little nervous now thinking of what lies ahead. Upsetting the woman I love is not my style.

I try to be quick with Riley hoping she doesn't catch the hints of my nervousness.

"Please make yourself at home. Bastien here can help you if you need anything. I have some pending office work to complete. We can start with your job profile tomorrow."

Having said that, I quickly turn on my heels and stride down to my study. I enter and see Olivia standing with a wine glass. Her devilish smile welcomes me in. "Dinner was not to your taste? You left the party so soon?"

"I have my dinner preparing for me. I plan to make it breakfast and lunch as well. Maybe a reading snack in the library could work for me." I know I am digging my own grave. But I love bickering with her.

"Cut it out Liam." She snarls at me. "We both know your appetite well."

"Then don't make assumptions, when you do not know the whole story." I walk over to my desk and take a seat. "Now, we have matters to discuss. Please take a seat" I motion to the seat in front of my desk.

With a huff and a puff, Olivia gives in and sits in the chair across my table. I can still feel her restlessness. When she cannot contain it anymore she finally asks. "Who is she?"

I smirk as I lean back into my chair resting my hands behind my back. "She is my new personal assistant. We will be working closely together." I throw it out there. I need a sign that this is affecting her.

"Okay. Just a personal assistant." She reverberates. She fans it out, sipping her wine. As the warm liquid passes down her throat she relaxes. "What did you want to discuss?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing. Also I would like you to take Riley shopping. She would need appropriate clothes to wear to the office."

Not that I mind the clothes she's wearing, but selfishly I don't want the other men to look at her like that.

"If you are forgetting, I am a Duchess. Not staff at your palace. Why would I spend my precious time on a girl you randomly picked up from the streets of America. I give a damn at how she dresses. That's her problem if she doesn't have the basic training or dressing sense."

She then adds. "Ask Drake to do that. He knows better how to deal with Street hawkers, from where he comes."

"She is not just some random girl. I am asking you, because I want you to give her a chance. She's best qualified for this job. If you don't want to do it, I will do it myself. I don't mind spending time with her."

"For god's sake Liam! What's wrong with you? You are a king, not a teenage boy following a girl, holding her bags. You won't go shopping with her." She orders with authority. She loves me. She won't say it but she does. She tries to show she owns me. That makes my heart tingle. How can I resist her? I don't want to. I want to hold her tight at this moment and tell her how much I love her and I will do as she demands. But I resist the urge and continue defending my case.

"It is because I am the king that I can do this. I asked you and you said no, so now I will take her. Isn't that what you wanted. To have someone else take her?" I raise my brow at Olivia. I will get her to love me or at least admit that she loves me.

" I want someone else to take her because I want you to be with me at Lythikos. I have some things to discuss for the duchy."

It is not easy to bend her. She has her ways. She again found a reason to ignore my advances.

" Okay. I will come with you." I get up and move across the table. I take her hand in my hand. Her skin is soft against my touch. " If you promise that we will have dinner after work."

Her green eyes pierce at me.

"Fine." She says and slips out her hand to stand straight. "See you in an hour. You can accompany me on the drive to Lythikos."

She walks down to the door and turns before leaving. " I will ask Drake to help your damsel in distress"

"NO..." I stop and take a deep breath. "Fine, ask Drake to go with her."

***********

Olivia's POV

I walk out of Liam's study with a staid mind. This was not how I had expected things to progress. I have already started hating this American girl. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and start walking to the stables in search of Drake. He spots me first.

"Hey red hood!" He calls out from the booth where he is tending a horse.

"Hi Wolfie." I walk over to him.

"What's up?"

"Job for you." I wait to gain his full attention.

" At your service madam. Name it." He washes his hands and carelessly rubs them over his apron. He discards the apron to show off his chiselled chest. He has a habit of being ruthless about how his supermodel body has an effect on anyone around him. He pulls in a white cotton shirt but doesn't bother buttoning it up, leaving his rippled abdomen open for view. Had he not been a commoner, I would have let my fingers roam over his rugged body. I'm lost in drooling over his killer looks when, as if he has read my mind, he speaks.

"You were 25 inches up."

I turn pink on that comment and take my eyes off from his abs, 25inches up, to his brown eyes. I clear my throat.

"Liam has got some American girl with him. Says she is going to be his personal assistant and want you to take her shopping for her formal wear."

"And why would he send the message through none other than the Duchess?"

"Because I suggested it. He wanted me to do that, but I have some work at the duchy, and I am taking Liam along. That leaves only you available."

" So, you are trying to whisk away the king from the girl."

"No, I am not." I say firmly.

Drake ignores my comment and continues," But if she is going to be his personal assistant, you may have to up your game."

"There is no game being played here. Just do the damn shopping with her." My voice raises in frustration.

"Okay, okay. Will do it."

" Bastein will take you to her. See ya later." Before he can throw more questions, I spin and walk away.

After an hour, I am travelling alone in my car. Liam excused himself for some security check reasons, saying he will be there in another hour. I know he is taking his time luring his new found fascination in that girl. I feel my blood boiling at the thought of them together. I make a few necessary calls and wait for the road to end.

Seething in the same anger I stomp through the Chateau to my room. When I am inside I find aunt Lucretia waiting there for me.

She welcomes me with her crooked smile. "So how is my favourite niece doing?"

"Your only niece." I throw my purse callously on the bed and sprawl on it. I am staring at the ceiling trying to assess the situation.

She sits at the edge of the bed and moves her fingers lovingly through my loose hair.

"What is troubling you my darling?"

"I think I stretched it a bit too long."

"Stretched what?"

"Ignoring Liam's feelings. Now he seems to have got some seductress from his UN conference and is following her like a puppy all around."

"Oh dear, these girls come and go in the lives of nobles. Let him loiter around. He is a king and when it comes to choosing a queen, he will not look for some common girl. He will only have his eyes for you."

"I don't want to take this lightly." I prop up on the bed. "He is coming to Lythikos. He insisted on a dinner date with me. I am going for it."

"I think you are overreacting."

" Aunt Lucretia, I had that guy entwined around my little finger all these years. And today he got the guts to get some commoner and throw her into my face? I am no longer leaving it for chance. I am going to make him bend on his knees, and when he does that, I am going to gladly accept it."

I get back on my toes and proudly announce. "Once I become the queen of Cordonia, I will take the reins in my hands. The Nevrakis blood will rule Cordonia. The dream my parents had, will come true. And so will my revenge for their death!"

Tags: @ao719 @anjanettexcordonia @bascmve01 @bebepac @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @cordonia-gothqueen @drakewalker04 @eadanga @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @krsnlove @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @idontknowwhysblog @indiacater @jessiembruno @jovialyouthmusic @jaxsmutsuo @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @khoicesbyk @shewillreadyou @lisha1valecha @lovablegranny @mrswalkers-blog @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @no-one-u-know @ntoraplayschoices @princessleac1 @ritachacha @secretaryunpaid @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty @shanzay44 @texaskitten30 @txemrn @queenrileyrose @briefdreamlanddream @sfb123 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @aestheticartsx @yourmajesty09 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @drakewalkerfantasy @els31 @rainbowsinthestorm @darley1101 @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @rafasgirl23415 @anotherbeingsworld @callmeellabella @msjr0119 @walker7519 @ofpixelsandscribbles @cocomaxley @lodberg @jared2612 @gnatbrain @cmestrella @queenjilian @iaminlovewithtrr @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

#pixelberry #playchoices #the royal romance #trr fandom #trr #twinkleallnight #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #king liam

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